மலர்ந்தும் மலராதவை # 33
மனிதனுக்காக மதமா....மததுக்காக மனிதனா..........
‘Would you like to compose music for a Kannada movie that I am making?’ asked B.R. Krishnamoorthi to a tall, dapper youngster whom he overhead speaking in Kannada. The year was 1954 and the venue was ‘Sarada Vilas’, a small Udupi restaurant in Matunga, Bombay. BRK had introduced himself to the young man and was so impressed with him that when he came know that he was a musician, gave him the said offer spontaneously.
The youngster was none other than Vijayabhaskar, who had been working in Bombay with several stalwart Hindi composers such as Madanmohan, Noushad and Shankar-Jaikishen. VB was excited to go back to his hometown Bangalore along with BRK, and engaging an orchestra called ‘Jaya Maruthi’, composed the songs and completed the recording in Mysore. The movie ‘Sri Rama Puja’ (1955) was not a commercial success, but VB’s inventive compositions brought a refreshing whiff of originality in the portals of Kannada Cinema. There was no looking back and VB albums in Kannada such as Rani Honamma, Santa Tukaram, Naandi fetched him raving laurels in those early years.
VB was born in 1924 in Bangalore. His grandfather, Arumuga Mudaliar, hailed from Serkaadu, a village near Vellore. Both his grandfather and father V.A. Krishnamoorthi were engineers. VB grew up in Malleswaram, in a rich musical environment. He listened attentively when his sisters were being taught Carnatic music. The temples surrounding the area resonated with devotional music all day long. He learned Hindustani music from a master called Bhave. Impressed by the western music that was being played in the hotels at the Cantonment, VB undertook formal lessons in Western Music for five years from Leny Hunt, an English musician. Later, he discontinued the engineering course he was pursuing and went to Bombay. His astute knowledge of notations and skills on the piano fetched him the above mentioned opportunities to work for the great composers of the time.
Continuing his success trail, VB composed music for Puttana Kanagal’s first movie ‘Belli Moda’ (1967) and this marked the beginning of a long and fruitful association with the ace director. Along with GKV and Rajan-Nagendra, VB was in the forefront of Kannada film music all through the 60s, 70s and even the 80s. His magnificent compositions in movies such as Mannina Maga, Uyyale, Mallamana Paavada, Yaava Janmada Maitri, Sankalpa, Gejje Pooje, Sharapanjara, Naagarahaavu, Kesarina Kamala (VB introduced Vani Jairam in Kannada cinema in this album), Upasane, Shubhamangala, Besuge and many more remain hugely popular to this day. His score for the 1986 musical Malayamarutha is spoken of with awe, even in erudite music circles. Bringing out the best in the vocals of Yesudas, SPB, S. Janaki and his favourite Vani, VB crafted each song in the album with scintillating finesse.
The astute Adoor Gopalakrishnan picked VB to compose the background score for his iconic Mathilukal, which had no songs. VB went on to work with the famed filmmaker for Vidheyan and Kathapurushan. The Karnataka Government recognized the talents of VB by conferring upon him the Best Music Award for a record 6 years and honoured him with the coveted Dr. Rajkumar Award in 2000.
VB passed away in March 2002; his demise going largely unnoticed in Tamil Nadu. His contribution to Tamil Film Music has gone largely unrecognised and unappreciated. It is a crying disgrace that the TN Government did not find it fit to honour him in any way while he was amidst us, or his memory after his demise. A small consolation is that he was posthumously conferred the K Subramaniam Award by the Cine Technicians Association of South India on 29 December 2002.
It is then left to us music enthusiasts to remember him, and with undying gratitude, for he bestowed upon Tamil film Music some of its finest and defining moments in the latter half of the 70s. And this was no mean achievement, considering that he had no powerful promoter, no benevolent patron, no big-banner projects. MSV was very much in the centre-stage. Ilaiyaraja had made a dazzling entry and was composing marvelous songs, album after album. Shankar-Ganesh were around to cater to the smaller banners. Talented composers such as V. Kumar and Shyam found some projects coming their way. VB had to reckon with all these factors, and all he got in the years 1974-1983 were 23 movies. Many of them were not great commercial successes. Yet, if most of these movies are remembered today, it is only for the eternally appealing musical score of VB. Indeed, his songs are gems of purest ray serene that the dark unfathom’d caves of those unremarkable films bear.
However, even much earlier that 1974, VB had entered the portals of Tamil Cinema, albeit through the dubbing route-this innings lasted 5 years, commencing from அன்பே தெய்வம் (1957), and ending with அரபு நாட்டு அழகி (1961). அன்பே தெய்வம் was the Tamil version of Nagendra Rao’s Kannada movie Premada Putri. In the late 50s and early 60s, many of the Hindi movies made by Homi Wadia were dubbed in Tamil and tasted commercial success. Kuyilan wrote the Tamil lyrics of the songs. The Hindi compositions, be it by S.N. Tripathi or Chitragupta, were recorded anew with southern singers by VB. A young S. Janaki crooning 'கோடானக்கோடி பேரே' (ஸ்ரீ ராமபக்த ஹனுமன்), P. Susheela making merry in 'என் நெஞ்சம் உன்னை அகலாது' (ஜிம்போ), A.M. Raja & Susheela's two duets 'உன்ன அன்பை தேடுகின்றேன்' & 'கண்ணீர் துளியால்' (அரபுநாட்டு அழகி), Koka Jamunarani’s sizzling ‘நெஞ்சில் நிறைந்த வீரா’ (நகரத்தில் ஜிம்போ) are remembered to this day by wizened old-timers with a nostalgic sigh.
Despite coming out with riveting and widely admired Kannada compositions with melody as the mainstay all through the 60s, it was only in 1974 that VB could get an opportunity to work for a straight Tamil film. Chitramahal Krishnamoorthi, who was impressed with Vijayabhaskar’s score in the Kannada film Nagara Haavu (1972), commissioned him to compose the music for his கல்யாணமாம் கல்யாணம் (Ironically, when Nagara Haavu was remade in Tamil as ராஜநாகம், the music was composed by V. Kumar). And the wondrous ‘இளமை நாட்டிய சாலை’ heralded the arrival of VB in Tamil Cinema.
He struck gold with his very first album and bagged a handful of projects in quick succession. In 1974 itself, Vijayabhaskar gave music for four movies. In the next year, six films came out bedecked with Vijayabhaskar’s melodious songs. Chitramahal Krishnamoorthi and Panju Arunachalam made repeated collaborations with him. However, Chitramahal Krishnamoorthi’s subsequent ventures were not great commercial successes. Panju Arunachalam discovered Ilayaraja in 1976. And Vijayabhaskar was left with a few projects by small-time producers.
A list of Vijayabhaskar’s works in Tamil that I can recall:
1. கல்யாணமாம் கல்யாணம் (1974)
2. எங்கம்மா சபதம் (1974)
3. உன்னைத்தான் தம்பி (1974)
4. உங்கள் விருப்பம் (1974)
5. மயங்குகிறாள் ஒரு மாது(1975)
6. யாருக்கு மாப்பிள்ளை யாரோ (1975)
7. மாலை சூடவா (1975)
8. உறவு சொல்ல ஒருவன் (1975)
9. உங்க வீட்டு கல்யாணம் (1975)
10. தொட்டதெல்லாம் பொன்னாகும் (1975)
11. காலங்களில் அவள் வசந்தம் (1976)
12. மோகம் 30 வருஷம் (1976)
13. ஆடு புலி ஆட்டம் (1977)
14. ஒளிமயமான எதிர்காலம்(1977)
15. காலமடி காலம் (1977)
16. பெயர் சொல்ல ஒரு பிள்ளை (1978)
17. அவள் ஒரு அதிசயம் (1978)
18. தப்புத்தாளங்கள் (1978)
19. ராஜாவுக்கேற்ற ராணி (1978)
20. சொளந்தர்யமே வருக வருக (1980)
21. ஒரு கை பார்போம் (1983)
22. நீதியா நியாயமா (unreleased)
He did a film each for K. Balachandar and Sridhar, justifying fully the trust placed in him by the fastidious masters. Despite his works finding repeated airtime, VB could not secure any further Tamil projects. Ever the gentleman, VB was ‘too poor for a bribe, and too proud to importune; he had not the method of making a fortune’. He thereafter continued making music of his own enchanting kind for Kannada Cinema. His compositions in the 2001 Kannada film Neela won both critical acclaim and popular appeal. He had just completed the score for a movie called Poorvapara, when he received a summons from the heavens above. VB was, in many ways, much like Wordsworth’s Lucy- He lived unknown, and few could know when VB ceased to be….
Yet…. when you lie half-asleep cuddling to Yesudas crooning ‘மோகனப்புன்னகை ஊர்வலமே’ in the still of the night, or when SPB and Vani engulf you with a sense of the ethereal in ‘அன்பு மேகமே இங்கு ஓடி வா’, or when the same pair take on an enchanting stroll down memory lane with their salubrious ‘மாமதுரை நாட்டினில்’ or when you smile at L.R. Anjali having a blast in ‘ஐயராத்து பொண்ணு சொன்னா’, or when you exclaim with awe at Vani’s talents finding varied and exciting avenues in albums such as மயங்குகிறாள் ஒரு மாது and காலங்களில் அவள் வசந்தம், or when you sit transfixed at the silken tapestry that Susheela and SPB weave in ‘பனிமலை மேககங்கள்’, or the wave of nostalgia that sweeps you when you chance to hear the line ‘ஆசை என்பது அமுதம் அதில் ஆடி வந்தது குமுதம் ’ blaring from a roadside eatery as you turn a dusty corner of a road down South, or when you note with pleasure ‘சம்சாரம் என்பது வீணை’ finding place in a MP3 collection of SPB solos that you have laid your hands on in one of the many shops that line the streets adjoining the Ashram and the Temple in Pondicherry, you would remember with gratitude and reverence an unassuming gentleman and master music-smith, whose bewitching creations were part of our growing years…..
“Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad”
-Christina Rosetti
* * * * * *
For today’s edition of the மலர்ந்தும் மலராதவை series, let us listen to 2 songs composed by VB in 1979 for a movie called ‘விழிப்பு’ (Chitra Bharath) that was directed by the genius Nimai Ghosh. This was the only other Tamil movie that the ace cinematographer got to direct apart from the pathbreaking ‘பாதை தெரியுது பார்’ (1960). ‘விழிப்பு’ was scripted by the acclaimed writer M.A. Abbas, whose literary works include கள்ளத்தோணி, ஒளி பிறந்தது, ஒரு வட்டம், கலையின் விலை, besides Tamil translations of some English works such as Heinrich Harrer’s ‘Seven Years in Tibet’ and S. Chandrasekhar’s ‘Communist China Today’.
விழிப்பு was all about how vested interests play the religion card to sow discord among peace-loving people. When a sudden storm hits the tiny coastal village of Alangudi, the womenfolk wait anxiously for the return of the fishermen from the sea. All except two, Arumugam and Anthony come back safely. The two friends are washed ashore, and to their horror find themselves in Pei Theevu, the island that no one would venture into, for it was said to be haunted. Arumugam and Anthony wander all over the island, and find to their surprise that it is fertile and filled with natural resources in abundance. The sea all around seems teeming with fish of every variety.
The two friends return to Alangudi and speak to the village elders about Pei Theevu. And despite the resistance from the superstitious villagers, sail to Pei Theevu and settle there with their families and few friends. Over a few years, perceiving the growing prosperity of Arumugam and Anthony, more people from Alangudi relocate to Pei Theevu, which has been now renamed as Karunai Theevu. With increasing all-around affluence, a temple and a church spring up. Insignificant incidents get magnified to gigantic proportions, leading to rabble-rousing actions and communal riots. Friends turn into foes…..
M.A. Abbas had crafted the narrative with plausible characters with all their vulnerability, simple, realistic incidents and credible backdrops. Being a very low-budget venture, the cast was filled with new-comers. Vijay was the name of the young actor who essayed the role of Arumugam. Lavanya and Nanjil Nalini were perhaps the only known faces. Nimai Ghosh filled the frames with captivating shots of the relentless waves and the rustic beauty of a southern seaside hamlet. The screenplay was drafted shorn of frills, the dialogues simple and minimalistic, the tableaux realistic and natural….
Nimai Ghosh, who had elicited some compositions of eternal allure from M.B. Srinivasan for 'பாதை தெரியுது பார்’, sent for VB to compose the two songs that were envisaged for ‘விழிப்பு’. Being a low-budget venture, VB could not have the luxury of a full-fledged orchestra. While recalling her collaborations with VB, Vaniji once told me that VB could work with a spartan ensemble with equal ease as with a magnificent whole orchestra. We perceive the truth of Vaniji’s averment when listening to the two songs that VB composed for ‘விழிப்பு’. Even when employing minimal string, wind and percussion instruments, VB holds on to his melodic moorings and sails ashore triumphantly, with his trusted pair of singers.
The first is the lilting SPB- Vani duet ‘தங்கக்குடமெடுத்து’, written by KCS. Arunachalam. In a public library in Dubai one weekend afternoon, I chanced upon 'பாட்டு வராத குயில்’, a compilation of poems by KCS. Aruanchalam (1921-1999), and I was spellbound by the metaphors, the motifs, the matter, the meter employed by the poet, known for his leftist leanings. I sat immersed in the verdant vistas invoked by the verses; afternoon turned to evening and evening gave way to night; I was lost to my surroundings until the attendant called out that it was closing time. As I was returning home, I found myself humming ‘சிவந்த ரோஜா மலரை அணிந்து’ written by KCS Arunachalam for M.B. Srinivasan’s Madras Youth Choir. ‘பாடும் பறவைகளே’ was another MYC favourite penned by Arunachalam. As I had written earlier, how I wish Mao Tse-tung who declared with smug disdain ‘Communism has nothing to do with love', could have read the romantic verses of Turkish poet Comrade Nazim Hikmet or 'சின்னச்சின்ன மூக்குத்தியாம்' of Comrade KCS. Arunachalam!
Here, too, KCS Arunachalam’s lines are filled with delightful romantic banter between a fisherman and his lass, his idioms laced with the salt of the sea…. VB casts his austere net and hauls in a pearl that glistens in its very melodic simplicity. The song was picked up by Radio Ceylon and aired in the early 80s before being consigned to oblivion….
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tls3kDKNzJ0&feature=youtu.be
The next is the brooding ‘மனிதனுக்காக மதமா’, written by M.A. Abbas. The tranquil existence of the people in the isle is sullied by the poison of communal divide…. Fanatics have stoked a spark to a roaring fire that threatens to destroy the society…. The stark lines of the song bemoan the malice and the hatred that is propagated on the grounds of religion; they look back wistfully at the time when there was friendship across faiths…. Serenaded by sober male chorus voices, a ruminative SPB pleads for tolerance, understanding, reason, compassion…..
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KxcWakjBsic&feature=youtu.be
Made in 1979, ‘விழிப்பு’ could not find any takers. Finally, after ceaseless efforts, it was released in a few centers in 1981 under the name ‘சூறாவளி’. It was sent back to the cans almost at once. The TN Government conferred upon M.A. Abbas the ‘Best Writer’ Award in its Annual Film Honors for 1981. Vividh Bharathi chose to ignore the songs.
Discussion at:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/1018417744856618/permalink/2057580067607042/
மனிதனுக்காக மதமா....மததுக்காக மனிதனா..........
‘Would you like to compose music for a Kannada movie that I am making?’ asked B.R. Krishnamoorthi to a tall, dapper youngster whom he overhead speaking in Kannada. The year was 1954 and the venue was ‘Sarada Vilas’, a small Udupi restaurant in Matunga, Bombay. BRK had introduced himself to the young man and was so impressed with him that when he came know that he was a musician, gave him the said offer spontaneously.
The youngster was none other than Vijayabhaskar, who had been working in Bombay with several stalwart Hindi composers such as Madanmohan, Noushad and Shankar-Jaikishen. VB was excited to go back to his hometown Bangalore along with BRK, and engaging an orchestra called ‘Jaya Maruthi’, composed the songs and completed the recording in Mysore. The movie ‘Sri Rama Puja’ (1955) was not a commercial success, but VB’s inventive compositions brought a refreshing whiff of originality in the portals of Kannada Cinema. There was no looking back and VB albums in Kannada such as Rani Honamma, Santa Tukaram, Naandi fetched him raving laurels in those early years.
VB was born in 1924 in Bangalore. His grandfather, Arumuga Mudaliar, hailed from Serkaadu, a village near Vellore. Both his grandfather and father V.A. Krishnamoorthi were engineers. VB grew up in Malleswaram, in a rich musical environment. He listened attentively when his sisters were being taught Carnatic music. The temples surrounding the area resonated with devotional music all day long. He learned Hindustani music from a master called Bhave. Impressed by the western music that was being played in the hotels at the Cantonment, VB undertook formal lessons in Western Music for five years from Leny Hunt, an English musician. Later, he discontinued the engineering course he was pursuing and went to Bombay. His astute knowledge of notations and skills on the piano fetched him the above mentioned opportunities to work for the great composers of the time.
Continuing his success trail, VB composed music for Puttana Kanagal’s first movie ‘Belli Moda’ (1967) and this marked the beginning of a long and fruitful association with the ace director. Along with GKV and Rajan-Nagendra, VB was in the forefront of Kannada film music all through the 60s, 70s and even the 80s. His magnificent compositions in movies such as Mannina Maga, Uyyale, Mallamana Paavada, Yaava Janmada Maitri, Sankalpa, Gejje Pooje, Sharapanjara, Naagarahaavu, Kesarina Kamala (VB introduced Vani Jairam in Kannada cinema in this album), Upasane, Shubhamangala, Besuge and many more remain hugely popular to this day. His score for the 1986 musical Malayamarutha is spoken of with awe, even in erudite music circles. Bringing out the best in the vocals of Yesudas, SPB, S. Janaki and his favourite Vani, VB crafted each song in the album with scintillating finesse.
The astute Adoor Gopalakrishnan picked VB to compose the background score for his iconic Mathilukal, which had no songs. VB went on to work with the famed filmmaker for Vidheyan and Kathapurushan. The Karnataka Government recognized the talents of VB by conferring upon him the Best Music Award for a record 6 years and honoured him with the coveted Dr. Rajkumar Award in 2000.
VB passed away in March 2002; his demise going largely unnoticed in Tamil Nadu. His contribution to Tamil Film Music has gone largely unrecognised and unappreciated. It is a crying disgrace that the TN Government did not find it fit to honour him in any way while he was amidst us, or his memory after his demise. A small consolation is that he was posthumously conferred the K Subramaniam Award by the Cine Technicians Association of South India on 29 December 2002.
It is then left to us music enthusiasts to remember him, and with undying gratitude, for he bestowed upon Tamil film Music some of its finest and defining moments in the latter half of the 70s. And this was no mean achievement, considering that he had no powerful promoter, no benevolent patron, no big-banner projects. MSV was very much in the centre-stage. Ilaiyaraja had made a dazzling entry and was composing marvelous songs, album after album. Shankar-Ganesh were around to cater to the smaller banners. Talented composers such as V. Kumar and Shyam found some projects coming their way. VB had to reckon with all these factors, and all he got in the years 1974-1983 were 23 movies. Many of them were not great commercial successes. Yet, if most of these movies are remembered today, it is only for the eternally appealing musical score of VB. Indeed, his songs are gems of purest ray serene that the dark unfathom’d caves of those unremarkable films bear.
However, even much earlier that 1974, VB had entered the portals of Tamil Cinema, albeit through the dubbing route-this innings lasted 5 years, commencing from அன்பே தெய்வம் (1957), and ending with அரபு நாட்டு அழகி (1961). அன்பே தெய்வம் was the Tamil version of Nagendra Rao’s Kannada movie Premada Putri. In the late 50s and early 60s, many of the Hindi movies made by Homi Wadia were dubbed in Tamil and tasted commercial success. Kuyilan wrote the Tamil lyrics of the songs. The Hindi compositions, be it by S.N. Tripathi or Chitragupta, were recorded anew with southern singers by VB. A young S. Janaki crooning 'கோடானக்கோடி பேரே' (ஸ்ரீ ராமபக்த ஹனுமன்), P. Susheela making merry in 'என் நெஞ்சம் உன்னை அகலாது' (ஜிம்போ), A.M. Raja & Susheela's two duets 'உன்ன அன்பை தேடுகின்றேன்' & 'கண்ணீர் துளியால்' (அரபுநாட்டு அழகி), Koka Jamunarani’s sizzling ‘நெஞ்சில் நிறைந்த வீரா’ (நகரத்தில் ஜிம்போ) are remembered to this day by wizened old-timers with a nostalgic sigh.
Despite coming out with riveting and widely admired Kannada compositions with melody as the mainstay all through the 60s, it was only in 1974 that VB could get an opportunity to work for a straight Tamil film. Chitramahal Krishnamoorthi, who was impressed with Vijayabhaskar’s score in the Kannada film Nagara Haavu (1972), commissioned him to compose the music for his கல்யாணமாம் கல்யாணம் (Ironically, when Nagara Haavu was remade in Tamil as ராஜநாகம், the music was composed by V. Kumar). And the wondrous ‘இளமை நாட்டிய சாலை’ heralded the arrival of VB in Tamil Cinema.
He struck gold with his very first album and bagged a handful of projects in quick succession. In 1974 itself, Vijayabhaskar gave music for four movies. In the next year, six films came out bedecked with Vijayabhaskar’s melodious songs. Chitramahal Krishnamoorthi and Panju Arunachalam made repeated collaborations with him. However, Chitramahal Krishnamoorthi’s subsequent ventures were not great commercial successes. Panju Arunachalam discovered Ilayaraja in 1976. And Vijayabhaskar was left with a few projects by small-time producers.
A list of Vijayabhaskar’s works in Tamil that I can recall:
1. கல்யாணமாம் கல்யாணம் (1974)
2. எங்கம்மா சபதம் (1974)
3. உன்னைத்தான் தம்பி (1974)
4. உங்கள் விருப்பம் (1974)
5. மயங்குகிறாள் ஒரு மாது(1975)
6. யாருக்கு மாப்பிள்ளை யாரோ (1975)
7. மாலை சூடவா (1975)
8. உறவு சொல்ல ஒருவன் (1975)
9. உங்க வீட்டு கல்யாணம் (1975)
10. தொட்டதெல்லாம் பொன்னாகும் (1975)
11. காலங்களில் அவள் வசந்தம் (1976)
12. மோகம் 30 வருஷம் (1976)
13. ஆடு புலி ஆட்டம் (1977)
14. ஒளிமயமான எதிர்காலம்(1977)
15. காலமடி காலம் (1977)
16. பெயர் சொல்ல ஒரு பிள்ளை (1978)
17. அவள் ஒரு அதிசயம் (1978)
18. தப்புத்தாளங்கள் (1978)
19. ராஜாவுக்கேற்ற ராணி (1978)
20. சொளந்தர்யமே வருக வருக (1980)
21. ஒரு கை பார்போம் (1983)
22. நீதியா நியாயமா (unreleased)
Yet…. when you lie half-asleep cuddling to Yesudas crooning ‘மோகனப்புன்னகை ஊர்வலமே’ in the still of the night, or when SPB and Vani engulf you with a sense of the ethereal in ‘அன்பு மேகமே இங்கு ஓடி வா’, or when the same pair take on an enchanting stroll down memory lane with their salubrious ‘மாமதுரை நாட்டினில்’ or when you smile at L.R. Anjali having a blast in ‘ஐயராத்து பொண்ணு சொன்னா’, or when you exclaim with awe at Vani’s talents finding varied and exciting avenues in albums such as மயங்குகிறாள் ஒரு மாது and காலங்களில் அவள் வசந்தம், or when you sit transfixed at the silken tapestry that Susheela and SPB weave in ‘பனிமலை மேககங்கள்’, or the wave of nostalgia that sweeps you when you chance to hear the line ‘ஆசை என்பது அமுதம் அதில் ஆடி வந்தது குமுதம் ’ blaring from a roadside eatery as you turn a dusty corner of a road down South, or when you note with pleasure ‘சம்சாரம் என்பது வீணை’ finding place in a MP3 collection of SPB solos that you have laid your hands on in one of the many shops that line the streets adjoining the Ashram and the Temple in Pondicherry, you would remember with gratitude and reverence an unassuming gentleman and master music-smith, whose bewitching creations were part of our growing years…..
“Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad”
-Christina Rosetti
* * * * * *
For today’s edition of the மலர்ந்தும் மலராதவை series, let us listen to 2 songs composed by VB in 1979 for a movie called ‘விழிப்பு’ (Chitra Bharath) that was directed by the genius Nimai Ghosh. This was the only other Tamil movie that the ace cinematographer got to direct apart from the pathbreaking ‘பாதை தெரியுது பார்’ (1960). ‘விழிப்பு’ was scripted by the acclaimed writer M.A. Abbas, whose literary works include கள்ளத்தோணி, ஒளி பிறந்தது, ஒரு வட்டம், கலையின் விலை, besides Tamil translations of some English works such as Heinrich Harrer’s ‘Seven Years in Tibet’ and S. Chandrasekhar’s ‘Communist China Today’.
விழிப்பு was all about how vested interests play the religion card to sow discord among peace-loving people. When a sudden storm hits the tiny coastal village of Alangudi, the womenfolk wait anxiously for the return of the fishermen from the sea. All except two, Arumugam and Anthony come back safely. The two friends are washed ashore, and to their horror find themselves in Pei Theevu, the island that no one would venture into, for it was said to be haunted. Arumugam and Anthony wander all over the island, and find to their surprise that it is fertile and filled with natural resources in abundance. The sea all around seems teeming with fish of every variety.
The two friends return to Alangudi and speak to the village elders about Pei Theevu. And despite the resistance from the superstitious villagers, sail to Pei Theevu and settle there with their families and few friends. Over a few years, perceiving the growing prosperity of Arumugam and Anthony, more people from Alangudi relocate to Pei Theevu, which has been now renamed as Karunai Theevu. With increasing all-around affluence, a temple and a church spring up. Insignificant incidents get magnified to gigantic proportions, leading to rabble-rousing actions and communal riots. Friends turn into foes…..
M.A. Abbas had crafted the narrative with plausible characters with all their vulnerability, simple, realistic incidents and credible backdrops. Being a very low-budget venture, the cast was filled with new-comers. Vijay was the name of the young actor who essayed the role of Arumugam. Lavanya and Nanjil Nalini were perhaps the only known faces. Nimai Ghosh filled the frames with captivating shots of the relentless waves and the rustic beauty of a southern seaside hamlet. The screenplay was drafted shorn of frills, the dialogues simple and minimalistic, the tableaux realistic and natural….
Nimai Ghosh, who had elicited some compositions of eternal allure from M.B. Srinivasan for 'பாதை தெரியுது பார்’, sent for VB to compose the two songs that were envisaged for ‘விழிப்பு’. Being a low-budget venture, VB could not have the luxury of a full-fledged orchestra. While recalling her collaborations with VB, Vaniji once told me that VB could work with a spartan ensemble with equal ease as with a magnificent whole orchestra. We perceive the truth of Vaniji’s averment when listening to the two songs that VB composed for ‘விழிப்பு’. Even when employing minimal string, wind and percussion instruments, VB holds on to his melodic moorings and sails ashore triumphantly, with his trusted pair of singers.
The first is the lilting SPB- Vani duet ‘தங்கக்குடமெடுத்து’, written by KCS. Arunachalam. In a public library in Dubai one weekend afternoon, I chanced upon 'பாட்டு வராத குயில்’, a compilation of poems by KCS. Aruanchalam (1921-1999), and I was spellbound by the metaphors, the motifs, the matter, the meter employed by the poet, known for his leftist leanings. I sat immersed in the verdant vistas invoked by the verses; afternoon turned to evening and evening gave way to night; I was lost to my surroundings until the attendant called out that it was closing time. As I was returning home, I found myself humming ‘சிவந்த ரோஜா மலரை அணிந்து’ written by KCS Arunachalam for M.B. Srinivasan’s Madras Youth Choir. ‘பாடும் பறவைகளே’ was another MYC favourite penned by Arunachalam. As I had written earlier, how I wish Mao Tse-tung who declared with smug disdain ‘Communism has nothing to do with love', could have read the romantic verses of Turkish poet Comrade Nazim Hikmet or 'சின்னச்சின்ன மூக்குத்தியாம்' of Comrade KCS. Arunachalam!
Here, too, KCS Arunachalam’s lines are filled with delightful romantic banter between a fisherman and his lass, his idioms laced with the salt of the sea…. VB casts his austere net and hauls in a pearl that glistens in its very melodic simplicity. The song was picked up by Radio Ceylon and aired in the early 80s before being consigned to oblivion….
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tls3kDKNzJ0&feature=youtu.be
The next is the brooding ‘மனிதனுக்காக மதமா’, written by M.A. Abbas. The tranquil existence of the people in the isle is sullied by the poison of communal divide…. Fanatics have stoked a spark to a roaring fire that threatens to destroy the society…. The stark lines of the song bemoan the malice and the hatred that is propagated on the grounds of religion; they look back wistfully at the time when there was friendship across faiths…. Serenaded by sober male chorus voices, a ruminative SPB pleads for tolerance, understanding, reason, compassion…..
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KxcWakjBsic&feature=youtu.be
Made in 1979, ‘விழிப்பு’ could not find any takers. Finally, after ceaseless efforts, it was released in a few centers in 1981 under the name ‘சூறாவளி’. It was sent back to the cans almost at once. The TN Government conferred upon M.A. Abbas the ‘Best Writer’ Award in its Annual Film Honors for 1981. Vividh Bharathi chose to ignore the songs.
Discussion at:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/1018417744856618/permalink/2057580067607042/
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