Vande Cricketum!

I am a cricket lover. I am a die hard Indian supporter, no doubt. I simply love Sachin doing his magic and Sehwag pulverising the opposition. I get the feeling of adrenaline at every century hit, every boundary scored, every sixer hit and every crucial over and not to forget, every wicket taken.

All this apart, personally, for me, sport is more than just being patriotic. Although it has been that way and it will continue to be so, I have been having a deep thought of disassociating nationalism/patriotism from sport, especially cricket.

In fact, cricket is much beyond patriotism. It is an art. A science. A true cricket-lover would appreciate any team winning against any other. She would love any player do his job the best way(I used "she" as a syntax to please any feminist that would appreciate my article!). In fact, the very reason Sachin is successful is because he loves the game. Often interpreted as the love for the country, more often proved so than not, it essentially boils down to one fact. Sachin is in pursuit of excellence. Every other game he improves himself. He just loves to go down there, invent new shots, perfect the already invented ones and add total charm to the game. The sport evolves.

Even now, I must agree I am bordering on the lines of hypocrisy by unduly talking mostly, if not entirely about Sachin. See. Yet again. But human nature and tendency makes me so. But, I would like to share a thought. I have a feeling that commentators like Gavaskar and Shastri are doing a great job. They up the euphoria during every century hit, every boundary scored, every sixer hit and every crucial over and not to forget, every wicket taken**(In lack of a better expression, I settled for a copy-paste). But beyond a point it seems like much ado about nothing. By doing so, they often miss the finer nuances of the game. It gives undue (im)balance of perspective to one team alone. Instead, they could border(pun intended) more on technique. On strategy. On appreciating cricket as a pure art form. Or science. Or perhaps even engineering*(to please my fraternity) .And for this I would recommend (if I had the powers), to bring in commentators from other countries, more experienced ones like the Windies and South Africa. They don't necessarily need to have been int'l players, do they?(I am not requesting for Man-deera's, sorry feminists). However to cool you, Anjum Chopra could just be a perfect choice.

I am writing this article for three reasons.
3. To prove to myself that I can write.
2. To kick the laziness in me.
1. To want more people to 'like' this comment passively.
0. To spring up a thread where people can discuss more on the ideas put-up
-1.To criticize me.

So please go on, do item no. 0, and feel free to appreciate me on items 3 to negative 1.

Escape
Aravindh

Peace...
Or not

Posted on my facebook notes on December 4, 2009

The Smart Rasika

Exam time begins, and my mind slips away into deep reverie on how I’m going to enjoy my holidays. And once done, my musical journey starts. On Friday I had been to Sanjay Subrahmanyam’s concert. It was at a half-past-six, but I saw no throngs of people, waiting to nudge their way through with a no-care-attitude as to whose toes are getting stamped. Surprisingly, the smart rasikas were already inside, listening to the earlier concert!

In the balcony, there were just steps, like the chepauk stadium B-Stand, where one is comfortable in the “chaplaankaal” posture. Quite contrastingly in the lower bays, chairs were haphazard for maamis wanting to socialize like in a wedding. My uncle, managed it into the VIP bay claiming “Enakku IG ya nalla theriyum”. Envying, I wanted to experiment. Luckily, I was wearing a Fab India Kurta. Maintaining a gait of an elite rasika, I walked towards the VIP gate. The security guy there, believing that I was a musical stalwart, saluted me with a customary “Namaskaram” and ushered me to a seat in the VIP bay! I was on cloud nine.

The kutcheri began. Junta were on “talaiyaattal” mode. I’m sure its a good exercise for spinal stenosis. Or would it worsen it? The heads rotate, gyrate, shake with all possible degrees of freedom with an oft repeated Aah..ah! or Sabaash…!! In identifying ragas, our people are the best. The man in the olive green shirt got it spot on as “Sahana”, whispered it carefully to his wife only being loud enough for the eavesdropping maama two rows away ready for an auditory catch. What comes next is predictable. The maama was boisterously exulting… “Sahana…aha”…. “Sahana…aha”.

Figuring out taalams? Hilarious! I saw not ONE but TWO maamis clad in exquisite “pattu” sarees, earnestly tapping “Adi Taalam” with their fingers swaying in air, for a song undoubtedly in “Rupaka Taalam” which Sanjay was tapping with all josh.

The attitude which Sanjay exuded was super-cool. His pronunciation was crystal-spashtam. His energy levels are unprecedented and he sure is as charismatic as he is referred to be. The theme - Dhandapani Desikar was an appropriate tribute on his centenary. Tamizh in its purest form reverberated through the hall and our minds. Profound philosophy emanated in golden words and undulating ragas.

The “Kelvi Neram” was the icing on the cake. All questions were given witty and thought provoking replies. Sanjay redefined music, being totally creative, making us truly enjoy music like never before. With rib-tickling ripostes and soul-stirring renditions, Sanjay “Splendid” Subrahmanyam took us all to seventh heaven with just seven beautiful swaras.

Aravindh Kamakshinadha

December 6, 2008

Bourgeois!

This blog is just a reflection of what a majority of the Indian urban middle-class person will experiences. I might be just talking of a routine, a set of events, but in reality they represent the overall outlook and attitude of the bourgeoise.

It is today, the 2nd of May,  a Wednesday, a decently hot day, comparitively not that humid, thanks to the weather. Getting up early in the morning say 630 is close to impossible considering the fact that my holidays have just begun. Hence, anywhere between 830 and 845 is the wake up time, the alarm being the humdrum of the washing machine, the startling roar of the mixie, or the cacophonic honk of the bus, a road away. Still struggling to wake up after the late night cricket match, I somehow push myself to consiousness, only to realise that I have a number of tasks to accomplish during the course of the day.

The moment my dad realises that I am somewhere close to waking up, he starts giving instructions to what the tasks are. A big list is dictated, my mind half-grasping it. Midway, I start thinking how to accomplish these, losing out to hear the rest of the list. Father, however does realise that I m lost and reiterates the list strongly only to startle me from my reverie.

The moment after I place my toothbrush back, the coffee reminder is done. On the way I go to grab my cuppa, I am requested to urgently iron dads shirt and to sort out the clothes to wash.

I find my coffee, thank god still hot. I sit relishing the coffee, perfectly made, albeit the extra sugar and strong decoction. Two sips, and the bell rings, in an irritating high-pitched tone, purposely held long to indicate urgency. "Isthree" he calls out, the iron-man, both literally and metaphorically, who seems to have absolutely no idea of what patience means. Seriously reluctant to attend to the call, I stop having my coffee, I immediately start packing to to-be-ironed-clothes. Mom, dad and granny, sympathise  with me and ask me to finish my cuppa before I pack. Gobbling the decently warm coffee at a breakneck speed, I finally pack the clothes and give it to the stone-faced iron-man. Before even I say "Anna 16 Clothes", he usurps it from me and is already fleeing down the stairs. If it had been the month-end, I m sure he would have been a way more courteous, for his salary being due.

Chapter two, I jump in for a freshening bath, but not without instructions from mother I barely understand or even hear clearly. Thinking that its just some Yes/No question I keep saying the customary "Mmm..."s and "Mmm..hmmm"s. Then mom starts banging the door, I close the tap and listen to her intently, realising that she had actually asked for the soap water filled bucket for soaking clothes. With soap all over my body, I carefully, open the door ajar, place the bucket out. The bath continues after two more such disturbances- brother asking for his watch and father for his mobile-phone. I finish my bath, wipe myself half wet, dress up, get to the pooja room, apply vibhooti and start chanting, simultaneously listening to the breakfast call and some more instructions.

Breakfast, I have been accustomed to doing this rapidly fast, right from my schooldays when I had to avoid being late. My record for the quickest breakfast had been 38 seconds.  Father leaves to office, mother resumes to cooking and brother runs away to the neighbour kids house. 

I sit, relaxing with the newspaper, but before I could finish the 22 odd pages, I m disturbed 5 times, once for attending a desperate salesman, once to help the housemaid make a phone call, once for the courier, once to attend dads phonecall, where he asks for some phone number, or to read out a grocery list, and the most irritating part, when the Exnora garbage man comes, everytime only after I have a bath, I pick up the trash can and place it back. Usually, there is also a phone call or two, which is invariably a wrong number (predominantly asking for "Shanti Optics") or an unknown relative, or someone for who our maid servant works for.

Finally finishing the newspaper, I am asked to hang the clothes for drying. The next job is to get the "PAAL CARDU" (the monthly milk card) from the booth, with a low, rusty metal ceiling/sunshade which ensures a bruise or a scratch, howmuchever I try to avoid it. Waiting in line, I see senior citizens extremely meticulous, handing the exact change to the officer, often outsmarting him in calculating the bill, when the officer is still fumbling with the calculator. After this I am to pay the Electricity bill, where I find close to a dozen counters with five to ten people at each counter. As expected, my queue is the slowest to move. Here I see a different scene. Quite contrary to the "Thaatha" at the milk booth, the elderly woman here, miscalculates the amount, but is very confident of her calculation. There is quite a quarrel between the officer and the woman, finally the woman succumbs and reluctantly accepts her mistake.

The bill being paid, I walk back home, where I see Babloo or Ramya or some old buddy, who I start to share memories or daily cribbing with. Most of the time it is also gossip. Half an hour is gone, and thanks to the mobile phone, my mom traces me and immediately asks me to be back home.

Once back home, I m already hearing my granny giving her vitriolic and sarcastic comments to the poor servant maid often terming her to be a pachyderm. Some more household chores follow and I come and sit on the comp. Now the blaring starts, the TV serial that granny watches at close to infinite volume. To shun that sound, I competitively put some music on and start browsing or working, in todays case writing this blog.

The afternoon passes by and I hit the beach in the evening. When I come back late, I realise that I have not even done half the assigned duties. The look on my dads face makes me feel guilty. He never scolds, but it makes sure that I have been irresponsible after all. I resort to being more responsible and get back to the comp or the cricket match, only waiting for a similar day ahead.

Patience, perseverence, duty-boundedness, workaholism, ability to control ones feelings, sacrifice, helping tendency, self-work-accomplishment have become an integral part of the bourgeois way of living. Whatever happens, it sure is not going to change. 

There are lot more indignations that I feel to write about...They might perhaps appear in my next blog.

Interesting and happy to know...

The recent surrender of arms by a few ULFA militant youths is commendable. I am sure we will all be very happy to know that terrorism at last is showing signs of retrieval in some form. I am always a believer of one basic fact, which anyone with rational thinking would appreciate. A child born to a terrorist and brought up in a terrorist community and environment will have a totally different mindset, outlook and attitude towards life. The child wouldnt know to discern right from wrong and would absorb and do whatever his elders and family seem to follow. Right from a young age it is instilled in him to be radical, instigated that those people are his enemies and those are the things he has to strive for. It will be etched in his mind that that his aim in life is to bring terror to mankind. When such a thing happens to an entire generation of individuals the situation becomes worse leading to radicalism, without any endearing value. It becomes very difficult to change the mindset of these people, until they realise themselves that pain brings misery. Interestingly such a thing has happened in Assam. Youths themselves have given up terrorism and surrendered. And the best of things is that the government is channeling them the right way providing them with voluntary occupational training and giving them a decent stipend. I hope this act of embracing and forgivingness should enlighten more of those young, misled minds to give up this devilsing terrorism, which would enable mankind to flourish.

The maestros

It has been so many times when I wanted to write about this topic. Its been bothering me for so long, its been pushing me to vent my views about this …finally the blogsite came to rescue. Here, I deliver my first blog on Ilayaraja and A R Rahman.

Both, musicians, have mesmerized millions, perhaps billions with their divine sense of captivating music - a wonderful way of delivering it to us.

The former reigned in the eighties and the latter in the nineties. I clearly dont want to draw a comparative analysis, which will create a barrage to free flowing thoughts and will not create an actual representation of what my mind has envisaged- after all blogs are supposed to justify this.

Ilayaraja in his own sense was a prince. A ‘young king’ as his name translates; indeed he has been the king, but only after undergoing stressful days, months and years. The reason was endurance, sincerity, relentlessness and of course sheer talent! Each of the aforesaid characteristics have reinforced each other to have made him succeed and still remains the backbone of his long lasting career.

A R Rahman, similar to Ilayaraja, was an embodiment of those characteristics. But wait, I am not trying to bring out their lives… I am going to write on how their music has affected me….how it has impressed me…and what I find so lovable and enjoyable in their music…

Ilayaraja’s talent and music knowledge is transcendental. He is a genius. The ragas he uses are splendid, raga combos- simply mind-blowing. (Nilave Vaa of Mouna Raagam/ Kalyana Thenila of Mounam Sammadham) This shows how much of Carnatic Music was inside him, without which such compositions would have not been possible at all. The greatest avantage of Ilayaraja was that he made hits, he made music reach so much into the common man, and yet made it complex in its own way. The charanams (stanzas) are too good… and the best fact is that in most of his songs both the charanams are not identical…

Added to this, the complexities lie in the fact that the music bits between the pallavi (start and repetitive part of song)and charanam and between the charanams are incredible. (Believe me they are impossible to reproduce even with latest equipment). This part of Ilayaraja’s music impresses me the most. Listen to Kalyana Maalai of Puthu Puthu Arthangal and Rakkamma kaiyathattu of Thalapathi. I am giving you these to relate to what I am saying, but there are umpteen more songs which I could exemplify, the problem is that the list is unending!

His strength and génre are predominantly lite melody, which he incorporates in his songs in a multitude of ways. His music has always suited the situation in the films so much that there couldn’t have been better way the director could have tried to express and bring impact. He has brought an exquisite touch be it village & folk (Raasave Varuthama of Muthal Mariyathai & Manguyile of Karagaattakaran) or urban, youthful and peppy numbers (In Agninatchathram and Punnagai Mannan).

I strongly assure one thing, but Ilayaraja’s sense of music has derived styles from Western Rock numbers. Some of his songs actually have strong influences from Deep Purple. He has been very careful and has executed it to perfection that it seems to have been our own music. The way he uses the acoustic guitar in Ilayanila Pozhigirathu of Moodu Pani is fantastic. Coupled with beautiful lyrics this song is a les classique.

Trivia: Ilayaraja started playing the guitar so well the first time he handled it, that it made the onlookers spellbound.
Even non-Tamil speaking guitarists in Malaysia were moved to give glowing tributes to Ilayaraja for what they considered a masterpiece. This song made them lookout and dig the background of Ilayaraja.

Percussion is again something that provided a strong base to most of his numbers. Ranging from tabla, mridangam, ghatam to drums and pads it has suited his songs to yield an ultimate output. The examples are innumerable…(Raja of Agninatchathram is undoubtedly the best)

To sum up in simple words:

1. Ilayaraja is great.
2. You are missing something in life if you don’t listen to his songs.
3. Listen to his songs, and you will want to write a blog similar to mine.
4. If you have listened to his songs, you will appreciate my blog and also my first three points.

Folks, I have summed up only the first part of my blog. Well, the second starts here:

When people say ‘thalaivar’ here in Chennai, we associate it to only three people.

A. Rajni Kanth
B. Sachin Tendulkar
C. A R Rahman

Agreed?
We are totally Rajni crazy and his on-screen charisma is matchless and that’s why his is the SUPERSTAR.
We are totally Sachin crazy that when you say Cricket, the first thing that comes to our mind is him. His on-field charisma is matchless.
We are totally Rahman crazy that when you say music, AR Rahman flashes and needless to say his charisma is matchless.

He has redefined music. It is perceived by the heart, not by the brain. It resonates with the very rhythm of life!

Some people say ARR is God. Indeed he is. He has been the creator.
A genius in his own way, A R Rahman’s music has enthralled zillions all round the globe.

When an album of his releases, so much buzz and frenzy is created. The albums a hit, raising the hype and expectations about the film. Some of the films have become huge hits merely because of his music.

His strength is that his ragas are so simple. Still the song is complex. He makes use of technology so beautifully that singers feel that whatever they actually record constitute only 5% of the song. The rest… he does the magic.

The range of instruments he uses goes from flute to saxophone, Veena to santoor, again Bongo & Tok tok, to Sivamani’s contraption.

Again each of his songs of an album is unique. Each one has a separate genre. Take Kadhalan: Urvasi is youthful and peppy, makes you dance;
Ennavale: definition of melody; Pettai Rap: Superb combo of Rap and Gana; Gopala: Ultimate folk; Muqqabla: Another legend…which however made audiences gape with the Wild west set up and SplFX.
Kadhalikkum: Beautiful blend of Carnatic and pop.
A similar combination exists in Indian, Mudhalvan, Muthu etc.

Just look at this, most of his songs have a great start that make you listen to. That’s what attracts you to the song. This is what I’ ve found. See in Humma Humma of Bombay or Maya Machindra of Indian. Both have literally trumpeting starts that make you drop jaws.

Complexity: Another point worth reckoning. I listen to a song once.
I don’t like it. Then I listen again…I find something. Thrice…I find something more. Kept listening and now I cant stop. The music grows into you. You start liking and appreciating some part of that song and then the song consumes you. It becomes utterly irresistible.

You tend to love the nuances. There will be a mridangam bit, a veena bit or a chime that lasts only for merely few seconds in the whole song somewhere in the middle. At one point I started listening to the whole song just for that miniscule bit. (Veena in Chinna Chinna Aasa of Roja, Mridangam in Ennavale Adi Ennavale of Kadhalan)

Another strongpoint is the importance he gives to the style and authenticity. Music directors generally incorporate popular pieces of an instrument from some music into their composition…example the Irish pipe or the Sax.

This genius does it the other way…Say Belly dance and he composes an Arabic song with so much realism and originality and the hindi/tamil lyrics just fit into it. (Mayya Mayya of Guru, Kuluvalile of Muthu, and an entire album..Warriors of Heaven and Earth)

Vande Mataram: A milestone.
This made people of all ages love him. He seriously instilled back the once lacking patriotic sense in all of us. National Integration, unity, brotherhood, love for the nation definitely was impacted…if not greatly but atleast in the minds of most.

Hitherto, I feel that his Vande Mataram would be a better choice than Jana Gana Mana for our National Anthem. Dont you??

Summarzing:

1.A R Rahman is great
2.Vande Mataram should become National Anthem
3. He is the ‘thalaivar’
4.Everyone is vulnerable to fall in love with his music

This is my opinion. This is what I felt, what my mind says. And some of those points, I realized when my friends told me. It’s a bricolage of my thoughts. I finally feel alleviated from the unending botheration to pour out what I feel. More to come…

Till then…bye bye…