The Yellow Wood

Thamizha Thamizha (Roja)

2009-01-29T11:01:00.005Z

O Tamil! our tomorrow is all our tomorrow
தமிழா, தமிழா! நாளை நம் நாளே
O Tamil! this land is all our land!
தமிழா, தமிழா! நாடும் நாடே!

Say that my home is the Tamil motherland.
Be firm that my name is always Indian.

The Community may vary, but the Values are one
The Place may vary, but the Country is one
The Language may vary, but the Meaning is one
The Staff may vary, but the Flag is one
the Direction may vary, but the Land is one
The Music may be different, but the Melody is one
We are all India, we are one.

O Tamil! Don't shed any tears
O Tamil! It will dawn, don't be fade inside

Isn't there Indian blood inside you?
Then won't united India protect you?
Our India is common to all
It is born out out of hard toil.
Diversity was the fertiliser used to create it
We are the roots that make it strong.

O human!
It is strong
There shouldn't be division on this land.
O Lord!

Lyrics by Mahakavi Bharathi
Translation bibliography:

Benjamin, Sonia. (2006) A rose by any other name: exploring the politics of Mani Ratnam's Roja. Contemporary South Asia 15(4):423-435. (http://www.basas.org.uk/conference06/SoniaBenjamin.pdf, http://www.informaworld.com/index/780489262.pdf)
Benjamin (2006) cites help from English subtitles from Roja DVD (Ayngaran).
Youtube video description by ganesh25883 (http://youtube.com/watch?v=-zu0PGvg9nw)
http://www.google.com/transliterate/indic/Tamil

30Qs Tag

2008-04-10T23:20:00.004+01:00

I was tagged eljo eons ago. When I came back to the blog I was surprised to see that I still hadn't published this post. I thought it'd be interesting to see whether my answers have changed at all.

1. LAST MOVIE YOU SAW IN A THEATRE: Transformers in IMAX. Can't remember.

2. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING? The Best of Saki, Better (Atul Gawande), Audacity of Hope (Obama), The Veteran (Forsyth) are my current assortment pickles in my staple of textbooks. Dreams from my father (Obama), Classic Feynman, The Boy with Striped Pyjamas.

3. FAVORITE BOARD GAME? Monopoly. Best played when no one is sure of the rules and there is at least one newbie. The first time I felt empathy for Don Corleone.

4. FAVORITE MAGAZINE? Do Journals count?

5. FAVORITE SMELLS? Onam, Christmas & Easter kitchens.

6. FAVORITE SOUND? Bach. Her voice.

7. WORST FEELING IN THE WORLD? Going to sleep without doing something that needs to be done.

8. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU THINK OF WHEN YOU WAKE? Thank you, God.

9. FAVORITE FAST FOOD PLACE? Kitchen with Amma in situ on a weekend afternoon.

10. FUTURE CHILD'S NAME? I don't know. It doesn't matter.

11. FINISH THIS STATEMENT. "IF I HAD A LOT OF MONEY I’D...? Put it in many safe investments.

12. DO YOU DRIVE FAST? Occasionally. (i.e. on the occasions that I drive)

13. DO YOU SLEEP WITH A STUFFED ANIMAL? Nope

14. STORMS-COOL OR SCARY? Cool until the electricity goes off. Amazing sound effects afterwards.

15. WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CAR? No car.

16. FAVORITE DRINK? Lemon juice. Water

17. FINISH THIS STATEMENT, "IF I HAD THE TIME I WOULD - make music, read more, spent

18. DO YOU EAT THE STEMS ON BROCCOLI? Yes.

19. IF YOU COULD DYE YOUR HAIR ANY COLOUR, WHAT WOULD BE YOUR CHOICE? Black

20. NAME ALL THE DIFFERENT CITIES/TOWNS YOU HAVE LIVED IN. Trivandrum.

21. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH? I like watching any sport where the best are in form.

22. ONE NICE THING ABOUT THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU. She's a mother.

23. WHAT'S UNDER YOUR BED? Things I need but I can't find.

24. WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE BORN AS YOURSELF AGAIN? Yes

25. MORNING PERSON, OR NIGHT OWL? Morning. Night.

26. OVER EASY, OR SUNNY SIDE UP? Omelette.

27. FAVORITE PLACE TO RELAX? Between a pair of headphones playing Bach. Wherever I can talk to the best people I know.

28. FAVORITE PIE? easter appam

29. FAVORITE ICE CREAM FLAVOR? Mango, lychee. Not a huge fan of ice creams.

30. OF ALL THE PEOPLE YOU TAGGED THIS TO, WHO'S MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND FIRST?

Adoreable Pancreas
Hope and Love
Sarah

I'm pretty sure you guys have been tagged already.

Kala kala coca cola kolamayi!

2008-02-17T13:22:00.005Z

കളകളമിളകുമൊരരുവിയിലലകളിലൊരുകുളിരൊരുകുളകം,
കരളിലുമലരിതളുദിരുമൊരളികുലമിളകിയചുരുലളകം!

kaLakaLamiLakumoraruviyilalakaLilorukuLirorukuLakam, karaLilumalarithaLudirumoraLikulamiLakiyachurulaLakam!

Does anyone know who wrote those lines and the rest of the verse, if it is indeed from a poem?

Naad-algia

2008-02-12T22:54:00.004Z

When I read Jiby's take on blogging, I was reminded of the stimuli behind the creation of this blog. At a time when I felt acutely stressed for the first time as it wrapped around me like a bell jar vacuum, at a time when the desired outcome was solely square within my reach, I alt-tabbed to searches on things close to my heart to assuage whatever -algia was tearing me inside. Link after link, hungry for information, I pored over every word and punctuation and even the html sources in some cases, to try and precipitate from the amalgam of bloggers' thoughts and memories a smelling salt of sorts which would jolt me back to a past I had left behind.

Reading through the posts of a network of core bloggers, I found incredible solace and relished drowning in the memories that came flooding back. I wish to forget everything else of those few days save for those blogs I read. After that trying time, I began to regularly follow those five or so blogs and now that list has grown to around thirty. Whether they were anecdotes hanging onto the pallu of the recipes posted, or Pinteresque surreal humour fused into tales of appachans and muthashis of yore braving technology and culture in the new century, or picturesque word paintings of childhoods and college years at a time when paisa coins were actually worth something - at least enough to buy narangamuttayi or a chaya, or impassioned and reasoned pleas for reform of unfairness and injustice still endemic in the social and cultural milieux, or just valippu scenes from the mill of daily routine still tickling the spot and eliciting giggles years later; I savour each word with a fervour some might call homesickness or nostalgia and some others might cynically mutter "Mutathe mullake manamilla".

If at least to add my share to those tiny portions of life (real, imagined or exaggerated) spewing forth into the blogosphere, I started this blog. I, the entity which precipitates out from the stories and thoughts in the posts, am slowly being created with each post out there. My main motivation is enjoying the reminscences and being party to moulding life into prose... ordinary lives, but saddled with meaning: a personal meaning conveyed through each of a blogger's posts, that often gets lost otherwise in the thick of surviving the day.

Witty Nambiar

2008-02-09T17:46:00.000Z

Kunchan Nambiar is my favourite Malayalam poet. My first encounter with Nambiar was an excerpt from his 'Kalyanasaugandhikam' in our Malayala Padavali which made me just laugh when I read it aloud:

Nokkeda nammude margey kidakkunna, Markada neeyangu mari kida sheda.

This roughly translates to

'Yo! Look at this monkey blocking our way. Hey, you monkey! Find somewhere else to lie, darn it!

Bhima, the muscle-man of the five Pandava brothers is enraged to find Hanuman, the mischievous monkey god, lying in front of their way in the forest. Nambiar gives vent to Bhima's indignance and rage in such a witty way much like "Yo mama!" jokes, at least in my imagination.

His poetry has a percussive quality which was necessary for the thullal (acting and dancing) accompanying the recitation. I can imagine him rapping away if he lived in the 21st century; a master freestylist taking on B-Rabbit or entertaining the crowds on Whose line is it anyway? His wit and satire would fit right in Have I Got News for You? or The Daily Show or The Colbert Report; I find it odd to think of him as a contemporary of Bach and Mozart.

Since I couldn't find any archives of his poetry, I've decided to start one at mullapoombodi.blogspot.com. My only source of Nambiar is an old publication of Kiratham which I've started on. You are more than welcome to contribute to it. I recommend Varamozhi text editor which will convert your typewritten manglish e.g. kiraatham into Malayalam font e.g. കിരാതം.

Salt - ONV Kurup

2008-02-05T01:02:00.000Z

ഉപ്പ്

പ്ലാവില കോട്ടിയ കുമ്പിളില്‍ തുമ്പതന്‍-
പൂവുപോലിത്തിരിയുപ്പുതരിയെടു‌-
ത്താവിപാറുന്ന പൊടിയരിക്കഞ്ഞിയില്‍
തൂവി പതുക്കെപ്പറയുന്നു മുത്തശ്ശി:
"ഉപ്പുചേര്‍ത്താലേ രുചിയുള്ളു! കഞ്ഞിയില്‍
ഉപ്പുതരിവീണലിഞ്ഞു മറഞ്ഞുപോം-
മട്ടിലെന്നുണ്ണി! നിന്‍ മുത്തശ്ശിയും നിന്ന-
നില്പിലൊരുനാള്‍ മറഞ്ഞുപോം! എങ്കിലും,
നിന്നിലെയുപ്പായിരിക്കുമേ മുത്തശ്ശി-
യെന്നും! എന്നുണ്ണിയെവിട്ടെങ്ങുപോകുവാന്‍!..."

ചില്ലുപാത്രത്തിലിരുന്നു ചിരിക്കുന്നു
നല്ല കറിയുപ്പ് തീന്‍മേശമേല്‍; കടല്‍-
വെള്ളത്തില്‍നിന്നും കറിയുപ്പു വാറ്റുന്നു-
വെന്ന വിജ്ഞാനപ്പനയോലയില്‍ കൊത്തി
എന്‍റെ നാവിന്നുരം വായ്പിച്ചു പണ്ടു ഞാന്‍!
പിന്നെയൊരുനാള്‍ കടല്‍കണ്ടു ഞാന്‍! വെറും
മണ്ണില്‍ കിടന്നുരുളുന്ന, കാണാതായ
തന്‍ കുഞ്ഞിനെയോര്‍ത്തു നെഞ്ഞുചുരന്നപാല്‍
എങ്ങും നിലയ്ക്കാതൊഴുകിപ്പരന്നതില്‍
മുങ്ങിമരിക്കുന്നൊരമ്മയെക്കണ്ടു ഞാന്‍!

Salt

In a jackfruit leaf a few grains of salt she takes.
Tipping them into the steaming, boiling rice flakes
Grandmother says, "There's taste only if you add Salt.
Salt melts and fades into the essence of this food.
Your grandmother too will fade, but I will always
Be the salt within you. My child I won't leave you..."

Refined, resting on the table in a glass pot,
Salt is laughing. I had learnt how to make, by rote,
Salt from seawater. Then one day I saw the sea.
Rolling in the bare sands, thinking of her lost progeny,
Milk gushing flowing and spreading without pooling,
There I did see her: a mother drowning, dying.

Reminders
There are many pages to read to be reminded on the curses of salt, be it through NEJM, Coleridge, plain old story-telling and now ubiquitously: packaged food. So when I came to read this poem again, I was reminded of ONV's take on the subject which in turn reminded me of the kitchen where Ammachi used to be queen and the dining table where Appooppan used to be king. Only he dared sprinkle the salt water kept on the dining table. It also reminded me of the priest sneaking in his favourite suvishesham Sunday after Sunday.

A loose translation with some semblance to the original by way of meaning and metre, though not so much original imagery, has been attempted. Please suggest improvements or corrections. Also listen to the great ONV himself reciting his composition. The hyperlinks in the poem are some pictures whose memories the text evoked.

Flaw in my Find

2008-01-31T21:30:00.000Z

Fawning Lee Fong filleting,
Feigning feminine feelings,
Failing, Flailing feline flees falling:
'Falgunante farya farichu foyi, fayya!'

I was half-awake, paying no heed to the alarm when I was tickled by the thought of the fleeing falling feline feigning feminine feelings, fawning over Lee Fong filleting. Perhaps a side-effect of having read a meaning-twister.

Rules of Prayer

2008-01-30T18:34:00.001Z

"I shouldn't be coming to you, just when I need help." As I was reading those lines, I was struck by how similarly or differently people talked to God. It reminded me of my own idiosyncrasies when talking to God.

Heard of the butterfly effect? When a butterfly flutters its delicate wings in the depths of the Amazon, it may set off a typhoon in Japan. Events are preceded and are the sum of a countless number of variables which at first glance will have absolutely nothing to do with the final product. In my zany little mind, this forms the basis of my explanation of the power of prayer.

God is like a chess player playing against himself in the park, having all the fun with the infinite number of pieces and infinite number of moves. We couldn't even begin to fathom the grandiose nature of such a game. But wait, suppose each of the infinite number of pieces starts asking Him where they would like to be placed in the next move, or 12 moves ahead or 47 moves ahead. He must have a hard time answering each and all requests while abiding by the rules of the game (the laws of physics which we have yet to figure out)?

So, I used to pray for only 3 things every night. (I figured out 3 must be limit as all the stories I read had 3 wishes and no more) By the way these three did not include the default requests like taking care of my family or make them happy. As each prayer was answered I replaced it with another one. Usually it takes a few months to years for them to be answered. It was a year ago that a 13-year old prayer was answered. It was only last month that a 1-week old prayer was fulfilled.

When the lights go out, I sit up and make sure that my fingers are together in the midline, my back is straight, my eyes are closed, my mind is clear and I am relaxed. Then I speak.

Thank you for everything. Thank you especially for doing ___ or not doing ___.
I'm sorry for ___ and I will try to ___.
Please take care of everyone, my friends and family (and a stranger I met that day.)
Then I list my 3 things.

After that I make the sign of the cross making sure that my fingers touch the exact spot or I repeat it until I do.

Then God will take into account that billions of requests, process it and make his moves accordingly. Sometimes it's not obvious. At others, it is very obvious. Of course, I also had to do my part and get as close to the position I want to be in and He will figure out the rest. Logically (ahah) it therefore didn't make sense to pray after any exams as the moves were already made. But I didn't labour the logic with Ammachi when she said to pray hard for my results.

"Ammachi, pakshe exam kazhinjittu pradhichittu karyamilla, athinu mumbayirunnu pradhikendethu--" (Ammachi, there's no point in praying after the exams. You should have prayed before the exams-"

"Appol nee pareekshakku mumbum pradhichille!?" (So you didn't pray even before the exams?!

It was after I spent a summer almost 13 years ago, reading the Good News Bible (the one with the really thin pages) that I made up these routine. Afterwards, I did not find much meaning in going to mass or saying the rosary as a means of prayer. For me, God was everywhere. It didn't make sense to have sculptures and pictures and the customary kissing of the cross at Easter and of the baby Jesus model in crib at Christmas. It always reminds me of the broken tablets when Moses came down from the mountain and found his people worshipping the golden calf.

That same summer I read the Rajagopalachari Mahabarata and Ramayana. It was really the stories in both the Christian and Hindu scriptures that prompted me to read them. But it was only after my uncle gave me Gandhi's Experiments with Truth bought for 10 rupees at a book fair in Kanakakunnu Palace that these stories and teachings were put in perspective.

We also had a subject called "Moral Studies" in school. What I didn't particularly like was that they split the class into Christians who would read Bible stories while the others would be taught generic morals in Moral Studies. I used to read the stories in my friend's textbook, all about good deeds being rewarded and baddies being humbled or punished. Later on in secondary school, I had a great many discussions with friends from all corners of the world about religion where my ignorance would show. Other than the mention of Zoroastrianism or Jewish holidays in the stale brown pages of quiz books, it wasn't until high school that I read up about the world religions.

What confused me then were the different breeds of Christians. We were a particular breed of Catholics - ones that were seen making the sign of the cross when passing a church, saying the rosary every day, going to Sunday school, having prayer meetings, having appam and stew on Easter, making wine during Christmas and greeting priests with "Eesho mishihayikku sthuthiyayirikkatte." (Praise Jesus our saviour.) and returning the greeting with "Eppozhum eppozhum sthuthiyayirikkatte" (Let us always praise Him.) I had no reason to think that not all Christians were Catholics, until I started meeting distant relations which were Jacobites, Marthomites, Knanayas and a million others. It was then explained that there were us Catholics and all other Christians were Protestants.

But what really bamboozled me were the subspecies of Catholics within our family - like Latin Catholics, Syrian Catholics, Orthodox and even Jacobite Syrian - I'm sure there are more. So I found it funny later when I started meeting people describing their ancestry as being "half-black, half-Chinese, half-Indian, half-Latino," etc..as I thought back to similar conversations in the family talking about "half Jacobite or half Syrian and half Latin.."

I can imagine a confoosed Malayalee Christiani at the US airport..

"I'm sorry, sir but there's no option for part-Syrian, part-Latino, part-Roman."

Kannan thumbi - Kakkothi kavile appooppan thaadikal (1988)

2008-01-30T14:39:00.000Z

As way leads on to way...

I was reading the comments at eljo when one of the commenters brought up Revathy and her little brother being snatched away in a movie. It reminded me of a movie whose name I eventually dredged up from Google which led me to the youtube video of the song Kannan thumbi. Memories of yesteryear came flooding back I listened to the song with a brimming heart.

Kakkothi kavile appooppan thaadikal was one of those movies where "..the sufferings of the protagonist depicted on screen and the climax of the movie were too tragic for me to watch this movie more than once." It was up for grabs briefly on the malayalam movie streaming sites but I missed the opportunity to watch it again after 15 years. But I have listened to the song umpteen times in the last few days to make an arrangement for piano.

You have the main voice, the bass guitar, flute, violins and synthesiser parts in those three pages. What could be really fun is playing it with two others, one on either side of you playing the main voice. Enjoy this piece as I did : )

Devadaru poothu

2008-01-26T13:11:00.001Z

Another week and another song... one introduced to me by Sarah (see comments on a previous post). I'm sure it is a favourite song for many people as it is for me now that I have listened to it. I have no recollection of this movie "Engane nee marakkum". Luckily, MusicIndia was there to help with its impressive library of Malayalam songs.

This song reminded me of the forever humming, Yesudas fan in our family - my father. Thankfully, a steady supply of Yesudas hits actually sung by Yesudas, through the internet, cassettes and CD players have cut down on impromptu live performances in the car (where there is no escape) and in the house.

I have scored this for the piano so I've tried to distinguish voices by transposing them up or down an octave. There are a lot of ornaments in Malayalam music which I found difficult to write down. Please let me know if you can think of good chords.

And for my next song, I'm spoilt for choice. I've just received 40 soundtracks to movies scored by AR Rahman. However, in the last 10 minutes, I was listening to one of the all-time Malayalam classics which is so beautiful in its portrayal of the relationship between two sisters.

Thaliraningoru - Minnaram

2008-01-20T20:09:00.001Z

I rediscovered this gem on Youtube. The longer version has been put off for another day. It brought me back to a Sunday evening when the 'traditional' weekly movie was on Doordarshan.

It was two and half hours of unmitigated concentration on Sunday evenings: the adults holding their steel cups of steaming tea and maybe a vada or two. We, the children would be scootering (being scooters) or carring (being cars - although "kaarathe!" meant to stop making that racket) during the advertising breaks, or humming to the ads of Ujala, Nirma, Chavanyapravashyam and so on.. It was an evening when everyone gathered together. If you stepped out into the street and listened carefully, you could hear the TV sets down the street playing the same ads.

What spoilt the evening were those movies with the sad endings. Us kids would have glistening eyes and would be "mood-off" for the rest of the evening. Although, what irritated me the most were the sad songs, in minor keys/raagas - the TV could not physically handle the high notes of Chitra/Sujatha/Janaki anyway. Sometimes, KSEB would be taking their time changing a fuse or two, and it was then that the entire household would be stumped for things to do.

(Please point out any mistakes as I'm not totally sure about the notes in the last beat of the second bar.)

Aayirum kannumayi - Nokketha doorathu kannum nattu

2008-01-16T20:34:00.005Z

(Please click to enlarge.)

I love this song. So most of last night and today evening was spent trying to put it down on paper. Using the Youtube video, I've done the intro, the main voice and the main instrumental fillers. The bass is mainly arpeggios.

My earliest lessons were on a harmonium playing church songs and nursery rhymes. The mashe (master) wrote down the words in a notebook with the Carnatic notation (sa ri ga) beneath it. Different keys, chords, using the left hand - they were all a complete mystery then.

During the youth festival, we played a medley of popular movie songs. We exhibited our ignorance of harmony as all the instruments on stage played (keyboard, violin, etc.) exactly the same notes, give or take an octave. It didn't matter as the judges didn't have a clue either!

When I reached secondary school, we organised a string orchestra with a keyboard and drums. The pièce de résistance was one of Yanni's hits. That was a memorable night for me :D

I dedicate this to all the music teachers who arrange the songs for their students, be it for youth festivals, competitions or any other school functions. By the way, if you're playing this at your school/college, drop me comment - I'd be happy to know it's useful to someone.

There are a couple of files I'm working on - "ootty.sib" and "thaliraningoru.sib" - any guesses?

3 notes - Ilayaraaja

2008-01-15T23:29:00.000Z

(Please click to enlarge.)

I stumbled across this tune while on orkut. A senior from my alma mater had posted a youtube video of Ilayaraaja's concert 6 months ago, and I've just heard it again today. What makes this special is the spritely syncopation which might make it difficult to sightread it without having heard the music.

With some time, I hope to add more malayalam and tamil sheetmusic of songs from movies from my childhood. Please drop a comment if you've found a mistake or made a better version.

Mozical Journey 2

2008-01-13T23:11:00.001Z

2. Anbendra
This hymnal is set in the reverent tones of C# minor, a key treated with respect in both Carnatic (commonly the Sa in Sa ri ga) and Western classical music (Bach’s (greek Chi) sign of the cross in his C# minor fugue in the first volume of the Well-tempered Klavier) (refer to angeldoc’s posting). The song takes us back to Priya’s past as she grows and matures into the young woman about to face the world: thoughts that are passing through her mind as she sings the hymn. Later on, Prabhudeva (whose purpose is to distract Priya from becoming a nun) sings Strawberry kannae in E major as he describes his view into the window of Priya’s heart. The funny thing is that E major is the complimentary major to C# minor (they share the same key signature). Mischievously, ARR is already match-making in his own musical version of the plot while also revealing the state of minds of the characters. (Thomas has his own motif when he expresses love towards Priya but that theme is never developed. Interestingly, it’s similar to the motif in Alaipayuthey). But enough jumping ahead – back to the song at hand.

The sparse orchestration, with only two timbres heard for most of the song, with a resounding bass note, puts us in the midst of an empty cathedral where Priya sings the song, (a metophor of the emptyness within her calling her to the holy life). I feel that the visuals could have enhanced the feeling of the vast empty space in the cathedral by using very high camera shots. I wish I knew more Tamil so I could give greater appreciation to the lyrics. From what little words and phrases I can make out by their relation to Malayalam, I can sense its poignance.

Sorry about the overenthusiastic titling last time.. I cringe like eating bittergourd with vinegar witih the the sourest green mango while watching parents attempt to dance to a song amidst a sizeable crowd, urging and pointing at me to join in....

A 'Moz'ical j'ARR'ney 1

2008-01-05T00:12:00.000Z

Intro
The opening credits are electric as the title suggests and serve as a prelude to the entertainment to follow. The comical scream is reminiscient of another AR Rahman (ARR) and Prabhudeva (PD) hit Urvashi Urvashi where PD dances in/on a glass bus. The virtually (save for the deep bass) a capella, repetitive, folk-like first half of the intro reminds me of Flower by Moby used in the opening credits for Gone in 60 Seconds. The later part of the intro is the percussion and accordion part of the song Ooo La-la Laa, perhaps giving us a taster of the mischievious madhalam and general malarkey to follow.

1. Poo pookum osai (The sound of flowers blooming)
This sweet melody is matched by the delectable lyrics by Vairamuthu (VR) with the rhyming scheme, making it literally (double pun?) delicious when articulating his poetry. Metaphors, similes, alliterations, onomatopoeias and the entire staple of a high school literature class can be found in his verses. What sets him apart are the ideas he describes, this time the music in nature. Poo pookum osai, athu kelkkathan asai. "Flowers blooming, I desire to hear that".

It also draws comparisons with another of ARR's hit Chinna Chinna Asai again penned by Vairamuthu, also describing nature's whimsy set in Tirunelvelli[1]. Both asais (as they will be henceforth referred to) are set in a majestic D major. The syncopated rhythms skim on this idyllic lake-like harmony: in Roja with a guitar whereas an electric organ is used in Poo pookum. These calypso-esque offbeats chords are developed in the latter with a greater percussive effect as the bass drums play against them. I wonder what it would have sounded like if Minmini were to lend her voice to this track?

In both instances, the music has been created in the context of the story the director wants to tell his audience. They say a picture says a thousand words; here the music tells us about a lifetime, painting a vivid impression of Roja’s and Priya’s lives. ARR uses his palette to paint Priya from a different perspective in another song, which we shall see later on. In Chinna aasai, the life of a young girl, carefree and energetic are one with the abundant beauty of her oore (homeland), a village nestled in the bosom of nature herself. Santosh Sivan puts the spectator in the shoes of Roja who is enamoured by beauty of her home and contrasts with the alien ways of urban life she faces later. In Poo asai, Priya shares the carefree nature of Roja, however she has been brought up in the city.

As I refererred to earlier, the music is subservient to the premise of the story. The harmonic Hey-hey shouts of the college girls as they dance in the hostel and the “Hillthore” music of the mountain folk during girls’ excursion in Minsaarakanavu, or the gypsy fiddle music and the musical chants of farmers in Roja, both serve to recreate the scenic beauty and a glimpse into the respective heroines’ lives as we hit play on our mp3 player 7 days later or 7 years later.

I wonder whether ARR was thinking of C-asai when he composed the other, because both are very similar. Perhaps the similarities reflects his notion of the carefree and appreciatitive nature of girls’ minds. Or maybe he’s discovered that the female heart sings in D major.

(To be continued...)
[1] It has the largest population of buffalos in the state.

Music knocking at the heart

2008-01-04T08:27:00.000Z

#Music - Strawberry kanne from Minsaara kanavu#

I hardly know any Tamil words save for those which sound like Malayalam give or take a syllable or two. And those who've watched a movie on TV will testify to their annoyance at my fast-forwarding through the songs even in Mallu movies, songs which as a rule detract from the plot (perhaps reflecting my voracious appetite for getting through books).

And those songs in the minor keys (those depressing, whining, moaning, mooing, screeching creatures) - let's just say I've forayed into the indoor (sometimes outdoor) sport of remote-control wrestling. But all this was before Rahman, a genius in composition and orchestration.

Minsaara kanavu - I've watched this movie in parts around 50 times already (it's even running now in the background). What's so wonderful about this movie is that I can follow this movie without the audio - the dialogue, music and effects themselves create a beautiful script on their own which add to the whole movie. This is like a dish so perfected that adding any more spices or ingredients would seemingly ruin it, however, Prabhudeva has dispelled that myth through his fresh and exciting dance moves which in themselves exhibit a thorough appreciation of Rahman's music and story line.

Let's say your metaphorical entertainment stomach is stuffed - what do we have here... Vairamuthu's lyrics. Unfortunately, there are no subtitles available online to Tamil movies, so I'm now teaching myself how to read and write Tamil. Little by little, I've been subtitling the movie so I can upload it. If anyone out there understands Tamil, and has a little free time, I would be grateful for some help.

Actually what I really intended to do when I started writing this was to analyse the music by Rahman from a Western classical music standpoint. (I'm afraid by the time I got to learning my first major scale in Carnatic music, I had already given up on it much to my regret. So my extent of Carnatic music knowledge is a huge void between Varaveena and film music.)

#Music - Tamizha tamizha from Roja#

With a little (actually a lot of) help from Sibelius and Keyless I've been trying to recreate Rahman's music. So my next effort will be to look at the music in Minsaara kanavu.

Imagine India

2007-08-15T06:56:00.000+01:00

On the anniversary of our independence, I could not help but feel proud to be born of the greatest nation. Unashamedly, I recounted the ideologies which makes our nation great. But as I read on, in BBC news, I came across Mukul Kesavan's article. He tells me why India is great without any reservations made for ideologies. I would not do it justice by quoting a few words.

Continuing to read, I chanced upon Kuldeep Nayyar's wish for soft borders like the EU. This is a step which I would like to see taken. Save for the last 60 years, we were one people who fought for independence - our toil in blood did not have distinctions in class or religion. I dream of celebrating this historic day together with our brothers and sisters across that white line. It is only a matter of hours that separates our festivities celebrating that same historic event.
India, Pakistan, Bangladesh - all owe it to each other to take care of one another for they are siblings born of one mother. India is in a position to do just that.

So that brings me to this white space now, inspired by the silent tears on reading and reflecting on those articles this morning. I would like to wind up by not following the wisdom I proclaimed earlier:

"If India didn't exist, no-one would have the imagination to invent it." - Mukul Kesavan @ BBC news.

Midsummer night's dream

2007-08-13T05:08:00.000+01:00

Can't sleep tonight. I have around 30 unposted pieces and here is the next one, which will hopefully reverse that trend.

Summer vacations of my childhood were of a quality that evokes the smell of raw mangoes, the scorching terrace baking in the noon sun, eating lunch with my grandfather, salvaging cupboards and shelves for old books, reading from morning till night through meals and groans from other dining table attendees, bouncing a rubber ball off the garage wall for hours, relief from the heat by lying down on the cool mosaic floor, shuttling between the yard and the kitchen with eggs fresh from the chicken coop, green chillies, moringa drumsticks or a coconut from the store room, helping my appoo fix the black coconut sheller blade to shell a coconut, picking off the pink chaambaka, trying to scale the mango tree and jump onto the first floor balcony, shredding the coconut with a chirava for my ammachi, waiting for my kunjamma to return with library books, reciting the rosary in the powercut darkness diffused by the weak emergency light, playing with candles and heated compass points, try to block out the newsreaders voice blaring from the TV at 7 pm sharp, welcome telephone queries from friends relieving the monotone of the precessing ceiling fan from the reign of jambavan (a very well known eon in our household), the noisy rain drumming rhythms on any surface it meets - much like my fingers (much to the annoyance of family elders), a telephone ringing couple of doors down the road, the gentle screeches of the insect nation singing me lullaby as I drift into a heavy slumber...sweet dreams.

LMAAN

2007-07-02T03:34:00.000+01:00

What do you want? (She asked with a tilt of the head and a raise of her brow.)

Hi, I want to go into that room. (I pointed to area where the blue door was just peeking through the plaster of people lining in front of it, listening to a health and safety talk.)

There's no one there.

That's ok. I can work in there.

But there's no one there. (She said even more forcefully.)

It's alright. I just want to use the computers.

Mr. A is not in there now.

That's fine, he said I can use the room when he's not there.

There's no one in the room!

That's alright, I can go in. He said it's fine. I've met him.

But you can't. There's no one in there.

(I was getting indignant.)

Yes, I know. He told me to go in when there's no one there. I met Mr. A yesterday. He said I could use the computers.

(She was getting irritated. I was going to stand my ground.)

How will you get in?

(Is that a trick question?)

I can open the door... and go in.

Have you got the keys? It's locked!

Oh I see.

Sorry- (she realised that I just understood the meaning of "There's no in there".)

Long-winded much ado about nothing.

Duel

2007-07-02T02:53:00.000+01:00

So here I was, relieved to find one seat in the furthest carriage on the busiest train of the week - the first train after peak time fares. It was facing the front, and there was only a eerkil-like woman sitting on the other side of the table - no nausea and lots of leg space.. Placing my snacks on the table, I slid into the seat.

...straight into her trap. She extended her eerkil-like legs to the aisle. I could not extend my legs in either direction. Her bag was on the floor, a man was sitting near the window. She was even sliding down her seat to lengthen her reach! I was trapped.

These tricks of limiting my large frame in a tiny area were already well practised by my sister - so I knew this eerkil will start aching in those train seats without proper support. I started reading my book.

Then I started munching on my snacks - she is beginning to squirm. I was reading and eating my sandwich and enjoying the view of the countryside as it floated by.

She moved.

I extended my knees like a jack-in-the-box. Haha!

Journey

2007-06-06T09:04:00.000+01:00

Run, Rubberman and jump. Spring off the tree-tops and dance on the electric poles, Bounce off the wires-

That was my long-car-journey game, when I'm relegated to the back-seat, without any say in the choice of music. The Rubberman, who can run along with the car, as fast as my eyes could dart across the road-side posts. He is an acrobat and escape artist, a Houdini-meets-the-trapeze. He would perform for me on the electric poles, or on the trees, the buildings, jumping on and off the cars and trucks like Jackie Chan.

Good-bye

2007-06-06T08:49:00.000+01:00

He slapped me on the face and gave me a pinch on the cheek. My eyes were filling up. I couldn't show him that.

Nanniyi paddikkanam. Appayum Ammayeyum annusarikkanam. Ninte pengale kathu nokkikonum. Nee allathe avalke ara ullathu. Appayum ammayum officil pokumbol, neeyanu avale nokkendathu. Nannayi varum. Adutha vacationu varan nokkanum.

He pinched me on the arm. I was distraught - I couldn't breathe. I just have to hold on till I get past the entrance. I couldn't show him. Then I noticed his eyes, they were getting red, moist and shiny. I couldn't stand it - I have never seen him so emotional, so vulnerable. He was the strongest person I've ever seen and he has never been sad or soft for anything. And he was on the verge of tears too.

I quickly murmured my assent and give him an umma and move forward into the terminal building. I could feel the heat in my eyes and the cool stream that was flowing down both cheeks. I waited till I was out of sight from the entrance before I wiped my eyes.

Adi kolli

2007-06-06T08:38:00.000+01:00

Nmouse! where are you?

I was upstairs, raiding the forbidden cupboard. full of books, novels, story books. In those houses, there were storage spaces near the ceiling to put in suitcases and boxes.

He's coming upstairs.

I remove all signs of the cupboard being opened and climb up on the table, using the window grill and heave myself onto the luggage space. I fold myself, it's a tight squeeze. He's opening the door.

NMouse!

I try not to laugh. He's right in front of me. I always used to wonder how the people in movies always missed a person hiding behind an open door. If he catches me not answering when I'm right there behind him, I'm dead for sure.

He goes into the bathroom.

Nmouse! veruthe adi kollatharuthe!

It's too much, I have to laugh.

He turns and closes the door. I chuckle and giggle. I'm going to be a detective, and a spy, like Jupiter Jones in The Three Investigators.

I still wonder how I managed to fit into that small space, barely fitting two suitcases.

Nee evide ayirunnu! Villichal vilikekkanam! (Where were you! Why didn't you answer me!)

Marry and love thy Flavia

2007-06-06T07:13:00.001+01:00

I was helping my sister out with her English homework, discussing Shylock. And as way leads on to way, I ended up with the quote of "No man is an island.." I had the sudden urge to read the whole thing. So I went to the library and took out The Complete Works of John Donne and started reading it on the way back.

It was then I came across "The Anagram". Intriguing! Poetry puzzle?

Marry, and love thy Flavia, for she
Hath all things, whereby others beauteous be;
For, though her eyes be small, her mouth is great;
Though they be ivory, yet her teeth be jet;
Though they be dim, yet she is light enough;
And though her harsh hair fall, her skin is tough;
What though her cheeks be yellow, her hair's red,
Give her thine, and she hath a maidenhead.

Though all her parts be not in th' usual place,
She hath yet an anagram of a good face.

I was laughing my heart off!

I remember my English teacher praising Donne's virtues, the timeless words. We didn't discuss the "romantic" side of Donne, possibly because the analysis of the fairly conservative Romeo & Juliet did set off pesky giggling teenagers teetering at the cliffs of puberty.

Tilaka

2007-06-05T21:50:00.000+01:00

I was 4 or 5 when this happened.

"Wake up, go bathe (poyi kullike)."

It was still pitch black outside. It was the quietest I'd ever known, save for the noisy insects 'kee-ing' outside.

"I'll keep your clothes ironed on the ironing board (a table with extra layers of bed-sheets). You can go upstairs and take a shower. "

I liked taking a bath in the guest room upstairs. I sat up and manoeuvred myself out from between my cousins, wincing as my well-wrapped (pothachumoodi kiddanna) feet touched the cold mosaic floor.

The sole street-lamp cast its feeble white light, through the misted windows, casting contorted butterfly shadows of the window grill on the furniture in the living room. Amma was ironing rummaging through shelf (wardrobe). I trotted upstairs and into the bathroom.

Shivering cold. Where are my shirt and nickers (shorts)? I peeped out from the bathroom, and found the nickers. Amma must be ironing the shirt. I switched off the lights before leaving the room and navigated downstairs in the dark - I know my home like the back of my hand.

5 steps down. Landing. 9 steps down. 1big step and 1 small step.

The green polo shirt was laid out on the table. Amma is not there. Gingerly, I grasp the iron and laid it down on the shirt. I wanted to iron my shirt, it's satisfying to watch the creases disappear and making the surface as smooth as you can. I moved it up and down-

It's gone too far. I felt the rim slide across my chest held tight against the table.

It was hot. Very hot. VERY, very hot. I try to blow away the heat and the pain. I can't stand the pain, the burning pain. I can't make a sound. If I do, I'll get in trouble, big trouble for ironing without permission. I don't like getting scolded, especially in the morning, during the holidays. I was going to keep quiet no matter what.

Amma is coming back with some of her clothes. I slid my T-shirt on without letting it touch the raw burn. It's very hot. Luckily, I pulled off my nonchalant face and made it past her to the settee (sofa) where I could nurse my single horizontal tilaka branded on my chest. I blew on it. I dripped water on it. I opened the fridge and bared my chest to it - the freezer compartment was too high.

"Stop playing with the fridge. Drink the milk, it's on the table. "

I must have missed my prayers in the morning or did something bad. God is repaying me. It's going to be a long and tortuous train journey on the Venad.

Juvenile Rituals

2007-06-05T19:28:00.000+01:00

"Ennikeda!"

"5 minutes koode please, ammachi!"

"Samayam ethrayayennariyo! Chakka pothane pole kiddunnurangunnu!"

"Please, please, please..."

She goes into the kitchen. I go back to sleep.

"DA! ENNIKEDA!"

A rolled-up newspaper is used to swat me.

"Appooppa please, 5 minutes, please" I murmur and go back to sleep.

I feel a sharp pain on my on my arm, as he effortlessly rolls my skin between his thumb and index finger - I am awake, fully.

Sitting up, I pray, thank you. Going to the toilet, I find my toothbrush displaced from its careful perch, the bristles facing down on the ledge. Sshho! Needs an extra wash.

"Prathicho? Engil dha paalu kuddike. njan nannayi panchara ittittunde."

I grimace. She sees it.

"Angu vallichu kudicha mathi, valiya pose kannikunnu (!)"
I manouevre the cup and blow away the top layer.

"Athinu oru kuyyappavumilla. Dha, paada mati."

It's 8.05.

I don't want this much. Just a little.
Just eat it.

The bus gets there by 8.15. I run up the slope, eyes fixed on the junction up ahead, ears pricked for the sound of the groaning of a bus. Perhaps it knows that

9.00
O God, our Lord and Creator, help us to be good and learn our lessons well. Teach us to know You and ourselves rightly.
Goood morning, maadum.

10.35 Interval. I never have snacks.
10.45 First bell
10.50 Second bell

12.10 Lunch break.

3.30Thank you Lord for all your..

Grab the pandaaram (school bag) and get the bus home.

Tea - much as I try to eat two pieces banana fritters in half an hour to cover an episode of what ever is on TV, they're gobbled up before the first set of ads in 5 minutes.

5.30/6 - Start by doing the work I didn't like.

8.00 - Supper - again see tea-time strategy.

9.30 - Read myself to sleep.

After lights out - Thanks a lot, God.

The boundaries of my day were marked by prayer.

Responsibilities, rights and privileges

2007-06-05T17:44:00.001+01:00

Eve-teasing, Plastic litter, Blogging, Journalism and media responsibility, Universal, comprehensive, free healthcare: is it possible for 1,800,000,000 people by 2050?, Domestic violence, Ageing parents, old age homes, Marriage, arranged marriages, Women's rights, Racism, bigotry, prejudices, Parental responsibilities, Doctor-patient relationship and patient autonomy, School's/Teacher's responsibilities, Next generation of Kerala youths, Malayalam language, Internet in Kerala, Criticism/Satire of political, religous and cultural issues, Comedy programmes on TV, Anti-privacy laws coming soon?, Alcohol, Smoking, Sex, Drugs.

What does an Indian, a Keralite, a Malayalee think about these issues? I want to find out what I think about them (after my exam - this is just another procrastination deed.) During the last couple of days, I've pretty much read all the archives of these bloggers which gave me the inspiration for taking this on: angel-doc, jiby216, malaysianincanada, poomanam, thanurambles.
Other excellent procrastination sites covered during this time: wikimapia.org, ted.com, def poetry slam videos on youtube, rives.