Friday, December 12, 2008

The Season is back!!!!!! .....on t lighter side

It was an awesome concert.A very fine artist. Amazing brigas, excellent bhava and quite an example of what you'd call a perfect kutcheri. Well these are nothing special in his concerts..

What struck my attention were two kids sitting in front of me-restless and full of enthusiasm about things going around....all except the concert, I mean the music part of it. With so much life around who'd even bother about the music?!

Firstly if you have take note of the updates in the ethnic boutiques of the city, the most effective way is to check out the sea of people pouring into the music halls during the season- right from shimmering jewelry to crisp terracotta or wood ones, flaunty Konjeevaram zaris to gentle threaded Bengal cottons and of course the latest creations of the handy loomers. You are sure to walk back home pretty well informed….at least visually.

For a naive audience, it’s pretty hard to grasp what exactly the artists are trying to do before the concert formally begins, thanks to the unset pitches and the word interrupted musical microphone testings.

I was imagining how it would feel to detach oneself from the music of the concert and witness the few hours....

Shhh.............................

Let’s mute the audio of this kutcheri.

The concert begins with vigorous thaalams, whispers of ragas 'n composers midst the audience, silent thereafter but for an occasional 'tch tch tch' or 'besh' exclaimed out excitement. A keen 'Thamburaist' who stares constantly either at the singer or at the floor with a gentle nod set on his head.

The audience can be viewed as a bunch of people responding to some unknown stimulus with shaking heads.. at times too vigorous to be termed 'head bangs' (an ecstatic response set to the beat, bhava and the person's own emotions aroused by the song)
Well.... a kid with a muted audio would obviously find a huge mass of shaking black and white heads extremely funny!

Regular concert goers would easily identify the beginning of heavy or main pieces with the emergence of one or two droopy eyelids or even a few dozing heads(hey only a person who heartily enjoys a piece of music can sleep in its sound)

The kid finds the stage occupier plunging into weird actions... an assortment of too many daily life fractions...say... the repeated stretching of a rubber band, a few boxers punches, toasts being buttered, gentle picking flowers, careful veggie chopping, making idli batter and too many others interspersed with thaalams ,which god knows how they pick midst so many animations!
All these are suited with appropriate (even inappropriate) caricaturish facial expressions, which quite remind the kid of the Calvin and Hobbes comic. The NRI style french beards with the mobile hairdo of the musicians, especially the percussionists make significance to the kid.

The thukkadas are characterized by waking up heads and brightening faces of those who were till then peacefully dozing and a few excited compliments about the 'janaranjaga'ity of the singer's choices. The restless 'shall we leave?' or 'sigh' expressions with heads looking around for familiar faces, is the typical response to a mangalam.

By now the kid begins to whiff the coffee aroma that comes blended with the delicious gheeish fragrance of sambhar from the canteen....

...Wow!! What a concert!!

PS: I myself am a concert freak...who goes about with enough head bangs...

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Pibare Ramarasam....

Pibare rama rasam rasane.......

This song has been running in my mind for quite some days(inclusive of nights). I found something soul stirring about this song.Not any singer's voice, nor just the music....Something beyond.Something to do with what the poet is trying to convey.It has been horripilating me.

On being dug further,with claims that it is just another song in praise of lord Rama and mentions that it was rather absurd as Ramarasam sounded like a 'rasam' with Rama boiling in it or even mind picture of Rama being squeezed to get some juice and all of us raising a toast.

Weird.....

This was when I began to ponder... consider this....the literal meaning of the word 'Raama',unlike the conventional 'Raamaa' connotation, is ' the beauty' 'n this might ve been the reason behind the lord's depiction. Think of rama now....

Rama...The abstract notion of beauty.Beauty that is omnipresent....Beauty that is omnipotent...that is dark and bright....that is ugly and beautiful....that is day and night....that is static and dynamic...that exists in poles and in all thats between....

Beauty that is Divine...

Look at the Depiction of Kaali.. a dark woman in a devilish form clad in skin and bones and whatever we are made of. The beauty of existence. Kaali, the dark dynamic unseen soul clad in all that makes a being....the blood,the skin,the bones,the hairs the flesh....scary! but how is that the human is so beautiful??

Look at Shivam .... the matter....the fair macho man clad in animal skin and snakes with matted locks of hair, ashes the final remnants smeared all over.....ashes the final remnants of these temporary dwellings called bodies......the destiny....

This fear is joyful....

Gowri the light with Shyamala the dark...

In the gentle rustle of handsome trees, in every drop of quenching waters,in every little juicy fruit, in every move of the household beings, in every pain, in every joy,in every little drop of tear,in every hearty smile,in the still and the dynamic, in presence, in absence,in every speck of this binary world.......Rama the beautiful

It is this Beauty that vanishes the painful line of fear between birth and death.

Janana marana bhaya shoka vidhooram

It is this Beauty that is the essence of all that has ever been sung.

Sakala shaastra nigama aagama saaram

It is this Beauty that is the song in the Aashrama and has been drunk by the spiritual mouths of Sages who have tasted Eternity......

This,I suppose,should have been the Beauty that creation intended.

The Existence...

The Oneness....

Rasane Pibare Raama rasam
I wanted a space... a space to become the kid that i was and still am, but under the mask of adult that has been thrust upon be in a very uncanny manner.

Memories flash past as i think of those days when there used to be pencil that was sharpened under the careful scrutiny of my Grandma to be neither too sharp nor too blunt and a white paper that was tinted a gentle yellow by the artistic hands of time preserved specially for some of my early alphabets.

It was so much fun to be little enough to sit inside the elder sibling's lunch basket and be the naughtiest child of the home.

The happy rough texture of the huge door that was incidentally rather accidentally a brown dark enough for old chalk's half white to be visible in it even after umpteen erases with the soft old bit of Grandma's saree, that would welcome any visitor with pictures, rather caricatures of all the inmates of the house accompanied by labellings in haphazard letters which were legible enough only for an interested person.

Fights for the only red chair in the class, a tantrum and cry after spilling dad's coffee on my self which i was pacified for rather than being scolded,comfortable short naps midst an old n soft saree or a dhoti that gently smells of naphthalene and sandal,early morning's DD Vandhe matharam followed by a nice popeye show boop..boop.. .......

So much that the kid in me wants to scribble with the Grandma's pencil on the same yellow white paper, far from the critique eye of the world.

To see things just the way i want to and scribble whatever comes by.....

I wanted a space.... and this is it .....Scribbles :D