Cloistered Souls

I can't get Dharavi out of my mind.

In May 2004, I was called for a written test/interview by many IITs, including IIT Powai. Since a classmate of mine had also got a call from IIT Powai, we decided to make the journey together. He proposed that we land in his relatives' house in Mumbai and then decide whether to stay there or at IIT itself. Accordingly, we (my friend was accompanied by his father) landed in Mumbai the morning before the day of the test.

I knew that my friend's family was not very well-off, but I wasn't prepared for the fact that his relatives lived in Dharavi. It would be hypocrisy to deny that I had many apprehensions about going there - on the journey, I made many feeble attempts to propose going directly to IIT instead. In the end, I had to go along with them after all, to avoid being rude.

The first thing that struck me when we turned the corner leading upto Dharavi was the smell. The place smelt of garbage strewn liberally on the streets. Of course, in India, garbage on the streets is not uncommon by any stretch of imagination. Despite this, that smell made me feel a little sick. We then entered the residential parts of Dharavi.


The term "residential" understates things a little. The density of residential quarters in that area was unlike anything I had ever seen before. Buildings were long, unbroken structures separated by streets (more like paths), some of which were so narrow that only two cyclists could pass through at the same time (I shudder to think of the effects of a fire in some of these places - or a flood). Liquids ran continually along the paths and in the open gutters by the side - waste water with some phenyl added, I think, to reduce the probability of disease spreading.

We needed to find out where my friend's relatives stayed (there didn't seem to be any visible door numbers or street names) and asked a shopkeeper. The mention of a name was enough - a cheerful young man walked with us to the place, without us asking him. Everyone seemed to know everyone else and eager to help.

I expected the buildings to be made out of thatch, but was suprised to find that many were constructed out of concrete, with metal roofing sheets. These were also used innovatively to create walls and attics within the buildings. The living portions were themselves less than a couple of hundred square feet in area. Within this small area, a kitchen and a living room had been carved out, with the living room doubling up as a bedroom. The bathroom was a tiny cubicle of about five feet by four, with a sliding door instead of one that opened outwards - another innovation to conserve space.

A further surprise was the presence of a colour television, washing machine and a telephone within those cramped quarters. Evidently, these were not people who lived in poverty. Our hosts were a family of three - parents and a daughter about 20 years old. The father worked in something like a clerical position, while the daughter was doing a BSc in Computer Science. They were extremely nice people, who insisted on us having breakfast with them (and stuffed me with idlis till I nearly stopped breathing). What I liked most about them was that while they seemed a little apologetic about the living conditions, they were in no way ashamed of them.

In the afternoon, we went to IIT, where my friend and I elected to stay. My friend's father went back to his relatives' place. After my admission test, I went to my uncle's place in Chembur. It felt good to be in a place like home again, but I felt no sadness for the people of Dharavi - only admiration.

Salaam, Bombay!

When I went to IIT Powai for my MTech interview last year, I came back without an admit, but feeling inspired and awed by the magnificent city of Bombay. A visit to Dharavi alone was enough to give me an indication of what it means to be a Mumbaikar. When a million people can live in an area of 175 hectares, special bonds develop between them that enable them to face the incredibly poor sanitation, lack of hygiene and the overcrowded accomodation. The feeling that you get in Dharavi is not one of claustrophobia, but one of openness and acceptance. "We are all in this together", the residents seem to say with their actions. "All we've got is each other".

When I read about the terrible floods and the fire at Bombay High, I was terribly saddened, despite finding out that my relatives and friends in the city were all safe. Then I remembered Dharavi. Any place, where people have the kind of spirit I saw there, can take care of itself.

I was not mistaken. Here is an moving and inspiring eyewitness account of the stormy night by an advertising executive who found her way home from her workplace. Whatever the calamity, the gallant Mumbaikars will go on, undaunted, strengthened and heads held higher than ever.

Making A Song And Dance About Things

The song is a much-maligned compenent of the Indian cinematic tradition. Hollywood turns its nose up at the concept while applauding in the same breath even mediocre musicals like Moulin Rouge. It is certainly true that most songs in Indian movies are now more an unnecessary legacy rather than a useful cinematic device. However, it is also to be accepted that a good and relevant song can add a whole new dimension to a movie.

What defines a great song? A fine blend of the music, lyrics, the quality of singing, the picturisation and the way the song fits into the context of the movie. It takes a combination of the director, music composer, lyricist and singer to create and realize the perfect song, one that enhances the narrative in ways that a dialogue cannot. While only a handful of directors seem to understand this concept (most directors seem to prefer item numbers and vulgar dances in exotic foreign locations), there have been a fair number of excellent songs that have been created and used with great skill in Tamil cinema (and certainly in Hindi cinema as well, but that is a topic for another day).

Accordingly, here is an attempt to pick the best of the above. This is my list of the ten greatest songs in Tamil cinema:

(In no particular order)

1.
Song: Paattum Naane, Bhavamum Naane
Film: Thiruvilayaadal
Singer: T M Soundararajan
Music: K V Mahadevan
Lyricist: Kannadasan

When the conceited musician Hemanatha Bhagavathar threatens to enslave the Pandiya kingdom on the strength of a bet with its king, Lord Shiva assumes the role of a woodcutter to quell Bhagavathar's ego. In front of Bhagavathar's house, he sings a song so divine that when the song stops, all of creation ceases to move.

Whatever your religious convictions and opinions of the stereotypically garish Tamil devotional movie, you cannot but be amazed at this brilliant song. TMS was never better, effortlessly convincing the listener that his voice is more divine than that of the supreme Carnatic master, Dr. M. Balamuralikrishna (who sang "Oru Naal Podhuma" for Bhagavathar's character). The brilliant lyrics allow Lord Shiva to tell Bhagavathar in no uncertain terms who the real master is.

"Asaiyum Porulil Isaiyum Naane, (I am the music in all things that move)
Aadum Kalaiyin Naayagan Naane, (I am the king of the art of dance)
Ethilum Iyangum Iyakkamum Naane, (I am the creation inside all creation)
En Isai Ninraal Adangum Ulage! (If my music should stop, the world will come to a standstill!)

(A famous dramatic pause in the song where the seas, birds and wind cease to move)

Naan Asaindhaal Asaiyum Agilamellaame, (If I move, the world moves with me)
Arivaai Manidhaa, Un Aanavam Peridha?" (Learn this, human. Is your ego so great?)

But what takes the song from being merely good to possibly the greatest ever in Tamil cinema is Sivaji Ganesan. Often criticized for overacting, he proves conclusively that only he could have pulled this off in the way he did. In doing so, he creates a Lord Shiva who winks at the viewer, plays every musical instrument so realistically that it doesn't even cross your mind that it's merely an act and conjures up entire characters where all that was needed was a set of faces (my personal favourite is the flautist). The instrumental sequence at the end provides him with an opportunity to exhibit the magnificently diverse histrionic skills he was endowed with. When Marlon Brando said "Sivaji can act the way I can, but I cannot act the way Sivaji can", perhaps it was this aspect he was referring to.

2.

Song: Ponn Ondru Kanden
Film: Padiththaal Mattum Podhumaa?
Singers: T M Soundararajan and P B Sreenivas
Music: M S Viswanathan
Lyricist: Kannadasan

Can a song define a movie? Whe you watch Padithaal Mattum Podhuma, the memory that lingers the most in your mind is not the story or the acting, but Sivaji and Balaji's duet. In just four minutes, Kannadasan explains the past, present and the future of the 150-minute movie in his characteristically simple and beautiful language that possesses numerous subtle implications.

Sure, the picturisation could have been better - two guys faking swimming doesn't do justice to the song. Even that doesn't deprive the song of its rightful place among the greatest.

3.
Song: Senthaazhampoovil Vandhaadum Thendral
Film: Mullum Malarum
Singer: K J Yesudas
Music: Ilayaraaja
Lyricist: Kannadasan

Ho hum. Another Kannadasan song in the list. This is hardly surprising, not because I am a great fan of his, but because his influence on Tamil cinema is perhaps the only topic that Karunanidhi, Jayalalitha, MGR and anyone even remotely associated with Tamil cinema will agree upon. (An illustration: Once, Ilayaraaja had a fight with Kannadasan. Some time later, Ilayaraaja decided to make amends and told his assistant to "fetch the Kavignar (Tamil for poet)". The naive assistant enquired "Which poet?". To which Ilayaraaja reacted by giving the assistant a dressing down and telling him "There is only one Kavignar." Millions of Tamils agreed and Kannadasan is still synonymous with the word Kavignar)

This song is sung during a drive through a picturesque mountain path. The music and singing are special, but Kannadasan's lyrics blow you away. By comparing nature with a woman, the Kavignar brings out a desription of beauty that can only be described as beautiful in itself! Also of interest are the tributes to God, which marked clearly Kannadasan's conversion from being a staunch atheist to a devout Hindu.

4.
Song: Pachai Niramae
Film: Alaipayuthey
Singer: Hariharan with backing vocals by Clinton (not William Jefferson)
Music: A R Rahman
Lyricist: Vairamuthu

The most recent entry in the list. Mani Ratnam is highly regarded in Indian cinema for raising the bar and successfully getting the masses to appreciate better quality of storytelling and a number of relevant social issues. He must also be thanked for redefining the concept of a song and converting it from a liability into an opportunity for experimentation and innovation. Right from the simple elegance of Chinna Chinna Aasai (Choti Si Asha in Hindi) in Roja to the beautiful cinematography in Hey, Goodbye Nanba (Hey, Khuda Hafiz in Hindi) in Aayitha Ezhuthu, a Mani Ratnam song is often instantly recognizable.

He takes this talent to its greatest height in Pachai Niramae. Using Vairamuthu's scintillating lyrics, he weaves a colourful tapestry that leaves the viewer mesmerized.

When Hariharan sings

Alayillaatha Naazhi Vannam (the colour of a waveless lake)
Mugilillaatha Vaanin Vannam (the colour of a cloudless sky)
.....
Ellaam Un Kannil Minnum (All these (blue) colours sparkle in your eyes)

you are lost. Lost between admiration of Hariharan's voice mastery, Vairamuthu's elegant love poetry and the spectacular shot of the heroine in a blue dress in a boat in a blue lake that reflects the blueness of the sky.

5.
Song: Mandram Vantha Thendral
Film: Mounaraagam
Singer: S P Balasubramanian
Music: Ilayaraaja
Lyricist: Vaali

From SPB's anguished, stirring cry at the start of the song, to Ilayaraaja's melodious music and the excellent lyrics which beautifully express Mohan's character's anguish, there is little wrong with this song. The visualization also allows us to catch a glimpse of Mani Ratnam's unique style in its infancy.

Vaali is a talented lyricist often used poorly by filmmakers to churn out numbers like "Muqala Muqabala" in Kaadhalan. In the right hands (in this case, Mani Ratnam's), Vaali can create beauty - this song is a good example.

6.
Song: Ilangaatru Veesudhey
Film: Pithaamagan
Singer: Sriram Parthasarathy and Shreya Ghoshal
Music: Ilayaraaja
Lyricist: Vaali (?)

This one is going to ruffle some feathers for sure :-) I have many points to offer in support of my decision to include this song, however.

The song is one of Ilayaraaja's best efforts in many years, with his trademark flute and violin combined with an assortment of instruments to create a beautiful, earthy sound, perfect for the village scenario of the movie. The lead singers are fresh voices who do an excellent job - particularly Shreya Ghoshal who pulls off some tricky Tamil pronunciation.

An important aspect is Bala's picturisation which draws the viewer into the lives of the charaters being portayed. Finally, there are Surya and Vikram's remarkable facial expressions that convey the essence of their characters without the necessity for a spoken word - they make the visuals speak for themselves.

7.
Song: Poongaatru Pudhidhaanathu
Film: Moondraam Pirai
Singer: K J Yesudas
Music: Ilayaraaja
Lyricist: Kannadasan

This will earn its share of brickbats as well. After all, am I not choosing this song over the infinitely more popular "Kanne Kalaimaane", which was also Kannadasan's last song and a brilliant one at that? Let me attempt a justification.

Firstly, Yesudas' voice is merely sad in Kanne Kalaimaane, while it exhibits both a depth and a variety of emotions in this song. For instance, in the "Maragatha Pillai Mozhi Pesum" line, you can feel the raw pain that Kamalahasan's character is living with. There is joy, sorrow and pain in Kamalahasan's character and in Yesudas's voice - this song brings out each aspect separately for us to appreciate. The lyrics of this song are also brilliantly Kannadasan in their own way, and can hold their own even in comparison with Kanne Kalaimaane.

When you watch the ending of the movie, it is a culmination of events in the movie which really creates the effect on you. This song is perhaps the single largest such factor. The impressions of love and devotion you see from Kamalahasan and the ingenuous love and trust shown by Sridevi are created almost entirely by this song. The scenic visuals, the simple, yet poignant events (Kamalahasan teaching Sridevi to read and write, feeding her, combing her hair) and the realistic expressions from both actors help the viewers empathize with the characters and lay the groundwork for the magnificent ending of the movie itself.

8.
Song: Adho Andha Paravai Pola Vaazha Vendum
Film: Aayirathil Oruvan
Singer: T M Soundararajan
Music: M S Viswanathan
Lyricist: Kannadasan

Whatever one's opinions about MGR's acting abilities (the very existence of which is questioned by some), there can be no doubt that he was and will remain the most towering figure in the history of Tamil cinema (Rajnikanth has tremendous adulation, but I don't see anyone committing suicide if he pops off tomorrow).

I was hard-pressed to choose between this song and "Naan Aanaittaaal" from Engal Veettu Pillai. In the end, this song won for its deeper meaning (the other song was just a popularity vehicle for MGR). A great song about the meaning of freedom is the perfect way to celebrate the liberation of a set of slaves from a tyrannical ruler - which is why the song fits the movie like a glove.

Also a plus is a slim and trim Jayalalitha - who atleast back then, couldn't be accused of having disproportionate assets (sorry, I couldn't resist!).

9.
Song: Sippi Irukkuthu, Muthum Irukkuthu
Film: Varumayin Niram Sivappu
Singer: S P Balasubramanian and S Janaki
Music: M S Viswanathan
Lyricist: Kannadasan

A truly spectacular song which conveys many lovely ideas in its words. The basic premise is simple - Sridevi hums a tune and Kamalahassan, the budding poet, instantaneously composes a lyric to match the tune and sings it to her. What makes the song incredible is the knowledge that Kannadasan actually composed the lyrics in exactly the same fashion - MSV composed a piece of music and Kannadasan wrote lyrics to fit the music instantaneously.

Mayakkam Thanthathu Yaar? Tamizho, amutho... kaviyo? - Who mesmerized you? Was it the beauty of the Tamil language, was it the melody of the song... or was it the poet?

I vote for all three.

10.
Song: Maraindhirundhu Paarkkum Marumam Enna?
Film: Thillaana Mohanaambaal
Singer: P Suseela
Music: K V Mahadevan
Lyrics: Kannadasan

This one belongs to Padmini all the way. Her talent as a classical dancer is showcased throughout the movie and in this song in particular. The chemistry she had with Sivaji Ganesan is there to be seen in her playful glances and veiled taunts and in Sivaji's mesmerized expressions.

What is even more astounding is the way this chemistry is conveyed by the force of suggestion alone. There is no wonder then, that this movie holds eternal appeal for the most conservative of Tamil housewives.


Well, there you have it. There were a few songs which almost made the list, but had to be kept out to accommodate others, possibly due to personal prejudices. In my opinion, these are pretty much at the same level as the ones listed above, and could just as easily find a place in the list.

Chinna Chinna Aasai (Roja) for the phenomenon named A R Rahman that it introduced to Indian Cinema
Nilai Maarinaal (Paava Mannippu) for the brilliantly reflective lyrics
Ponaal Pogattum Poda (Paalum Pazhamum) for becoming a catchphrase to express sorrow and loss in Tamil Nadu
Roja Malare Rajakumari (Veerathirumagan) for the sheer beauty of PBS and P Susheela's voices
Paattu Paada Vaa (Then Nilavu) - For A.M. Raja's voice and style which make the lyrics and Gemini Ganesan's expressions even more enjoyable

And some recent songs worth an honourable mention include:

Ennai Konjam Maattri (Kaakka Kaakka) - who says good songs are not made in today's cinema?
Nyaabagam Varudhe (Autograph) - refer above point. I was delighted when the film won a National award, but when I read that Veer Zara got the exact same award (Best Wholesome Entertainment or something of the sort), I felt really sorry for Cheran.

(Thanks to Rahul for lots of info about old Tamil songs in general and some long discussions where we repeatedly agreed upon Kannadasan's genius :) Also, my apologies to the non-Tamil readers, if any, for the highly localized content)

Aaarghhh!!!

Life is cruel!

She Cries Softly To Herself In The Corner...

This is in reference to my friend Kierthi's recent blog entries 1 and 2, and the related link he posted in one of them.

I felt ashamed to be part of a class of beings capable of such dastardly acts. I kept picturing my mother, my sister and my friends in such a situation - the very thought of it was unbearable.

Why does our society blame the victims? Why do we make the victim undergo more trauma after what they've been through already? Why are crimes against women dealt with leniently? These incidents are not just fodder for trashy Indian movies - thousands of our women go through these every single day.

I remember an incident during my BTech days when I was travelling on a bus with some of my classmates (whom I didn't know very well). A guy standing next to the conductor was talking and laughing rather loudly. I didn't pay much attention to him at first, but I realized something was wrong when a classmate of mine started exchanging angry words with him. I then realized that he had been passing petty comments at my her and her companions. What had prevented me from realizing what was going on in the first place was that the conductor was joining in the fun, laughing with him. I spoke a few hesitating words to add to my classmate's mincing tones and the miscreant got off at the next bus stop.

My classmate, who later became one of my closest friends, stared long and hard at the conductor and got back to her idle chatter, with an air of impregnability surrounding her. The other men in the bus however, just looked at her as they would look at a freak.

Despite all the cynicism surrounding it, we are a indeed a long way from achieving empowerment of women. We have yet to accord them the most fundamental right of all - dignity.

Wish I Was There!

On the 2nd of July, after almost 25 years, Roger Waters, David Gilmour, Richard Wright and Nick Mason put aside their differences to spend 23 quality minutes together on the largest stage in the world. Pink Floyd performed from Hyde Park, London to an estimated worldwide audience of 2 billion(!) as part of the gigantic Live 8 concert to exhort the leaders of the G8 countries to help eradicate the problem of poverty in Africa.





The show lacked the dazzling lights and lasers that epitomised the Pink Floyd concert experience. In contrast, the band kicked off with the benign Breathe from Dark Side Of The Moon. Perhaps as penance for his autocratic attitude, which caused the band to break up, Waters was content to play a subdued bass and leave most of the singing to Gilmour. It was evident however, from the faces of the other three (and particularly Gilmour) that all was not forgiven and forgotten.

Money screamed and wailed into the night - perhaps the only song appropriate to the event.

Money - so they say
Is the root of all evil today.
But if you ask my advice it's no surprise
that they're giving none away.










When the familiar strains of Wish You Were Here started, Waters finally addressed the audience in a choked voice: "It's actually... quite emotional, standing up here with these three guys after all these years... Standing to be counted with the rest of you. Anyway...we're doing this for everyone who's not here... and particularly of course, for Syd." The vocals were divided between the two - first Gilmour, then Waters and then both emotional voices together.

How I wish, how I wish you were here...

They were calling to Syd together, as they had once called out to him three decades ago.

With an uncharacteristic "Here we go", the four launched into Comfortably Numb. During Gilmour's legendary guitar solo at the end of the song, a huge "Make Poverty History" sign was displayed on that eternal Floydian symbol, The Wall. But amidst the bright lights, the stirring music and the sheer magic of the moment, nobody really paid it any attention.






The last beautiful notes died away and the cymbals crashed to signify the end. Roger invited his three former friends to salute the audience together. The four of them stood, arms on each other's shoulders, facing the world, facing the greatness they had achieved in the past and facing the harsh reality that the song was over.