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Read Part 1
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The actual pancharatna rendition got off to a bit
of a wobbly start, with the women taking the lead. It took an uncertain few
seconds for the men's voice to be heard and even then the imbalance in pitch
was too high for comfort. Probably the clustering of microphones around a few
prominent artistes, not necessarily the most proficient in pancharatna
rendition, on each side also contributed to the overall lack of
listening pleasure. There were a few isolated figures among the sea of
faces, singing their hearts out, with their devotion and dedication
self-evident. This includes a female artiste with a film background on
whom the TV cameras tended to linger more often! It was interesting to
see the ripple of plastic smiles and flashing diamonds moving like a
Mexican Wave behind the swiveling TV cameras! Hardly forty minutes later, the hype 'n hoopla was
done with and there was another mad scramble - god knows why - to vacate the
arena. Tyagaraja was the last person on everybody's mind during the next five to ten minutes of total chaos
and mini stampedes. Musicians cursed, safari-clad securitywallahs yelled
choice expletives and our friend Manimaran got pushed around by an
overenthusiastic 'rasika' shoving his way to get near a popular lady musician. |
A view of the Aradhana enclosure |
When the dust settled and the crowds cleared, poor Rajam Iyer was still seated
in the sand, his octogenarian frame unable to get up without assistance and
looking quite befuddled by all the commotion around him. Helped to his feet,
he was quite gracious and blessed us, insisting that youngsters come every
year to the Aradhana and sing with sincerity and good pathantaram. We decided to head back to Thanjavur and get some
rest before embarking on a temple tour in the afternoon. The parceled idlis
and pongal having grown quite cold by now, we washed them down with some
divine tender coconut juice from a bicycle vendor on the road back to
Thanjavur. A few hours of sleep and a
hearty Thanjavur lunch later, we set out for the temple of Bangaru Kamakshi,
Shyama Shastri's ishta devata.
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The temple of Bangaru Kamakshi |
Shyama Shastri's lyrics on the walls of
the Kamakshi temple |
Being not quite the busiest hour of the evening
yet, the place was eerily calm. Shashikiran, as is his wont in such
sannidhis, began to quietly sing "Devi Brova", Shyama Shastri's
masterpiece in Chintamani. The priest finished the pooja, emerged from the
darkened sanctum and dispensed the customary kumkumam and flowers and
asked Shashi to sing something more. Out came "Palinchu Kamakshi" and once
again I was left marveling how a divine presence gives an added lustre to the
lyrics that one has heard umpteen times in concerts. Listening to the music
with eyes closed, one could almost visualize Shyama Shastri sitting
cross-legged at the same sannidhi, pouring his heart out to the Divine Mother.
The priest later accompanied us around the temple as we took in the atmosphere
and narrated some anecdotes from his memories. It was already past five in the
afternoon and we had the Big Temple on our agenda before heading back to
Tiruvaiyaru for the night concerts. The time constraint meant that we had to
shelve the priest's suggestion to visit Shyama Shastri's house in the
agraharam.
For the first-time visitor, the Brihadeeshwarar
Temple or Periya Kovil is indeed an imposing sight. The soft evening
sunlight cast a lovely soft-focus halo to the massive vimanam. Skirting
the hordes of insistent knick-knack vendors and a slooooow-moving gaggle of
French tourists, we made our way past the enormous Nandi and into the inner
sanctum. Time once again for some music, as Shashi & Ganesh sang a couple of
Dikshitar masterpieces on Lord Shiva. As they wound down and we started to
leave, a rather stout-looking dark young man at the rear of the throng of
devotees started a sequence of Tevarams, in a rich tone and a typically
traditional Odhuvar style. It was one of those purely thrilling moments that
come one's way occasionally. We later made the young man's acquaintance and
were pleasantly surprised to know that he was a disciple of the late KVN and
currently pursuing a music degree at Madras University. Moving on, we climbed
the narrow ladder on the southern face of the gopuram that runs upto the
Dakshinamurthy sannidhi. A fine 'Dakshinamurthe' in Shankarabharanam
from Ganesh and we were moving again, taking in the 108 shivalingams
along the periphery of the temple.
Temple visits done with, it was time to head back
to the hotel, freshen up and set out once again to Tiruvaiyaru. Shashi &
Ganesh were slotted to sing at 8.15 pm, but we got there well ahead of time
and sure enough, the concerts were running much behind schedule, thus giving
us enough time for a quick visit to Tirumanjana Veedhi, where Tyagaraja's
house is located. You would easily miss the house in the blink of an eye,
among several similar nondescript ones in that row, if not for the perfunctory
toranams and extra fluorescent lamp on the occasion of the Aradhana. If
you expected a serene classical atmosphere at the bard's house, you would be
sorely disappointed, for the Kalyana Mandapam next door was packed to capacity
and the music blaring from the loudspeakers was the choicest dappanguthu
from Kollywood. Tyagaraja's soul has probably reconciled to the changing
times, leaving us lesser beings to do the breast-beating about the decline in
popular tastes...
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The entrance to Tyagaraja's residence |
Musicians offering homage in the pooja
room |
The house itself is rather dilapidated and the man
in charge was clearly in a hurry to lock up for the night, Aradhana or no
Aradhana! We stretched his patience a bit, with the musicians in our group
singing several kritis at a leisurely pace and Yours Truly lingering quite a
while on the faded photographs and other memorabilia in the house. I was keen
to visit the temple of Dharmasamvarddhani, but the late hour and the impending
concert put paid to my hopes. Returning to the samadhi, it was good to see the
large crowds listening keenly to the sequence of 20-minute concerts proceeding
with clinical precision on the dual stage. As one set of performers concluded
their act, the next was already tuned up and set to go on the adjoining stage.
It was almost like watching a limited-overs cricket match and I was wondering
when this condensed kutcheri culture would come to Chennai, where the concert
durations are already in exponential decay during the season!
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Shashikiran & Ganesh performing at the
Aradhana |
The short
duration and the heavy demand for 'slots' means no alapanas, neravals
and swarams. Sit down, reel off two or three kritis in quick succession
and get the hell out... that's the norm. It's almost like an assembly
line for the bard's compositions and you do get an overdose of some
popular pieces. But dedication, merit and class will shine through, no
matter what. And it's the sheer spirit of the occasion that is of
supreme importance, amply reflected in the enthusiasm of the crowds even
late at night, lapping up the evergreen compositions. We remained at the
venue quite a while, taking in some good and some mediocre music,
browsing around the makeshift stalls that hawked everything from
tavil straps to timeshare holidays, running into several
acquaintances, drinking watery tea and peeping into King Kunnakudi's
quarters where he was presiding over a mini-durbar. Heading back to
Thanjavur late at night and onto Chennai early next morning, one's mind
was a mixed bag of the emotions noted at the beginning of these
reminiscences. |
Would I go back to Tiruvaiyaru? Maybe not for
another Aradhana, but surely yes, at a quieter time... to take in the several
sights and sites left unseen in this first outing. The Cauvery may not be as
full, the paddy not as green and the tender coconut not as fresh as this first
time, but the spirit of the saint will linger and beckon both musician and
music-lover. Long live Tyagaraja!
-- Ramanathan N. Iyer
Feb. 1st, 2005 |
