Omane from Aadujeevitham

 

Note: the song is best experienced using headphones.

A disclaimer: I know it's a tad too late to write about the song, maybe, I am a year late. But given my confidence in its longevity, it's just delayed justice. It's a classic and needs no further explanation.

The song begins with a curious BGM and continues for most part of the song, guiding the song like the rail for the train. Through the entire song, it moves like water gently folding and making progression towards a destination it's sure of. And in just a few seconds, Chinmayi is almost speaking out the verses in monotone. She starts off singing like a person wandering in the woods, singing their favourite song so softly, and they are like a teaser or a precursor trying to convey about what's to come. 

In the background, you can faintly hear the santoor, cello, violin, and tabla playing shyly and humbly like they are being introduced to the audience who are to listen to an epic of a song. 

And then again, Chinmayi sings the same verses in a way that sounds like someone saying, ‘I repeat…’. By now, all the instruments are playing their notes in a beautiful flow.

Just when we think we are getting used to the song, Vijay Jesudas  comes in, with his first cameo act. He sings with so much emotion, a contrast to Chinmayi’s monotony in the beginning verses. Now the song is cruising ahead, like the train that's steadying and in full swing, on autopilot. And Chinmayi goes ahead with her part in full prowess. You cannot stop wondering about what to notice: her voice, inflections, or the way she effortlessly delivers the complex Malayalam lyrics. 

A note about the lyrics: I bet you cannot sing along, even after multiple attempts, and strategies such as listening to it a hundred times may help. I suppose you don't have to bother so much if your native language is Malayalam. This is in contrast to songs like Malare that have simpler and listener-friendly words. I've tried all means: to listen to it by paying full attention, sometimes by letting it play in the background, sometimes by understanding the lyrics, sometimes by reading it without the song, and trying to read the lyrics and sing along. Anyways, with respect to the sweetness of the song, somehow, I liked listening to the Telugu version best after the Malayalam version. Tamil, Kannada, and Hindi were ok.

So, back to Chinmayi. I've missed her so much since the likes of Kannathil, Enna Idhu, Zehanazeeb, and Titli, that now it's come to the point of not recognizing her voice. Of course, I was too preoccupied with my life. I must be… because even for me to be dazed in the voice of Kadhale from 96, it took quite a while! Obviously, Chinmayi is absolutely amazing. Add to the list of missing things in my life, and tending to the point of forgetting: the genius that Rahman is. This song compensates for everything.

Back to the song… by now, the first quarter of the song is done, which is almost like a teaser to the song. And, in the middle of the song comes a breather in the form of a chorus that sings carnatic, folk, and hindustani, followed by a qawwali. All blend together and one after the other in the middle portion of the song. The highlight of the qawwali is that it's sung not in the usual high-pitched rustic male voice, but in a cooing light-weight female voice, and that's something unusual yet amazing. The entire song sounds like it has a different structure because of this chorus. 

So, there's not a quiet moment in the song, like in most songs where the instruments play for a bit. The only time you can hear just the music is in the ending.

At this point, it's worth mentioning about the transitions: though there are a lot of times where the song changes hands, like Chinmayi handing it over to Vijay Yesudas, and back to her, and again from her to the chorus. Even until this point, there is no trace of transition elements, and yet the song goes on so smoothly. The best part comes when the song transitions from chorus to the qawwali bit. This is certainly the proof of inventiveness of ‘the’ Rahman: with just a half second of tabla playing, the song completely changes mood, with only the tabla and harmonium playing in the background. And the next transition is from qawwali to Chinmayi. Now the curious BGM comes to rescue, and we have no trouble getting back to square one with how Chinmayi started off. The penultimate transition is from Vijay Yesudas to Chinmayi, and that's rather abrupt: when he goes off on high-pitch, Chinmayi takes over the reins in a very unwelcome manner. But we can hardly think of it as rudeness. It is sweet, because she is on a mission: to safely steer, what started to look like a catamaran when the song started off, and that has now turned into a huge gigantic titanic.

So, in the last quarter, the instruments play along with singers, with the assertive authority of someone who's got the hang of the song. What played very tentatively in the beginning, like seeking permission, now plays in a very sure-footed manner. Both the singers sing like they are traversing through a familiar terrain, a known territory with the support of the instruments. 

And in the end, when the mood changes to we bidding farewell, the music slows down like they are applying the brakes to a giant juggernaut, and ending on a rather melancholic note. By now, we experience that we've travelled through the life of a great long-winding epic.

~ 16Mar2025

Making Sense

 

When music works on me

my life seems to me 

like a copy-color book

It piques my mind

I pick the colour it tells

And shade my thoughts

under its spell

At times, 

it makes me 

imagine and invent 

new hues, and

splash splendid shades

on my mundane life

At times,

it singles out a subtle emotion

wading through the pool 

of fluidic memories

illuminating it

So I can examine later

in greater detail

Like the sight of food

evoking a sense of taste 

One sense can make another.

The sound of music

for me

evokes a sense of colour 

~ 23 Feb 2025

Courtesy: Thendral vandhu theendum pothu enna vannamo...

The Fifth Monkey

There’s a tussle among the thoughts
Their quest is about
who must get thought about,
for how long and first.

These thoughts ace at striking me
just when I lay supine at night
They splash on my face
this handful of ice cold water
that I readily hold in my palms together.

I watch them in silence, and wonder:
how they flawlessly mimic
kids inside classrooms
waiting to run amok
at the ring of the relieving bells.

When I try to tame and distract,
there’s no harping or heeding.
Now I get it. No, they are not kids.
Like adolescents, they get better at it.

One after another, the adolescent me
fills the seats of the classroom,
and do just what they think.

While one of me thinks about
how much of a wonder a song is,
another one’s memory comes rushing in
fighting for my mind space,
and
I am already reeling out commentaries
about a recent song that
sets me on a trampoline
making me jump out of joy,
every time I listen to it, and
the other one that’s full of warmth
like a lover cuddling me
gently from behind, ear-to-ear,
resting their chin on my shoulder
when I am breathing in
the crisp, cold air on a breezy night.

Another of me now raises the hand
and recites an enticing analogy:
about the pleasures of finding
long-forgotten unsent notes
to a lover,
like that of seeing
misplaced, forgotten money
under folded, unused clothes.

A third one
points to the direction of my son
who murmurs, ‘no, I didn’t do it’,
in his sleep,
and makes me ponder
about how much of a bother
I have been to him.

Here comes version number four.
Who am I?
Where’s the missing euphoria, or,
was there even any such thing in me?
Guess I am just such a bore...

Around about the fifth hour
the fifth monkey sits up...
retching a papery white and blue
peppered with all these thoughts,
sweet and sour.

Like a good bout of vomit
throwing out the bad bile,
this poring act brought the relief
like the small pill that cures the ill,

And then came the sleep,
slow and still.


~ Jul 06

For the Sweetest Song Ever!

O! Sweet song,
This moment,
Ask me who I want to love.
I would look at you,
Unhesitatingly!

You sound to me like
the sweet voice of my lover,
ringing constantly into my ears,
ever so mellifluously.
Look at the irony:
I've begun to listen to you dutifully,
though you sing in a language
that's a little strange to me.

And as I take you in slowly,
you dribble me in a shower,
raining not of water, but honey
I declare, I'll never be sane again.

When I make sense of you,
my love sees no bound
I'm in a constant state of ecstasy
I dance and float around, like
I've never been on ground. By now,
you've held me in your sway
And, I realize to my dismay
my senses have gone astray

O! sweet song,
This moment,
Ask me who I want to be.
I would point to you,

Unflinchingly!


~ Nov 05, 2020

Panacea for Oblivion

I am in oblivion, and
almost in a state of delirium
letting a world of suffering
be poured on to me

Now, there are two paths:
To go down the spiral
or to shake it off.

Though I have seen enough,
and know the cause and effect,
the pessimist streak in me
is urging to take the
path of self-destruction.

By now, I was ambling in the dark,
deciding which road to take,
whether to grow the flame, or
to let go of the hurt and blame

Enter the piano man!
Think it's going to change
the course of my fate...?

He was playing Beethoven's
Moonlight Sonata, followed by
Pachelbel's Canon In D Major,
and over to Grieg
with his Morning Mood
and the beatific Anitra's Dance.

Just when I was settling in
came Schubert and Chopin
chirping the Swan Song
and Nocturn No. 2, and
I was surprised to change:
the pallor went to blush from pale
Just listen to Bizet and Bach 

play their Carmen and Badinerie!

By the time Mozart played
his Turkish March and
Piano Sonata No. 16,
I went home brainwashed
and feeling sanctified. Ironically,
Beethoven's closing piece,
Pathetique, wasn't so bad!

Rightly so, it was called: piano forte!


~ June 30, 2020

A Mood for the Song

This one was a strange experience for me. Given the strangeness of every aspect of my state of being these days, I am both surprised as well as not too surprised. Surprised, at the range of emotions this one has brought in me, when the mood for this is song is very binary. There are no two ways about the mood for this song: it is devotion, surrender, hope, sadness, and a kind of prayer. And I am not too surprised that these kinds of things are happening to me because I have become so vulnerable; I guess everyone has been conditioned so, with the experience we are going through now.

Anyways, it is 'Sun raha hai na tu' sung by Shreya Ghoshal.

The most likely event of occurrence arising out of listening to it in loop whenever circumstances permitted me to, would be to be engulfed in the mood of the song. Despite knowing the consequences, I went about listening to it like a desolated lover in search of her lost love. And this went on for a number of days. For quite a while, I was obsessed, beyond reason, by the voice, that apart from a few other obviously apparent highlights of the song, I could not realize and appreciate the finer aspects of the song, which I would usually be able to do for other songs that are ingrained in my life. So much that I have slept off listening to it, and have awakened realizing some silence, because it faded off when it was finishing and getting ready to play the next time in loop.

And then, when the space and time came about for me to write about it, like some spirit's handiwork, it all disappeared. I sit to write and the feeling that swept me off my feet is no longer hitting me. It wasn't like I felt indifferent to it or something, but that longing feeling was no longer there. It was like I followed it like a religion, and now, I suddenly became an atheist. The strangeness and weirdness is because an atheist usually has a reason or at least an indifference when he turns away from his beliefs. A religious fanatic turned into an atheist. Just like that.

Yet, I am still in love and completely awestruck by the voice and the emotion that it evokes. It was like I was possessed and now liberated. Like a constricted pipe that was released. Not that I was suffering earlier and now relieved... But, somehow, it felt strange to have gone through this thing, and now to have a feeling that the entire experience felt meaningless. Was I supposed to infer anything out of it? I do not know. But then, it was some un-named kind of feeling.

Now, I can listen to the song with a familiarity of having known someone long enough, without having the urge, impulse, and eagerness of wanting to know more. No longing, no desperation. Just bliss. A feeling of satiety, and no hunger.

I am holding the song like an unworried child

perched on its mother's hips

clutching her robe for its comfort

Like a playful lover gripping the wrist

of his departing lover

For its part, the song too reciprocates

like there is assurance for the barren

The grip is effortless, and

there’s no desperation to hold her back

Neither is there a display of resistance

There's no questioning on the intent

and there's no illegitimacy in the act

There is neither contempt nor weariness

of having known it well enough

Fan in Four

Of the things that I hate the most 

tell me about 

the whirling fan in four... 

of the monstrous whooshing noise, 

and of its mechanised gusty air.

But then, when there are 

these weightless bloodsuckers 

hanging around 

like they are on a vacation 

with free food 

on the mercy of your tired legs

while you are working like a maniac...

Just imagine what comfort it is

on a sultry night, after a long day 

to just hang up your feet 

at the edge of your working table

letting them nod to the music, that 

the snug-fit earplugs deliver to your ears,

and with a good book in your hand... 

Now, you savour the satanic pleasure, of 

seeing the parasites suffer from starvation 

from the corner of your eyes...!

High-five to...

The fan, in speed four!

A note about notes

I think I sold Rahman a little short in "Of Opera, Train Tracks, Rhapsody, and A Gentleman in Moscow" when I briefly touched upon his usage of Carnatic notes in his compositions. It brings such a ravishing feel to the songs, no denial about it. And yeah, the mention of Carnatic notes in a song tends one to slow down the conversation, sink into the current state of being with eyes closed, with swaying of heads and the four of your fingers count and group portions of the song by repeatedly contacting the thumb. But no, we are not anywhere closer to this state of being in most of the songs where Rahman uses the Carnatic notes. There is a lot of tempo that the notes bring to the songs.

I had mentioned about Yaakkai Thiri from Ayudha Ezhuthu, Mangta Hai Kya from Rangeela, Dil Se Re in Dil Se, Kannalane from Bombay, and Thee Thee from Thiruda Thiruda. Perhaps, it was a thoughtless list. So, here is some thought to it.

Like the 'seeing red cars' phenomenon, I could not help but pay attention to the ones that had Carnatic notes. Of songs in that category, I must not miss the titular song in Bombay Dreams (yr 2002). While the female chorus does have some notes, it is not until Rahman pitches in with his strained tone that the song picks a considerable pace, especially in the last minute. 

Well, the album was a bit of a let down for me, primarily because part of the album is a medley of songs from movies such as Taal, Mudhalvan, Dil Se, and Minsara Kanavu... the ones that came out in the last three years of the 90s. Be that as it may, a few of the original pieces do exhibit Rahman's genius. Take the How Many Stars song; it has such a beautiful stature, in both words and composition. Or, Salaam Bombay or The Journey Home for that matter. Through the Ganesh song, one cannot stop and wonder about the fact that the Ganesh Chathurthi festival in Bombay is nothing short of a celebration. And the second song in the Bombay Dreams album to exhibit the magic of notes is Wedding Qawwali. 

One more with notes is the Kariye Na song in Taal. It is a folk-themed song with more emphasis to the verses. And in his own style, Rahman would play down everything and keep it to a bare minimum. Add to it, the Noor-Un-Ala-Noor song from Meenaxi. While Taal was overrated and lived to its expectations, Meenaxi's songs are those that exhibit Rahman's passion and repertoire. Thankfully, I have listened to Meenaxi's songs over a thousand times in these 15 years and not seen the videos until today; even Mangta Hai Kya's video for that matter. Certain things (do not) happen for a reason! 

A few other notable songs with Carnatic notes are Luka Chuppi from Rang De Basanti and Tere Bina from Guru. 

Anyways, now to the closing notes: though my desperation to reach out to Rahman's new songs and familiarize them has died out, I still cannot stop being amazed by the fact that, by hook or crook, the songs end up reaching my ears.

Of Opera, Train Tracks, Rhapsody, and A Gentleman in Moscow

With Amor Towles' Sasha aka Alexander's intriguing narration of Sofia's presence filling every inch of his lonely but made-to-be-lively life, can I ever imagine being distracted by anything at all in this world! No... absolutely not. But then, I am human; more importantly, a music-loving rahmaniac. So, you must have guessed what happened. In fact, I started reading "A Gentleman in Moscow" sometime in mid-December. Though it took quite some time to get used to Moscow's terrain and the Count's whereabouts in Hotel Metropol, it took a really good pace until mid-Jan, then I lost my rhythm midway of the book, and while attempting to pick up the book, I must have re-read the same chapter at least ten times, and then, finally one day in April, I surpassed the oft-treaded road (chapter named Absinthe), and finally moved on to Addendum and managed to hop from 1930 to 1938! Can you imagine, in about all of the 40 chapters of the book, all chapter names start with the letter A (the only exceptions being the chapters named 1930 and 1946)?

So, if I have been at it, failed so many times, and have managed to carry on, then imagine the persistence I must have had when I set forth myself to read, and especially with Amor's writing being just so stellar in the Adjustments chapter...!

Anyways, coming to the topic of distraction and that led to my subsequent suffering from migraine for the next 3 days... I left you hanging at guessing what happened, right? You may have guessed it right. But I am not going to let you walk away with it that easily. Yes, it is some song, but you must also guess which one of Rahman's distracted me from my sage-like stance and set me into an unimaginable state of trance. So much to talk about... and I am not sure where to start.

Let me start with Rahman's love for the sound of the trains on the tracks. How many of them! Mangta hai kya from Rangeela, Chaiyya Chaiyya from Dil se, Chikkubukku chikkubukku railae from Gentleman, O Saya from Slumdog Millionaire, Mental Manadhil from OK Kanmani. Of these, let me talk about an under-rated but one of my top favourites--that is still, even after 25 years of its existence. Yes... the Rangeela one--Mangta hai kya. What more can I talk, and how else can I describe, more than what the title has already said! This is Rahman's first song that he sang in Hindi, and so, it still is a little rustic and inexperienced. And, even though the song credits read Rahman and Shweta Shetty, I am sure that it is Unnikrishnan who sang the Carnatic bit in the end. And that again is one of Rahman's trademarks - the usage of Carnatic notes in songs. Dil se re in Dil Se, Yaakkai thiri from Ayudha Ezhuthu, Mangta hai kya from Rangeela, Kannalane from Bombay, Thee thee from Thiruda Thiruda. Now, I have traversed so much.

So, let me go back to the Gentleman. In fact, I was wondering a few days ago on how relevant is the theme or setting of the book to our current times. The indefinite house arrest of the Count and our similar plight these days, only hoping that the prevalent virus does not keep our company. Yeah! the one named 'Corona'. Of course, Count Rostov's pursuit is so much longer than ours. A long elaborate post just on the invasion of Corona into our lives much later.

For now, more than me talking anymore about Amor Towles's amazing book, a few lines in his own words that can vouch for his work.

The twice-tolling clock: A student of both the Stoics and Montaigne, the Count's father believed that our Creator had set aside the morning hours for industry. That is, if a man woke no later than six, engaged in a light repast and then applied himself without interruption, by the hour of noon he should have accomplished a full day's labor.

The Juggler: With the fruit in his hands, he stood perfectly erect. Or rather, he stood at a slight tilt induced by the wine, a sort of 12:02. ... For Andrey's hand had been crafted by God to juggle. So deft was his touch that the oranges moved of their own accord. Or better yet, they moved like planets governed by a force of gravity that simultaneously propelled them forward and kept from flinging off into space, while Andrey, who was standing before these orbits and releasing them a moment later to pursue their natural course. ... And when he set the four knives in motion, Emile leaned back in his chair and with a tear in his eyes, watched as his trusted blade tumbled effortlessly through space, feeling that this moment, this hour, this universe could not be improved upon.

Sofia: Retreating to the safety of his washroom, the Count took off his shirt, bathed his upper body, lathered his cheeks, all the while muttering the principle riddle of the day: “She is no more than thirty pounds; no more than three feet tall; her entire bag of belongings could fit in a single drawer; she rarely speaks unless spoken to; and her heart beats no louder than a bird’s. So how is it possible that she takes up so much space?”

Over the years, the Count had come to think of his rooms as rather ample. In the morning, they easily accommodated twenty squats and twenty stretches, a leisurely breakfast, and the reading of a novel in a tilted chair. In the evenings after work, they fostered flights of fancy, memories of travel, meditations on history all crowned by a good night’s sleep. Yet somehow, this little visitor with her kit bag and her rag doll had altered every dimension of the room. She had simultaneously brought the ceiling downward, the floor upward, and the walls inward, such that anywhere he hoped to move she was already there. Having roused himself from a fitful night on the floor, when the Count was ready for his morning calisthenics, she was standing in the calisthenics spot. At breakfast, she ate more than her fair share of strawberries; then when he was about to dip his second biscuit in his second cup of coffee, she was staring at it with such longing that he had no choice but to ask if she wanted it. And when, at last, he was ready to lean back in his chair with his book, she was already sitting in it, staring up at him expectantly.

The Music in my House

Oh! the voices...
Of the dramatic cello
the sad violin, and 
the mellifluous flute.
I am not trained in them
yet
I can play them well, when 
in my act
I am not too cautious or slow

My heart is calm and still
my mind is unoccupied, 
and
I can hear the occupants 
of my house
play the note equally well
with precisely,
the same tone and pitch 


Three cheers...
To the dear, creaking doors 
for bringing music into my house!

The Gift

If there is one that you would want to give to someone whom you think must get the best in this world. Like say, for instance, your kid. And let's assume that they have the innate sense to take of good care of things that they own and always strive to honor the responsibility given to them--to take good care what you have bestowed them.

What would you gift?

The fact that I started writing on 'the gift' deems me to give it hands down to the blessing of losing yourself to the versatility of music, of the things it can do to you. And like the fusion of two of the best things, it would be the duo of immersing yourself into the moments when the rain god presents herself and augmenting it with the vivacious listening spell that you have bound yourself into.

Cotton Ball - Redacted

On a dreary and cold day,
I sit in my room 
listening to a song, 
spieled to eternity.

I imagine tearing away
bleached white layers
from the cotton roll.

I fold and refold,
make two small balls
and stuff them into my ears.

My weary mind yields 
to a strange urge 
that comes over me.

I take the song in my hands,
gently make two globs,
and thrust 'em into my ears,
reassured of the warmth
to my cold heart.


Edits Credit: MaheshC

Cotton Ball

It's a cold day.
I imagine tearing away 
white layers of soft, fluffy cotton 
from the bale.

I make two small balls 
and stuff them into my ears.

As I listen to an all-absorbing song, 
an urge comes over me,
and I continue.

I take the song in my hands,
roll it into two chunks, and
thrust them into my ear canal...

To provide comfort and warmth
to my cold heart,
and clear itself
from the over-crowded clutter
caused by the innumerous, unsolved 
problems and troubles of my world.

Love sunk, again!

When I fell in love with a song, I always tried to translate it and quenched my thirst. If I loved it so dearly, I also wrote about it. And now, even though I have not written about this song as yet, and I am going to write about it now, I am not sure if the respect for this song is going to die down so easily… Honestly, I am so madly in love with this song that I am feeling so bad that I cannot translate it one more time!

Out of the blue, the thought to listen to it and make it fill my senses bloomed on a very tired night, when I was trying to keep a guard on myself and that is something that I am not going to talk about here, because it is going to be out of context. In fact, the song actually managed to hijack my concentration from a thing that has been holding my mind captive for days together now. However, without much digression, let me say the song that I am talking about. But before I plunge, I must say that music and writing has again come to my rescue.

The translation was dated Nov 23, 2011. The rediscovery is happening almost 5 years later. And I just discovered that I had written, ‘Childlike Joy’, when I had attempted to translate this song then. No wonder…! Well, I am talking about my fondness for this song.

So what is so special about this song? OK. So which song is it that is robbing me of much needed sleep… It is ‘Kadhal Vaithu’ from the movie, Deepavali.

First off, I think it is the verses, and the next two things that would go in hand would be the voice and the music. I am not really going to talk about the lyrics here because I think I have done justice to it. So, the next best thing is the voice. Vijay Yesudas literally dignifies this song despite a few shortcomings that exist in every song, which are a few necessary evil things, either to fill the time and space, and the void. He is so sincere, so matter of fact, so soaked in love, elated, so endearing and passionate, in that order from the moment he starts singing first word of the song. And then he goes off in the tone of a story teller, and then becomes a person who is so love sunk. And then, the music takes off…

The simple guitar chords that begin the song, the amazing violin in the early to the middle portion of the song, the sarangi in the later half, the brief and subtle piano at the end, and the closing violin that signs off the song epitomizes the way a composer can use the instruments so flawlessly.

Amazing!

Dated: Feb 16, 2016

Translation of Mazhai Vara Pogudhe from Yennai Arinthal

There she comes, the rain.
And now, she begins to shower.
Would it do to not get soaked?

The flower garden is closing in.
And now, the place is oozing with charm.
Would it do to not get lost?

My heart floats
like the cloud-like soft cotton,
What do I do to redeem it?
I wonder to whom would it listen!

With her sea-like eyes 
she tranced me.
I have already gone lost,
and yet, it is all for good.

A bit on the fire, 
a bit on the river,
unsure and still, stands my heart.

With her dark eyes, 
the doe-eyed keeps stabbing me,
and yet,
the pain has such sweetness.

She asks me to live in,
in her dimpled cheek.
What a priceless boon
for a lifetime!

She dropped by when the moon slept in the clouds, 
and I was drawn deep in my dreams.
And yet, when she left, 
she never bothered to caress me.

The eyes would not shut
and the sleep would not arrive.
She named it love,
and blessed me abundantly with it.

She nears, and my heart goes ahead.
She goes, and my heart goes behind...
My heart! You are so stuffed with her memories.

Keep the eyes of the butterfly shut,
and yet, it still reaches the flower.
What about the rain?
It does have to reach the earth.

Where you stand, 
there reaches my eyes.
I am so fixated that you walk back and forth, 
and my heart just keeps vacillating merrily.

You... 
are the swaying peacock,
with your tail on my shoulders...
I would watch it trail by, 
all my life.

Mazhai Vara Pogudhe from Yennai Arindhal

After quite a long time, a song has caught me unawares, made me get hooked to it for its casualness, coolness, the romance in it, verve, and for its amazing lyrical quality.

Thamarai never fails to amaze me with her brilliance. She is just amazing! The song has the feel that the Ennai Konjam song from Kaakha Kaakha gave. The structure of the song and the way Karthik has sung the song kind of reminds me of the Karka Karka song in Vettaiyadu Vilayadu. However, it still has some very unique elements like the part where the lady hums and the veenai bit plays the second fiddle, and yet, it is the veenai that you strain and yearn to hear more. The veenai kind of reminds you of the striking way in which it was used in the Uyirin Uyire song in Kaakha Kaakha. But then, the pleasing undertones in this one just draws you in... And, looks like Harris has still not forgotten the guitar background that features in the 'Love at First Sight' song by Kylie Minogue. Kinda the same guitar bit that appears in the Manjal Veyil song in Vettaiyadu Vilayadu.

All said, Mazhai Vara Pogudhe is a beautiful song from the team. And when I say 'team', how can I miss talking about the visual? It has a real charm to it--the way the couple starts off with an SMS and ends with a beautiful romance bit. None to beat Gautham Menon for the way he makes the visuals for his songs. Of course, should I even say about the pair... This one, for sure, is such a beauty and would stay etched in the memories for quite some time now.

Translation of Mazhai Vara Pogudhe from Yennai Arindhal... Coming soon!

Music

I listen to music to beat my blues...

P.S.: Funny I just realized there is so much music even in that sentence that I just wrote!

After a long time!

Playing in loop: Just the way you are, by Bruno Mars.

Amazing is just not the word!

Translation of Poo Avizhum Pozhudhil from Enakkul Oruvan

So, here is the translation of the song Poo Avizhum Pozhudhil from Enakkul Oruvan. By the way, the song takes the credit of being one of the very few songs that has filled my ears the maximum number of times in a loop, without interference from other songs, for days together. There we go...

As the flower unfurls,

my mind sees a thousand dreams.

I float through one dream

and see the same moon.

From her face's innocence,

emerged a radiant smile

and it sprinkled

a myriad lucent flowers.

Then, the skin gets to feel

like the floating cloud.

The clouds entwine

to give birth to the rain.

Your verse traverses through

the notes of my breath,

And there surfaces, the music of love

that warmly drench my inner depths.

Like the effulgent moon

seen in the sky's breadth,

She'd be seen

in this man's expanse.

She spread her stellar wings,

Locked my fingers into hers,

Turned a blind eye

and drew me in dreams.

This is the one state

that escapes the length of time.

No wonder...

I see a million flowers

bloom on my skin.

Poo Avizhum Pozhudhil from Enakkul Oruvan

An intriguing start to this mesmerizing song gives you a feeling that you are travelling hand in hand with your lover into a safe and dim-lit tunnel. Not that just this music bit lets you visualize things; everything in the song spreads your imagination. What more can the lyricist ask for, to get noticed, if the music has already started expressing what you are about to say? One might wonder if it is the composer’s way all through… No. It is a level-play over the entire 4 minutes or so of the song—all elements in the song are in a state of controlled domination. And everything flows so mellifluously—the flow from one tune to another, from one pitch to another, from one thought to another, from one modulation to another, from one emotion to another.

Well if you had noticed the title, good for you. I forget myself so much when I listen to this song that I feel it is not surprising to have forgotten to say which song I am talking about. It is the Poo Avizhum Pozhudil song from Enakkul Oruvan (2014). I am so awestruck by its simplicity. And... Just listen to the strings throughout the song! Such a beauty... either it is subdued and acts as a moral support like a parent behind a kid learning to ride the cycle; or at times a companion to the singer, like the better half with an equal voice; or at times, like the friend who shouts in a chorus, disapproving of the teacher's blames when you are caught in the middle of a mischief at school.

Though the lyricist, Vivek had spoken about the words in this song in a different context, I am still not convinced that he was referring to just that context. I will still leave it to the listener to interpret the unsaid. And yes, very beautiful lyrics that delivers the right imagination for the mood of the song.

Do I even have to talk about Santosh's brilliance? He is a treat to my musical senses.

Not in context to this song, but pertaining to his capabilities, he has got the capability to score for a range of situations so aptly—for a harmless kidnapper who walks coolly after closing a deal, as well as for the yearning lover boy who just got noticed by his girl. What a repertoire!

Though I did not want to translate this song, something made me attempt it. Let's see if I was able to capture the beauty of the words in the song...