+ Beyond the Confines of Raga

Carnatic Music is essentially raga music. But I have come across two instances where raga steps aside for a few moments as the sheer flow of sound takes over. One would not be mistaken in thinking that this would be a period of chaos. But the natural progression ensures that the music remains organic. The other point is that both instances are instrumental. The voice would have had much more of a chance of giving the impression of disharmony.

L Shankar – Ananda Nadamadum (Who’s To Know): This kriti is in Raga Savitri, and what I am talking about happens near the end of it. After a few rounds of kalpana swaras, Shankar moves on to a ragamalika swara section, which contains eight ragas. In the repeat phase, the avartanas become shorter till each raga gets the space of only six notes without break. Then it goes down further to three and then the tempo doubles to the third kaala. At this stage, it is nothing more than a blur of notes before they get clarified and end in a flurry in Hamsadhwani. But by then, the music has become so intense and the progression is so well managed that you don't think that you are getting only three rapid notes of a scale, which is as good as nothing in that raga.

U Srinivas – Magudi: It starts off innocent enough as a traditional magudi in Punnagavarali, but soon foreign notes start creeping in, one by one, unobtrusively, till what we have resembles the chromatic scale more than any raga. But the way Srinivas manages the introduction of foreign notes and maintains the mood is admirable. The cascade of notes adds to the awe and mystique of the netherworld atmosphere created by the original Punnagavarali till it becomes almost eerie. Then, in a quick but effective denouement, Srinivas gets back to the finale in Punnagavarali. Quite magical.

I don’t know if there are other instances of such a gentle assault of foreign notes. I have heard a Kapi by T R Mahalingam, where Mali stretches the limits of Kapi by introducing foreign notes and at one point plays the chromatic scale right up and back down again. However, I didn’t get the feeling of the alien notes blending seamlessly into the spirit of the raga. In fact, the buffoonery that Mali indulges in this casual recording of a live concert takes away the edge of seriousness. It’s all good fun with the thrill that the unexpected provides in a live concert (especially with someone as eccentric as Mali), but that is more or less all it is.

+ Puns and Stuff

Puns have been called the lowest form of humour. And someone added: "...and hence, the foundation of all humour." That addresses both sides of the argument adequately, and so I will let it be at that.

I do like puns; sometimes I love them. And, on occasion, I cringe from them. This latter form I usually find in newspapers – Indian English newspapers, I must specify.

I saw one in the papers today. Safin winning the Australian Open prompted this front-page headline: "Safin(e) a game". I don’t know what it means but I think I know what it is supposed to mean, and know very well that it is the sub trying desperately to be clever. This is trying to fit a round peg in a square hole, insisting that it is square, and fitting it with stuff to fill the gaps near the corners. Isn’t that what the ‘e’ in those brackets is doing?

For me, a good pun has to be straightforward, with its second meaning peeping out from behind the obvious one; not a convoluted and strained piece of wordplay which has pointers saying: "Hey! Look at me...I’m a pun." It’s no pun – I mean, fun – when you have something that looks like a mathematical equation, and you have to sit down and solve it - take apart the constituents and recombine them - before you can get at the second meaning.

Coming back to the Safin, let me hazard a guess. I think it has to be read to mean: "So fine a game." But since the brackets are there, let me again guess that it should be possible to read it without the paranthesis. But what does "Safin a game" mean? Laboured wit is no wit at all. It nearly ruins my day to open the paper in the morning and come across a bad puzzle like this right on the front page. Must you be clever at all costs? The only saving grace here for me is that it has nothing to do with a tragic event. Well, wordplay happened there, too. Read the end of Welcome to the Real World.

+ The Good Times

I called up my cousin the other day, and we started talking about music. He told me, "Hey, I’ve got a few more mp3 CDs of old live recordings." Then he excitedly listed some of the artistes, before going into realistic mode. "We keep recording all these concerts, but will we ever manage to listen to them? As it is, there is no time for it, and I can’t see things getting any better. I don’t think I’m going to be able to listen to all this stuff in my lifetime; and neither are you. The one comforting thought is that if anyone wants to listen to it all later, it is available."

This was probably the fourth time we had this conversation. And every time it’s the same. And, in spite of everything, every time there are new mp3 concert acquisitions to talk about.

The other day, I was chatting with another cousin, a movie buff, and we started discussing DVDs. I told him about an offer on a website where they were offering blank DVDs for the equivalent of less than 20 rupees. He was skeptical, but checked immediately and came across an even better online deal. The next step was to place an order and have his friend in the US bring it over on his trip here. Meanwhile, I was going to meet him, and he gave me a list of VCDs to take along so that he could write them.

It wasn’t long before realism raised its head. "We keep copying these movies thinking we will see them later, but I can see the list only growing," he messaged me. Yes, of course. In fact, now CDs are so cheap that we would be tempted to write anything above reasonable suspicion and place it in the shelf. Earlier, it was books, then mp3s, now it’s movies. Availability is up and costs are so far down, there is really no need to discriminate. We told each other: in fact, given a choice between watching an excellent movie and writing five good ones, there wouldn’t be too much hesitation in choosing writing the five. The to-be-watched collection at home can only keep growing.

As my uncle put it, books, music and movies are all means of entertainment, keeping oneself occupied. The only change that seems to be happening is that instead of reading, hearing or watching seems to be overtaken by acquiring. The enjoyment or thrill seems to come a step earlier – from the process of acquisition. I guess that’s the price of easy access.

But what’s the problem with that, if the goal is to have a good time?