Kya Hai Mohabbat
I can’t wait for this one new song—with beautiful soulful vocals by Rahman—in Ek Deewana Tha, the hindi remake of Vinnaithaandi Varuvaayaa.
I can’t wait for this one new song—with beautiful soulful vocals by Rahman—in Ek Deewana Tha, the hindi remake of Vinnaithaandi Varuvaayaa.
Rahman of the early 90s at his modest studio-home, composing the classic Pongal theme.
Rahman’s self-imposed hiatus finally ended with Rockstar: a vibrant soundtrack with 14 original songs. Picking a favourite is near impossible, but Naadan Parindey would be up there for the way it opens with Rahman sounding so heavenly. Just listen to this live rendition and tell me I’m wrong.
What turns a prolific film composer into a restrained one? From dozens of new soundtracks every year over two decades, to a single new score annually is a dramatic change of pace.
I sense panic among some fans. It will be a long wait for that one A.R. Rahman score, but it needn’t be an agonising one. Just think of the time you will finally have to revisit the Maestro’s lesser-known compositions. His output over two decades is immense. There is bound to be new music hidden away in a background score, or in new interpretations, or in new improvisations at numerous live performances of the past.
Here’s an example. The 2010 Nobel Peace Prize Concert featured Mausam & Escape as you have never heard before, with Strings, Clarinet and Rahman on the Grand Piano. How is this not new? How is this not as good as a new soundtrack?
I can’t imagine a year without Rahman’s music. But if this will free Rahman to re-imagine his earlier compositions and explore new avenues, I will gladly wait for that one annual score.
It’s fascinating to me that new musical instruments continue to be invented, like The Harpejii, which Rahman seems keen to learn.
Undoubtedly, we’ll hear more of this very new, keyboard-like, electronic strings instrument. The future sounds good.
A poignant piece from Guru, played during the protagonist’s most trying times.
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
On India’s Independence Day, the only thing I like more than listening to Rahman’s Vande Mataram (1997) is its follow-up, Jana Gana Mana (2000).
“Desh Ka Salaam” was a vocals-only precursor, telecast live on national television throughout 15th August, 1999. The complete album, “Jana Gana Mana”, featured instrumental and vocal renditions of the National Anthem by many of India’s living legends of classical music. This epic coming-together of musical greats was telecast as a video on January 26, 2000, marking the 50th anniversary of the Indian Republic. Worth watching many times over, especially on a day like today.
Elaborate preludes and lilting interludes are Rahman’s speciality. Right from Roja, we’ve been enthralled by grand openings like the one for Yeh Haseen Vadiya or softer introductions such as the one for Taal Se Taal. These little instrumental pauses within songs heighten the effect of the base melody and keep us surprised till the very end. I think it’s the secret to Rahman’s music.
My favourite prelude of 2010 is undoubtedly Omana Penne’s. It’s a soothing introduction to one of the sweetest songs by Rahman in recent times. I never tire of hearing it, so I have this as my ringtone as well and I’ve made it available to anyone who wants it.
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
I spent the weekend obsessing over colours. It was for an upcoming site design, and there couldn’t be better music playing in the background than “Pachai Nirame” (Alaipayuthey, 2000), a song that is every bit about colour. From the visuals, to the lyrics, and the tune — it all sings praise for colour in our lives, in love, and on this good earth.
Sakiyae… Snehidhiyae… (O Companion… O Friend…)
Kaadhalil kaadhalil kaadhalil niramoondu, (In love there is colour.)
Sakiyae… snehidhiyae… (O Companion… O Friend…)
Yen anbae anbae oonakkum niramoondu, (There is colour in you.)
Pachai niramae, pachai niramae, (O green colour, O green colour,)
Ichai oottum pachai niramae, (The green that provokes my desire,)
Pullin sirippum pachai niramae, (The green of glittering (smiling) grass,)
Yenakku samatham tharumae… (It will say “yes” to me.)
Pachai niramae pachai niramae, (O green colour, O green colour,)
Elaiyin ilamai pachai niramae, (Th green in the youth of leaves,)
Oonthan narambum pachai niramae, (The green in your veins,)
Yenakku samatham tharumae… (It will say “yes” to me,)
Yenakku samatham tharumae… (It will say “yes” to me,)
Yenakku samatham tharumae. (It will say “yes” to me.)
Kilaiyil kaanum kiliyin mookku, (The beak of a beautiful parrot,)
Vidalai pennin vettrilai nakku, (The tongue of a young girl,)
Puttham puthithayy ratha roja, (A rose that has just blossomed,)
Boomi thodatha pillaiyin paatham, (A child’s feet untouched by earth,)
Ellaam sivappum oonthan kobam, (All that red shows in your anger,)
Ellaam sivappum oonthan kobam, (All that red shows in your anger.)
Anthivaanam varaikkum manjal, (The yellow of the evening sky,)
Agni kolathil pootha manjal, (The yellow within fire,)
Thangathodu janitha manjal, (The yellow that glitters in gold,)
Kandrai poovil kulitha manjal, (The yellow flower that smiles,)
Manjal manjal manjal, (Yellow, yellow, yellow,)
Maalai nilavin maragatha manjal, (The yellow of the evening moon,)
Ellam thangam oonthan nenjil, (It all resides in your heart.)
Ellaiyillaatha alli vannam, (The colour that has no borders,)
Mukilil illatha vaanin vannam, (The colour of the cloudless sky,)
Mayilin kaluthil vaalum vannam, (The colour on a peacock’s neck,)
Kuvalai poovil kulaitha vannam, (The colour of beautiful flowers,)
Ootha poovil ootriya vannam, (The colour that bathes in flowers,)
Ellaam saernthaan kannil minnum, (All these shine in your eyes,)
Ellaam saernthaan kannil minnum. (All these shine in your eyes.)
Iravin niramae iravin niramae, (The colour of night, the colour of night,)
Karkaalathin motha niramae, (The entire colour of a stormy day,)
Kaakkai siragil kaanum niramae, (The colour on a crow’s wing,)
Penmai aeluthum kanmai niramae, (The colour of a woman’s eyeliner,)
Veyilil paadum kuyilin niramae, (The colour of a bird singing before the sun,)
Ellaam sairnthu koonthal niramae, (It is all the colour of your hair,)
Ellaam sairnthu koonthal niramae, (It is all the the colour of your hair.)
Vellai niramae vellai niramae, (O white colour, o white colour,)
Malaiyil oodaiyum thumbai niramae, (The colour of clouds breaking rain,)
Vellai niramae vellai niramae, (O white colour, o white colour,)
Viliyil pathi oolla niramae, (The colour of half of your eyes,)
Malaiyil oodaiyum thumbai niramae, (It’s the colour of clouds breaking rain,)
Oonathu manasin niramae, (It’s the colour of your heart,)
Oonathu manasin niramae, (It’s the colour of your heart,)
Oonathu manasin niramae. (It’s the colour of your heart.)
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
Six years on, I still get goosebumps hearing this little anthem of Yuva. It inspires me each time with the ideals of the film’s protagonist, Michael Mukherjee.
You may recognise this as an instrumental variant of Dhakka Laga Bukka, which opens with Rahman singing his heart out:
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
Motivation often comes to me in the form of music. I’ve been a little down lately, struggling to find the time and energy to work on things I care about. “Jaage Hain” (Guru, 2007) helps me get through these moments.
Jaage hain dher thak,
(I have been awake till late,)
Hamein kuch dher sone dho.
(Let me sleep a little.)
Thodi si raat aur hai,
(There is still some night left,)
Subha to hone do.
(Let morning come.)
Adhe adhure khwaab jo,
(The incomplete dreams,)
Pure na ho sake,
(Which could not be fulfilled,)
Ek baar phir se neend mein,
(Once more in my sleep,)
Woh khwaab bone do.
(Shall these dreams be sowed.)
The only thing I like as much as Rahman’s music is Mani Ratnam’s films. Luckily, I don’t have to pick between the two because they’ve long collaborated to make my favourite music and my favourite films.
Here’s an insight into why the two work so well together. In a recent interview for his latest film, Raavan, Mani Ratnam explained how he relies on Rahman’s songs to be abstract with his narrative. (Skip to 6:26 in the video if it doesn’t automatically do so.)
If you liked this, you’ll love Part 2 of the interview.
A live rendition in three languages: “Anjali Anjali” in Telugu, “Dheeme Dheeme” and “Kal Nahin Ta” in Hindi, “Netru Illada” and “Katre” in Tamil, and Rahman all the way on his grand piano.
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
Anbe Sugama is perhaps Rahman’s most poignant duet. I love it to bits, especially the way it concludes with a piano and violin playing to a Carnatic tune.
If it’s a dance number, you have to dance to it. If it’s a soft tune, you have to cry. That deepness should be there in music.
http://whenrahmanspeaks.com/post/688806072/deepness-in-music