kuRai onRum illai.......
What differentiates music from a piece of poem? Both have their own aesthetic beauty. Is it the composition, the temper and ease with which it is rendered, the tone, the tune, what makes the authentic difference? There are sure songs which we cannot penetrate, like a clogged flap, but some songs are simply released, we can enter them and rather seal behind the surface. There we run into something that vibrates, shines, sparkles. To find the essence in the music we are obliged to stride back from the shell, withdraw deep inside, and leave in, farther in, silent and still. There we locate some thing humid, tranquil, and affluent in substance and it leaves a species of gentleness, an evidence of some thing perpetual on a nonviolent facade of stream, where frontier of time no longer exists.How often do we blend spirituality with a composition? It is habitually transformed to a superior rank of coherence with melodic co-existence. Krishna (or Lord Krishna) is a potent image in the Indian mythology. People of all ages can effortlessly bond themselves to the mould of Lord Krishna in one manner or other. Of the triumvirate, Vishnu stands for the perpetuator and his most popular incarnation legend is that of Krishna. For the public outlook of the ordinary man, this myth and icon is simply approachable and digest able. Be it the stealing of butter from the neighbourhood, or the ‘rasaleela’ among ‘Gopikas’, or the prowess against the uncle, as the legend says, the ruthless ‘Kamsa’, Krishna was always a vibrating veneration and lovely affection in the Indian faith.
The Tamil song ‘Kurai onRum illai’ (I have no regrets) sung by MS Subba lakshmi in her delightful lace of music and prayer was penned by C Rajagopalachari which depicts the purest notion of a commoner with all acidic regrets, with a split of human grief, but by a flair of dissolving them into private responses of an all in all novel worth, about the divine and his quest in the normal world. ‘Kurai OnRum Illai’ itself defines the intensity of craving in the subject’s (devotee’s) mind to the sovereign, the super power. There is no grievance, what ever she has, how ever she is, she is content, nothing further required, ‘I have no complaints’, the womanly voice repeats, mellifluously.
Kannan is the amiable boyhood insight of Lord Krishna, and while the female in the voice seeks to it, it reciprocates the maternal love in the term, which revitalizes the entire womanhood. When the pitch of the voice diminishes it arrives down to Govinda, a full-blown representation of Krishna, as it is professed amid the mass. Hence as a mother and as a child the woman within the singer, the woman inside the appeal is fulfilled with what she is and how she is.
It can be the voice from the behind, can be of the sightless, who is deprived of the elation of colours of the planet, even then the internal observe detains the merry dignity of the polite colours of her darling lord, the sense of care and possession of the Lord embraces the mood, and when she reiterates ‘kaNNukku Theriyaamal ninRaalum enakku, kuRai onRum illai’, with outshining modesty, clutches the uneasiness of truth as restricted by her own intellectual limits, and admits what she is given is worth it and does not argue any further.
When do we solicit? If we are in need; what if the requirements are recognized and met even before they are sought? Then what is the call for an asking? Venkatesan (or Balaji) is the South Indian unparalleled esteem of Lord Krishna, and Tirupati, the seat of him; he who stands elevated among the seven hills is the possessor of the entire affluence on earth. What is the valid need, if he is standing there to account my wishes, to answer my prayers, to wipe my tears, of asking any thing? It is a ceaseless contempt, and the female is fulfilled.
And she knows very well, when the Lord positions at the back, he stands behind the gloom of the worldly desires, and only those who comprise the beam of knowledge can attain him and she is not believing herself amongst them, admits that she is in the darkness and never treats herself one among the ‘maRai Othum NYaaniyar (those who read Vedas), she just aspires to be in the ordinary, among the humble and does not clamor the thought of any complaint. She is eternally happy.
She is acknowledging the primacy of God, the stature which she never dares to accomplish. ‘kalinaaLuk iRangi kallilE iRangi, silaiyaaga kOilil niRkinRaay kEsavA’ - You are standing on the rock, in this Kaliyuga, your build is enduring’, she declares. The woman uses the word ‘Varada’, though she seek no special blessings, and she very well knows that no power can stop him, and she is assured that when the mother of an ocean of blessings is standing In her life, why should she be complaining? The song ends with an eternal call to Govinda and proclaims that what you seek is within you.
As one of the commonest human being, chances are that we may watch a sunset and almost merge with it and inhale vivid happiness, as a normal music lover, we may listen to M.S.Subbulakshmi, singing ‘Kurai onRum illai’ and drop our self in the delight of every word, pitch and note of the song and almost sense elated to another edge of life and breathe the same contentment and of course, melt in tears of joy.
posted by arjun sagar at 3:15 pm
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