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By M.V.Ramakrishnan

Sunday, October 6, 2019

50-50 : The Vishnu Principle


Chandrayaan-2 :
     50-50 :  The Vishnu Principle
               No matter how close moonlander Vikram got to making a perfect
                touchdown, its chances of success were just 50-50 at every stage


"I've been telling you for 25 years!"  Prof. Vijay Vishnu exclaimed. "The only chances of anything happening ever, if they aren't zero or 100 per cent, are 50-50, and nothing else!  This fellow is just talking rubbish!"

My distinguished long-time friend, who is a professor emeritus in the Old Madras University, has a passion for perfect logic and is constantly disturbed by the liberties everyone tends to take with facts and figures.

We were talking -- like millions of people all over the world, perhaps -- about India's second moonshot Chandrayaan-2, which flew so flawlessly all the way across space to the South polar region of the moon carrying the lander Vikram, which seems to have tragically collapsed just a couple of kilometers above the chosen landing spot on the lunar terrain.

What made Prof. Vishnu so angry was some self-styled expert saying on Twitter that since the distance from the earth to the moon was about 400,000 kilometers, the lander had a 200,000 - to - 1 chance of getting down to the surface safely and properly, but still somehow failed at the very end of its amazing journey.  

That was just an amusing joke, of course ;  but the good professor had drained so much of his time and energy questioning constant distortions of the concept of probability that he wasn't able to see the humorous aspect of the comment in question. 

"That's pure, unvarnished  nonsense!"  he declared.  "You do agree with my 50-50 Principle, don't you?"

Of course I do!  In fact, I know his argument by heart because I've heard it so often ;  moreover, I earnestly believe in the theory myself, and can explain it with additional inputs of my own.  So here we go :-

Mirror image

The Vishnu Principle states:  The probability of anything happening in any given situation, if it isn't either zero or 100 per cent, is invariably 50-50, and never anything else.

All statements like “There’s a 60 % chance of success” or “The patient has a 90 % chance of surviving the operation”  are logically flawed and unsustainable, but such predictions are constantly being made.  

They aren’t valid even statistically, though they may seem to be so.  For the figures only recall what had actually happened in a certain set of past cases, and do not really foresee what's likely to happen in the next case, or even in the next set consisting of the same number of cases.

Let us say A is an average senior citizen.  Space travel is not yet a routine activity, and isn't likely to be so in the near future, so the chances of A travelling to the moon are zero.  

All men and women must die sooner or later, so the chances of A passing away eventually are 100 %.  But when the doctors tell A that he or she has a 90 % chance of surviving an impending heart surgery, they’re getting it all wrong. The basis for their pep talk is that in the last 1o cases (let’s say) only one patient died, and 9 survived.  But the same ratio may or may not recur in the next 1o cases.  Perhaps two patients will die;  if that happens the doctors will start saying that the chances of survival are 85 %, since 17 patients out of 20 lived on.  

And after 100 cases they may well say:  “Only 20 cases went wrong, so you have an 80 % chance of survival”.  Thus, a retrospective view of facts relating to a variable past period is given a statistical twist and becomes an untenable prediction of the shape of things to come.

In other words, the mirror image of a given past picture is simply projected as a future scenario!

Which side?

But just for argument’s sake, let us assume that the ratio will be the same in the next set of 1o cases as it was in the previous set of ten.  Even then the question arises :  will A be the one who will collapse, or someone else?  Similar will be the uncertainty facing patients B to J lined up in the wait-list.  For every one of them, the chances of survival in the given situation are precisely 50-50, no more and no less! 

This will be true not only in the beginning, but even as the operations progress, till one of the patients dies.  And, of course, if the first nine patients survive, the last one will be the one who must die ;   but even that may not happen because neither the patient nor the surgeons may have the courage to go ahead with the surgery.  It only shows how precarious such predictions can be.

Or consider the following statement in Wikipedia:  "The estimated long-term prevalence of retinal detachment after cataract surgery is in the range of 5 to 16 per 1000 cataract operations."   

 Supposing you have just undergone a cataract operation ;  on which side of the odds will you be?  Of course, you have no idea!  Which is the same thing as saying that your own (and anyone else's) chances of suffering retinal detachment after cataract surgery are 50-50, and nothing else! 

Logic trap

This kind of logic trap is almost universal in the medical field, and many eminent surgeons and researchers all over the world keep falling into it constantly.  Even Dr. Christiaan Barnard, the pioneering heart-transplant wizard, seems to have been no exception!

The given examples are very elementary, of course, but the same unassailable logic governs even highly complex and intricate situations arising in the affairs of all individuals, organizations and nations, not just in the medical field, but in all spheres of life -- including space research and exploration, of course.

Now let us take the specific case of Chandrayaan-2, and try to imagine how we might be arguing if we fell into a logic trap of the same kind.  There were 15 crucial stages from launch to landing (launch ;   5 earth-orbit and 5 moon-orbit maneuvers for escape/capture ;   orbiter-lander separation ;   2 de-orbit maneuvers ;   powered descent).  So we would have progressively calculated the chances of Vikram's successful landing as follows :- 
  
Just before launch :  7 % (because something might go wrong with any one of the 15 crucial steps).  Just before going into moon orbit :  11 % (9 steps to go).  Just before separation :  25%  (only 4 steps remain).  Just before starting descent :  50 %  (last step for landing). 


Did I hear you screaming :  "That's all very cleverly said, but it doesn't make any sense!  If anything had gone wrong at any stage, there would have been no eventual landing, would there?  So the odds would have been 50-50 at every stage, wouldn't they?" 

Well, I didn't say that -- you did!   And that's precisely what the Vishnu Principle says :  The probability of anything happening in any given situation, if it isn't either zero or 100 per cent, is invariably 50-50, and never anything else.


_________________________

PostScript

ISRONAUTICS


For my reflections on India's first moonshot and other recent adventures of the Indian Space Research Organization, please see the following posts :-


          Bravo, ISRO! Bravo, NASA!   
               Destination Mars : Bravo, ISRO! Bravo, India!
                     India Joins Exclusive And Elusive Cryogenix Club  
                         India Now Joins The Elusive and Elite Mars Club Also!
                                 MOM, Mars And Comet : Close Encounter Of A Cosmic Kind

Saturday, December 29, 2018

Adventurous Saga Of Aruna Sairam

Every year the ultimate day-dream of every highly-accomplished Carnatic musician comes true for just one of them, in the form of the title of 'Sangeetha Kalaanidhi', awarded by the prestigious Music Academy in Madras (now called Chennai).  The Sanskrit-Tamil expression literally means 'Music Art Treasure', and can be freely translated as 'Cultural Wealth of Music'.

The distinguished musician presides over all the events taking place in the Academy during the fabulously massive music season which blows like a hurricane across the city all through the winter month of Maargazhi, in  December-January.  For an insightful analysis of the unique extravaganza, please see :

     Winter Music Festival In Madras . . . (condensed)

      Massive Winter Music Season In Mecca . . . (original)


This year's Kalaanidhi is vocalist Aruna Sairam.  Exactly 30 years ago I had written a rave review in the New Delhi edition of THE HINDU, about a concert she gave in the Capital as a visiting artist from Bombay where she was based.  I didn't hear her music for a long time after that ;  but both of us having settled down in Madras eventually, I've been able to attend many of her concerts from 2007, and I've written about them in glowing terms in my column Musicscan in the THE HINDU.

So then, here are 16 reviews which project the adventurous saga of Aruna Sairam on a very wide screen. (In this blog I usually provide a glossary and annotations for the benefit of international readers who aren't likely to be familiar with some names and expressions figuring in the texts ;  but this collection is mainly meant for enthusiastic lovers of Carnatic music, so I am skipping what might be a distraction for them). Please also see the PostScript I've added after these texts.


* * * * *

THE HINDU, New Delhi, 23 Dec. 1988

Colorful pallavi creates panic


Creeping at a snail's pace along the road leading from the southernmost bridge towards the trans-Yamuna colonies, I was afraid that I was going to miss the vocal recital of visiting artist Aruna Sairam of Bombay, organized by the East Delhi Music Circle in the Guruvayurappan temple in Mayur Vihar on a bitterly cold evening last week.  There was an excruciating traffic jam congesting the highway, and it was 7-30 p.m when I reached the venue.  Much to my relief (or was it disappointment?), the concert had not yet started, as the young violinist Sunder Rajan had also not arrived.  Later on I learnt that he had been trapped in the same traffic crisis.
 
The singer was to catch the Tamil Nadu Express bound for Madras at 10-45 p.m., and she had very little time before her when she began the recital at 8 p.m.  But the sight of the small audience which had waited patiently for nearly two hours seemed to kindle her spirit, and she gave a fine performance, well assisted by Sunder Rajan and the mriangam-player V. Raghuraman.  She had some trouble with her voice in the chill weather, but controlled it well with frequent doses of hot water poured from a vacuum flask.

Such was the rapport Aruna established with the listeners that she seemed to become quite unaware of the limited time passing.  The organizers became restless when she took up a brilliant elaboration of Kraharapriya after 9 p.m.  They got really worried when she followed it up with a thaanam, and they panicked when she started a colorful pallavi.
   
But she just ignored their frantic signals and sang on and on in a leisurely way -- choosing, of all things, the first stanza of the Thyagaraja krithi 'Chakkani Raja-maargamulu', which wouldn't bear any condensation. The marvelous exercise was consolidated by a fulsome chain of svaras in raaga-maalika.

The singer somehow managed to conclude the recital after 9-45 p.m., and dashed towards the waiting taxi. 

We have read stories about how some handicapped persons, in the process of using their will-power to overcome their weakness, actually end up by accomplishing truly great things.  To this encouraging literature I am glad to add the story of a talented musician's superb performance in the face of such extremely trying circumstances. 


* * * * *


THE HINDU, Chennai

MUSICSCAN,  23 Feb. 2007

Majestic procession
 

It was a bitterly cold winter evening in Delhi 18 years ago, and Aruna Sairam from Bombay was to sing in a suburban temple in Mayur Vihar, far away from the New Delhi railway station where she was to catch the Tamil Nadu Express leaving for Madras at 10-45 p.m. The violinist had been trapped in an awful traffiic jam on a congested bridge across the Yamuna, and the concert could begin only at 8 o'clock, which left very little time for her to sing.

But what a marvelous performance it turned out to be! A small but earnest gathering had waited patiently and hopefully for two hours to hear her recital, and she must have felt she owed them something special in return. Totally ignoring the frantic signals of the organizers who were getting into a state of panic, she rendered a colorful raagam-thaanam-pallavi in Kharaharapriya in a very leisurely style, choosing the first stanza of Thyagaraja's composition, "Chakkani Raja" for the lyric, followed by a sparkling string of swaras in several ragas.

Somehow she managed to conclude the recital just before 10 p.m. and rushed to the waiting taxi.  I don't know whether Aruna was able to catch the train for Madras that cold and memorable night in Delhi, but she didn't certainly miss the boat for the hearts of music lovers in Madras or anywhere else!

Year after year, as she has steadily grown in stature as a musician, she has recruited more and more admirers wherever she happens to perform regularly. No wonder the spacious outdoor venue of Hamsadhwani was overflowing with eager rasikas when she sang there recently. Matching their consistent adoration with her characteristically intense commitment, she gave a profoundly moving performance likely to be remembered for a long time.

Meditative style

What makes Aruna Sairam's recitals so memorable is the meditative and soulful quality of her music, which is the result of a beneficial combination of several significant factors, including the influence of her great teacher Brinda.

Endowed with a rich, low-flung voice which is admirably suited to the extremely slow tempo she likes to adopt, she explores the subtle nuances of melodies and songs in a calm and unhurried manner, which enables her to project the spiritual vision of the classical composers on a very vast screen. Her overall bearing and stately style forcefully remind us of the monumental music of M.D. Ramanathan.
Quite predictably, just as in the case of MDR's recitals, the highlights of the Hamsadhwani concert (`Sri Satyanarayanam, Sabhapathikku Veru Deivam,' `O Rangasayee') came and passed before us like a majestic procession of the divine images. In the Subhapanhuvarali krithi, Muthuswami Dikshitar conveys a profound sentiment with a simple phrase : Sarvam Vishnu Mayam. In the Khambodi song,Thyagaraja is lost in wonder singing in praise of Lord Ranganatha of Srirangam. In both cases the grandeur of the ragas is matched by the depth of devotion that the words convey.

Aruna deserves a bouquet for invoking the true spirit and divine message of the songs, to touch the hearts of a thousand spellbound rasikas.The singer owed much to the excellent support provided by all her accompanists: H.N. Bhaskar (violin), J. Vaidyanathan (mridangam), S. Kartick (ghatam), and B.S. Purushottam (kanjira).


*  *  *  *  *

MUSICSCAN, 21 Dec. 2007  

Truly glorious!


Aruna Sairam is quite used to attracting a full house wherever she happens to be singing these days. But even by her own usual standards, the highly excited gathering in the premises of the Chettinad Vidyashram School near San Thome could not be fully accommodated even in the very spacious Muthiah Hall there.

The program was part of the winter series of Carnatic music concerts organised by Jaya TV, and television cameras were capturing the whole scene, making the occasion extremely glamorous.
The recital had a sharp focus on Lord Muruga, so most of the songs were in Tamil. After an initial spell in Sanskrit — a slokam from Subrahmania Bhujangam, a Dikshitar krithi and a composition by V.V.Srivatsa — Aruna rendered a couple of songs composed by Papanasam Sivan, a pallavi with her own Tamil lyric, a Thiruppugazh verse, and Madurai Somu’s favourite song ‘Enna Kavi.’
She had excellent support from the accompanists, H.N.Bhaskar (violin), J. Vaidyanathan (mridangam) and S. Kartick (ghatam).

There’s invariably a stage in Aruna Sairam’s performances when she achieves a heart-to-heart communication with the adoring listeners, which makes them all forget her glamorous personality and concentrate intensely on her earnest music.

In the concert under review, that point was reached in the course of the unconventional raagam-thaanam-pallavi.

Midway through the pulsating thaanam which followed a calm and meditative elaboration of Thodi, Aruna switched over to a resounding mode with strong percussion accompaniment.
That set up a lively prelude for the pallavi and a dynamic tempo for the swara-prasthaaram featuring a string of six melodies (Sunaada-vinodhini, Ataana, Ranjani, Darbaari-kannada, Senchuruti and Aabheri).

Aruna has an intriguing way of infusing a worshipful flavor even into a normal series of improvised swaras.

On this occasion, after each colorful spell of sol-fa notes she inserted a line of her own Tamil lyrics visualising Lord Muruga as enshrined in one of six sacred locations in South India, which greatly enhanced the emotional element. And singing the whole sequence in a soaring crescendo, she took the spellbound audience on a whirlwind tour of Thirupparan-kundram, Thiruchendur, Swamimalai, Pazhani, Thirutthani and Pazhamudhir-solai, giving us some flashing impressions of the youthful God.

That was the stage when the self-conscious rasikas even lost sight of the television cameras, and just swam in a strong current of sacred music which flowed gloriously on. According to the Oxford and Chambers dictionaries, the word ‘glory’ means (among other things) ‘great beauty,’ ‘magnificence,’ ‘resplendent brightness,’ ‘summit of attainment,’ and ‘worship and thanksgiving offered to God.’
Judged even by the most severe standards, Aruna’s performance was truly glorious in every sense of the term as defined above.


*  *  *  *  *

MUSICSCAN, 17 Dec. 2009

Magic moments and an awesome oeuvre

Like a cluster of comets they're all suddenly visible together on the Chennai sky in the winter months, having gone away somewhere on their respective orbits in space during the rest of the year. We are, of course, talking about the most popular vidwans and vidushis of Carnatic music. Some of us get to see many of them in a particular Sabha where we happen to be regular members or have anchored ourselves with season tickets. But some of us rush here and there to buy expensive and usually hard-to-get daily tickets to attend several concerts of the same set of our favourite musicians.

One of the most popular singers who invariably performs in a full or overflowing house even in the largest concert halls in the city is vocalist Aruna Sairam. And wherever she sings, she usually casts a spell on the listeners midway through the recital. The point where the rasikas collectively feel transfixed in a mesmerised state of mind differs from concert to concert, depending on the given ambience and audience; but it doesn't normally fail to materialize.

In Aruna's concert in the Maargazhi Mahaa Utsavam organized by Jaya TV at Kumara Raja Muthiah Hall in South Chennai, the crucial stage was reached when she began singing ‘Jaago Thumi Jaago!' following a soulful rendering of Papanasam Sivan's Tamil krithi ‘Unnai Allaal Vere Gadi' in Kalyani. ‘Jaago Thumi Jaago', the beautiful Bengali song, is rendered before dawn every day in the Kaalighat temple in Kolkata, calling on the Goddess Kaali to awaken. It is quite unfamiliar in Carnatic music circles today; but is no longer likely to remain so, because Aruna has just created yet another favourite number for which her admirers are bound to clamour again and again.

Of course, prominent among the rasikas' favourite songs in Aruna's repertoire are the Maraathi devotional songs known as ‘abhangs.' Usually these are sung in praise of Lord Vittala, but there are also worshipful abhangs on Lakshmi ;  and Aruna sang one of these, composed by Samartha Ramdas, adding to it part of a traditional Maraathi folk chant on Kolhapuri Lakshmi. This accorded well with the theme of the whole concert, which was exclusively devoted to the Supreme Goddess.

A few days later Aruna sang a resounding Vittala song towards the conclusion of her performance at the Krishna Gana Sabha. In that hallowed venue of Carnatic music, the magic moment of mesmerism had arrived during a monumental rendering of Thyagaraja's krithi ‘Kaddanuvaariki' in Thodi. So intense was the singer's involvement in the effort that the swara improvisation progressively became a stormy crescendo which made the audience breathless, and not the singer!

Superb and dynamic accompaniment was provided on these two occasions by violinist H.N. Bhaskar and percussionists J. Vaidhyanathan, S. Kartick and S.V. Ramani; and Aruna Sairam certainly owes them a vote of thanks for enabling her to shine so brightly.


* * * * *

MUSICSCAN, 2 April 2010

A question of integrity

The task of reviewing Aruna Sairam's unusual concert in the superb auditorium at the Seva Sadan's Harrington Road premises is a very intricate one, because the context of the event as well as the performance had many different dimensions, mainly social, cultural, national and spiritual.
The highly-priced concert was organised by a couple of institutions concerned with a pension fund meant for providing a lifeline to languishing musicians -- viz., the Interface (described as ‘social investment managers') and Global Adjustment Services (‘a relocation, realty and cross-cultural services company').

The event was organized on a grand scale, with special stage settings by Thota Tharani and colored lighting effects, and a commentary in English provided by Ranjini Manian, the social service entrepreneur who runs Global Adjustments.

Unity in cultural, national and spiritual terms was the theme of the show, and songs in a dozen different languages were featured. Of course, all Carnatic music vocalists are usually familiar with songs in six languages -- the four Southern ones (Telugu, Tamil, Kannada and Malayalam) as well as Sanskrit and Hindi (the last one usually involving ‘bhajans'). Aruna has also consistently rendered abhangs in Maraathi in her Carnatic music recitals, and occasionally taken up devotional songs in other Indian languages such as Bengali.

All the languages mentioned above naturally figured in the concert.

The singer had only to add the immensely popular national song ‘Vaishnava Janato' in Gujarathi, a Sikh hymn in Punjaabi, a traditional musical prayer in Oriya, and an ode to the Virgin Mary in Italian, and presto! The score was a dozen!

Perfect pronunciation

Among the factors which ensured the authentic tenor of the whole performance were Aruna's perfect pronunciation of all the selected languages and her earnest and intimate association with various musical cultures and traditions of India, as well as the Gregorian chants of medieval Italy.

Another notable feature of the event was that four Northern musicians, playing the harmonium, thabla, pakhawaj, and a set of minor percussion instruments (such as folk drums, cymbals, bells and jingles, with names like chimta, ghungru and manjira) had been brought over from Mumbai to supplement standard Carnatic instruments, viz., the violin, mridangam and ghatam.  This further enhanced the authentic sound of the music drawn from such wide-ranging sources. (There was the Carnatic flute also).

It is difficult to identify any particular song as the highlight of the recital, because all of them were rendered with an equal measure of élan and exuberance. However, given the central theme of the concert and the prevailing communal tensions all over the world, one must say that the most moving song was Bharathiyar's 'Allah! Allah! Allah!', said to have been composed by the immortal Tamil poet standing in front of a mosque not far from where he lived, in Chennai.

Universal appeal

The spellbinding impact the music seemed to have had on the gathering was an eloquent tribute to Aruna Sairam as a Carnatic musician with universal appeal.

But what about thousands of Aruna's admirers who turn up regularly at her Carnatic music recitals, and who couldn't afford this performance? Surely it will be a great idea for the organisers to let some leading Sabhas in Chennai and elsewhere re-enact the show. Of course, that would perhaps mean that the expensive Northern instrumental support cannot be imported.

But even with the usual Carnatic instruments -- with the addition of just a morsing or kinnaaram -- this diva is quite capable of moving the spirit of the listeners. For ultimately it's a question of the integrity of the music, and not merely its packaging.


* * * * * 

MUSICSCAN, 15 Oct. 2010

Let Thodi come live!

It is well known that even some of the seniormost Carnatic vidwans and vidushis used to be intimidated by the redoubtable music critic (the late) Subbudu, whose acid comments were balanced by his sparkling sense of humour, whether he wrote in English or in Tamil. But he could also be extremely lavish in his praise, when he so wished.

One of the most memorable compliments ever paid by Subbudu was his breezy statement that if he was exiled to an isolated island, the only things he would want to take with him would be some betel-leaves/nuts and tobacco, and an LP record of Sudha Ragunathan's music. (I am quoting roughly from memory, and not accurately from records; but this was more or less what he declared).

I don't know whether Subbudu ever took any of Sudha's records along with him when he travelled, to listen in blissful solitude; but I have certainly brought a few selected CDs with me half way around the globe, to the U.S., to enjoy them in peace when I am not playing with my grandchildren, watching television or reading.

One of these selections is the first of a twin-set of CDs titled, ‘Arunambujam,' featuring the compositions of Ambujam Krishna, sung by Aruna Sairam. And the focus of my interest is the Tamil song, ‘Kandathum Kanavo' in Thodi, on Track 4. Taking up the phrase, ‘Nan Unaik Kandathum Kanavo, Rama!' (Was it a dream that I saw you in, O Rama!) as a refrain Aruna melts your heart with one of the finest niravals in Thodi I've ever heard in my life.

I wish to hear it again live in all its glory in some concert hall in the coming winter season! Will it come true or will it remain only a dream? 


* * * * * 

MUSICSCAN, 31 Dec. 2010

A vision so colourful

The basic framework of Aruna Sairam's kutcheris is so substantial that she may have run the risk of letting her music sound too heavy, if she hadn't developed certain effective methods of levitation which lift the listener's spirit and invariably gives him or her a wonderful vision of mystic beauty.
One might be tempted to think that it is the extremely colourful manner of her presenting a string of attractive songs in the concluding section of her recitals which accounts for this amazing phenomenon. Such an impression is true to some extent, but that's not the whole truth. The majestic progression of her music in the initial and middle stages of the concert is a major factor which conditions the listener's soul to get stirred properly by those lively songs -- which, in turn, is due to the fact that Aruna infuses her music from beginning to end with a powerful and transparent spirit of devotion
.
Popular composition

The climax of Aruna Sairam's recital was ‘Chinnanchiru Kiliye Kannamma.' This extremely popular classical song has been heard in our concert halls on countless occasions, but I've never heard it rendered in a more heart-warming manner.

It was preceded by a traditional Kaanthimati Temple verse, ‘Varaathirundal,' with a similar theme; and according to Aruna, the legendary dancer Balasaraswati's depiction of the sentiment was the source of her inspiration.

Earlier, she had projected other wonderful images of the Goddess in several krithis -- especially Shyama Shastri's ‘Palinchu Kamakshi' in Madhyamavati (which was the main number of the concert), and Ramamurthi Rao's ‘Shringeri Sharada' -- and brief slokams/verses rendered as preludes (‘Jaya Jaya Kamakshi' and ‘Sweta Padmaasana').

And before them came lovely versions of Ambujam Krishna's ‘Kandathum Kanavo' in Thodi, and Bhadrachala Ramadas's ‘Ennagaanu' in Panthuvarali. One might as well mention here that the concert began with an earnest Thiruppaavai verse!

Aruna was accompanied sensitively (as usual) by H.N. Bhaskar on the violin, J. Vaidyanathan on the mridangam and S.V. Ramani on the ghatam.


* * * * *

MUSICSCAN, 20 Oct. 2011
                                   

Triple A for Aruna

Aruna Sairam's special concert organised at the Music Academy's acoustically marvellous main hall on Sunday last was in connection with the release of her latest CD featuring a set of seven Abhangs, produced and distributed by Nadham Music Media.

At a brief function, the first CD was presented to Leela Samson, director, Kalakshetra, by veteran Tamil cinema director K. Balachander.

Aruna Sairam rendered all the songs figuring in the CD, as well as a few others, in a memorable performance which turned out to be as spirited as it was spiritual.

Aruna has succeeded in creating an authentic sound effect in the CD by having several North Indian instruments, such as the sitar, harmonium, Hindustani flute, thabla, pakhwaj, dholaks, dholki and cymbals as accompaniments.

North meets South

In the concert under review, the same instruments (minus the flute) were featured, supplemented by the Carnatic violin, mridangam and ghatam.

An interesting and not very obvious fact in this context is that all the Northern instruments were also played by competent musicians based in Chennai as recording artists (mainly from the film industry).
Some of the rousing devotional songs in Maraathi which effectively transcended the language and secular barriers and held a very large cosmopolitan audience spellbound and spiritually moved for more than an hour were compositions by Sant Namdev (‘Teertha Vittala,' ‘Bhaktha Jana Vathsale'); Sant Eknath (‘Majhe Majhe Pandhari,' ‘Omkaara Swaroopa'); Sant Jaanabhai (‘Dalitha Kaanditha,' ‘Pandharichya Raaya') and Sant Ramadas (‘Kadaakadani').

In addition to the above songs, all of which figure in the CD, Aruna rendered a Tamil verse from the ancient music of the Aazhwars (‘Pachchai Maamalai Pol Meni'), and demonstrated the striking sentimental and lyrical resemblance it has with the Maraathi song, ‘Savale Sundara Roopa Manohara,' by Sant Thukaram, which happens to be one of the abhangs, Aruna is fond of featuring in her Carnatic music recitals.

The fascinated audience left the auditorium in a euphoric mood.

The performance warranted a triple A rating -- Aruna's Abhangs were Awesome!


 * * * * *

MUSICSCAN, 5 April 2012


Delightful soirée

Sri Ariyakkudi Music Foundation organized a cultural  soirée of song and dance at the Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan. Audiences were treated to a fine Kathak performance by Sharmishta Mukherjee and a concert by Aruna Sairam.

The evening started with a short but resounding naagaswaram recital by Thiru-meignaanam Brothers (Ayyappan and Meenakshi-sundaram), accompanied forcefully by Thiruvalaputhur Kaliamurthy on the thavil.

This was followed by an impressive performance by Sharmishta and her troupe comprising four other women and two men.

The cleverly-conceived show effectively integrated Bengali and English poetry (of Tagore and Shelley) as well as Rabindra Shangeet and Western music (Tagore/Vivaldi).

This didn't come as a surprise really because the Ariyakkudi Music Foundation seems to be currently stretching its own mission beyond Carnatic music and traditional artistic boundaries.

The graceful movements of Sharmishta and her colleagues had a universal appeal which tastefully blended music, poetry and language. The response of the audience to the rather unusual performance was remarkably warm.

Pleasing the rasika

Commencing her vocal recital well beyond 9 p.m., Aruna Sairam wisely chose to render a kriti in Kalyani in a concise manner, and then gave the rasikas what they were clamoring for -- a couple of abhangs, a unique thillaana and a Kannan song.

All told, it was quite a delightful soirée of song and dance.


* * * * *

MUSICSCAN, 12 July 2012

Spiritual transfusion

“It is necessary for us to reconcile in our minds the apparent contradiction between artistic tradition and innovation and the evolutionary relationship which exists between them. This is a universal phenomenon, which is as complex as the evolution of life itself. Art is also a living organism, which needs to renew itself in order to survive . . .  Innovation, therefore, can never be forbidden. Obviously it would be impossible for anyone to draw an arbitrary line somewhere and say: ‘Thus far, and no further!’ In the last analysis, it all depends only on who innovates, and how . . .  (‘Innovative base of tradition’, Musicscan, Oct. 9, 2009).

“. . .  Such experiments in innovation can result in fascinating and permissible performances only if the musicians who undertake them are not only well accomplished, but actually function at the highest level of imagination, excellence and integrity. In the case of Carnatic music, it is vitally important that the spiritual quality of the music is never sacrificed.”  ('The logic of fusion', Musicscan, Oct. 4, 2010)

I couldn’t help recalling the above opinions expressed by me in this column on past occasions, as I sat mesmerized by Aruna Sairam’s highly innovative vocal recital (labelled ‘fusion’) at the Music Academy’s main auditorium last Saturday evening. The event was organized by the Cancare Foundation, to raise funds for providing effective care to cancer patients.

The main artistic objective of the concert was to demonstrate the amazing melodic similarities between the ongoing classical Hindu tradition of Carnatic music and the historically significant Gregorian Chant, which was the Christian liturgical music tradition of Central and Western Europe during the medieval era preceding the 17th century.

One of the fascinating aspects of Aruna Sairam’s wide-angled musical vision is the way she strives to share the ecstatic experiences and authentic impressions she gains in different, far-flung musical environments with the rasikas, who flock to her concerts.

Thus, with the lilting ‘Kaalinga Narthana Thillaana’ (which she has made so popular that music lovers everywhere clamor for it endlessly) Aruna conveys the immense thrill she feels whenever she actually visits the sacred spot in a temple in Oothukkaadu village, where there’s a lovely statue depicting Lord Krishna as a young boy dancing on the hood of the vicious serpent Kaaliya. Similarly, with the rousing Bengali song ‘Jaago Thumi Jaago,’ she gives us a glimpse of the devotional fervor, which overflows in a Durga temple at Kaalighat, in Kolkota, at dawn every morning, as the song is recited by a chorus of devotees to wake up the Goddess.

In the same vein, Aruna tried to recall in the concert under review her exciting experience of singing certain Carnatic ragas inside several churches and concert halls in Western Europe, precisely matching the melodies of some Gregorian-Chant verses recited by the distinguished French musician Dominique Vellard, in partnership with whom she has been exploring the intriguing similarities between the melodic patterns prevailing in these totally unrelated musical traditions.

The highlights of the concert were a couple of Gregorian-Chant songs titled, ‘Ave Vergene’ and ‘Rosa Das Rosas,’ with Latin and archaic Italian lyrics respectively. These songs are set to medieval European melodies, which have a close resemblance to the Carnatic ragas, Kalyani and Bhimplas. And Aruna, who rendered the Latin and Italian texts with apparently high fidelity, matched them with Aadi Sankara’s Sanskrit verse ‘Shabda Brahma Mayee’ in Kalyani and Bharatiyar’s Tamil song ‘Vellai Thaamarai’ in Bhimplas.

While the resemblance between the parallel flow of these mutually alien melodies was quite remarkable, no less significant was the close affinity between the devotional spirits of the two different musical systems and cultures. Aruna’s true achievement was to preserve the authentic character and mystic spirit of both traditions equally well, while letting them also crystallize into a common idiom which was saturated with Bhakthi. In this sense, the whole exercise was, in my opinion, a case of spiritual transfusion, rather than mere ‘fusion.’

Apart from the phenomenon of similar Carnatic-Gregorian melodic streams, there were certain other significant aspects of this unique performance, including the overall theme (Divine Mother) and the splendid instrumental component. Let us take a close look at them in the next essay in this column.

               (To be continued)


* * * * *

MUSICSCAN, 12 Aug. 2012

                             
Horizons and hazards of 'fusion'


Continuing my review of Aruna Sairam's recent concert containing elements of both Carnatic and Western music ( Musicscan, Spiritual transfusion, July 12), I had intended to conclude the comments this week. Meanwhile, colleagues at the Online desk were good enough to insert, alongside the above article, a clickworthy list of 20 earlier essays in this column which had analyzed the highly complex issue of 'fusion' music rather extensively.

For the benefit of readers who may not have the time or inclination to go through all that voluminous material, I wish to reproduce here some selected paragraphs from those articles (which, though not in chronological order, somehow sum up the whole scenario in a logical sequence). Accordingly, the concert review is bound to overflow into the next article in Musicscan!

Horizons of exploration

"The necessity to introduce legitimate innovations, which do not dispense with the basic elements and principles of a musical tradition, arises mainly from two important factors. One of them is the increasing sense of monotony created by endlessly recurring features, and the constant need to find more exciting methods of performance. The other factor is the progressive and dramatic transformation of the social and cultural environment caused by successive technological revolutions -- reflected in the lifestyles and attitudes of the musicians and music-lovers -- which creates an urge to trim some conventional modes of performance and introduce some new perspectives."   [The logic of fusion, October 4, 2010].

"And if they happen to have a very wide musical vision which transcends the system in which they are functioning as successful performing artists, their exploration too tends to cross the borders and enters the frontiers of some other system, particularly when there are some elements common to both . . . That’s the point where they come across like-minded musicians belonging to the other side, and begin to visualize collaborative ventures like North-South jugalbandis (in the case of Carnatic and Hindustani music, which have many similar and almost identical elements), and experiments in East-West integration (as when Indian classical music is harmonized with jazz, or even with Western classical music)." [Of credentials and criteria, July 6, 2007].

Hazards of experiments

"Indian classical musicians even at average levels of competence are nowadays having more and more opportunities to visit Western countries on the invitation of the ever-growing Indian communities there, and they find it quite easy to line up some ordinary foreign musicians to join them in a free-for-all musical merry-go-round. And back home in India, of course, their CV and image get boosted by cryptic references to their ‘experience in fusion'. Who is to review and critically evaluate their activities abroad?" [Colors of sound, July 25, 2008].

"Far more alarming is the fact that even some reputed and accomplished Carnatic musicians tend to fall into a ‘fusion trap' and embark on such ventures without a proper perspective, the damage caused to the culture of Carnatic music being in direct proportion to their high accomplishment and reputation. One can say, 'Go slow on going global!'  But who is to confront them all and enforce restraint, and how?" [The fusion trap, August 19, 2010].

"Of course, many new trends can be extremely damaging and must be discouraged. But the dividing line between progress and perversion in all visual and performing arts is so thin that it is often almost invisible . . . There’s no hard-and-fast rule in this regard, and every manifestation of change must be judged on the basis of its own merits. And naturally, you must be a very imaginative and fair judge if your verdict is to be valid and valuable." [Thyagaraja Jazz Suite, June 22, 2007].

"We would certainly like our adventurous musical ambassadors to perform in their own country now and then with their foreign collaborators, and subject their credentials to our critical scrutiny." [Alien connections: why, who and how? August 2, 2007].

Mystic vision of fusion

In such an extremely intricate scenario, it must have taken great courage of conviction for Aruna Sairam -- who is a leading exponent of our sacred classical music in its purest form -- to give us such a transparent view of her experiment, right here in the Mecca of Carnatic music. I do find her mystic vision of 'fusion' truly admirable, and I hope I have the proper credentials for saying so!

          (to be continued)


* * * * *

MUSICSCAN, 23 Sept. 2012


Western colors


“Aruna’s true achievement was to preserve the authentic character and mystic spirit of both traditions equally well, while letting them also crystallize into a common idiom which was saturated with Bhakthi. In this sense, the whole exercise was, in my opinion, a case of spiritual transfusion, rather than mere ‘fusion’.”

That’s how I had summed up my impressions of Aruna Sairam’s presentation of the intriguing similarity between the melodic patterns of Carnatic music and those of the medieval West European musical tradition of Gregorian chants, in a recent article . . .  There were certain other important elements and aspects of the concert under review, which I had intended to discuss subsequently. But as things turned out actually, in the next article I was tempted to recall several significant comments I had made in this column during the past several years about the ongoing trends of alien connections of Carnatic musicians. This substantial set of quotations couldn’t be accommodated in the Friday Review for want of space, but it was published in the Online edition . . . .

I had concluded the article with the following observation: “In such an extremely intricate scenario, it must have taken great courage of conviction for Aruna Sairam to give us such a transparent view of her experiment, right here in the Mecca of Carnatic music. I do find her mystic vision of ‘fusion’ truly admirable, and I hope I have the proper credentials for saying so!”

Moderation and integrity

Now, let me resume my comments on the concert under review: The couple of Gregorian chants which Aruna rendered in Latin and archaic Italian -- and the corresponding Sanskrit sloka and Tamil song -- were only a small segment of the 90-minutes-long performance, which included several songs in Sanskrit, Tamil, Marathi and Bengali (Dikshitar’s ‘Hiranmayeem’ in Lalitha; Mysore Vasudevachar’s ‘Maamava Saraswati’ in Hindolam; Papanasam Sivan’s ‘Naanoru Vilayaattu Bommaiya?’ in Navarasa Kannada; Subramania Bharathi’s ‘Chinnanchiru Kiliye’ in Ragamalika; the abhang ‘Bhaktha Jana Vathsale’; and the Durga song ‘Jaago Thumi Jaago’).

The underlying theme of the concert was the Divine Mother, and quite appropriately the performance began and ended with a short but soulful recitation of selected names of the Supreme Goddess figuring in Lalitha Sahasranaama Sthothram. On the Gregorian Chant side, this was matched by the two odes to the Virgin Mary.

Some of these songs were rendered with a Westernized touch, with subtle undertones of church music and jazz, produced by organ-like effects on the keyboard, and by acoustic/bass guitars and Western drums. But this never took away the authentic Indian flavour of the music, because it was all accomplished with extreme moderation and sensitive aesthetic perception.

The accompanists were Embar Kannan on the violin and Patri Satishkumar on the mridangam, and a set of bright youngsters belonging to the enterprising band, Oxygen.

What strikes one most forcefully is the absolute integrity which characterizes Aruna Sairam’s music even in her highly innovative ventures. In the concert under review, the subtle Western colors she introduced just looked like some exotic flowers grown in her own beautiful Indian garden!

          (concluded)


* * * * *

MUSICSCAN, 14 March 2013

Sculptures in sight and sound

“Malavika, in the chiselled lines of her dance, has perfected Bharathanatyam to a point where its geometrical exactitude cannot be bettered.” That's what the eminent dance critic Leela Venkatraman had said in this newspaper about Malavika Sarukkai's accomplishment, 15 years ago. And this is what she wrote recently: “While artistic freedom is every dancer’s right, for one of Malavika’s stature exploring fresh avenues, the challenges of living up to expectations and standards set by one’s own prowess can be daunting.” ( The Hindu, Friday Review, October 5, 2012).

These were the significant comments I recalled specifically in the course of an innovative joint performance of music and dance in the Music Academy's main auditorium on Saturday last, where the stage and limelight were shared by diva Aruna Sairam and dancer Malavika Sarukkai. For both those observations would have been remarkably true of Aruna's music also!

With her leisurely and majestic singing style, she does invariably seem to be chiselling the melodies and songs into lovely sculptures in sound. And as regards that second statement, you have only to change the names, and the seasoned critic might have been talking word for word about Aruna Sairam!

The first half of the program was devoted to a clinical presentation of a couple of Tamil verses from Sri Aandal’s ‘Naachiaar Thirumozhi’ rendered in ragas Hindholam and Aarabi; a brief vocal sketch of raga Kharaharapriya, followed by crisp, danceworthy sequences of improvised swaras; a soulful Hindi Meera bhajan in Kalyana Vasantham; and a romantic Sanskrit song from Jayadeva's ‘Geetha Govindam.’ These initial numbers, which depicted the feminine devotee’s adoration of Lord Krishna in spiritual and romantic terms, progressed more or less on conventional lines.

Spell-binding

It was in the second half of the program that the collaboration between Aruna and Malavika resulted in a performance which acquired a grand and truly fascinating dimension. The magic materialized as soon as Aruna began to sing one of her favourite Abhangs ‘Theertha Vittala’ in Maraathi. For many years now Aruna has bound the rasikas in a spell with her vigorous Vittala songs; and here was Malavika creating an actual visual impression of the listeners’ subconscious awareness of devotees in temple scenarios dancing in ecstasy!

And that mood was reinforced by the number which followed -- Oothukkadu Venkata Kavi's ‘Kaalinga Narthana Thillaana.’ Music-lovers have always consciously imagined a dancer when listening rapturously to Aruna's version of this lively piece of music -- and here was Malavika again, providing an actual visual extension of that mental vision, enacting the roles of both the awesome and evil serpent and the young God Krishna vanquishing it. Truly a rewarding and mutually beneficial encounter between diva and dancer!

Excellent accompaniment was provided by: S. Srilatha (Nattuvangam), Nellai A.Balaji (mridangam), Sai Shravanam (Tabla), Vishnu Vijay (flute) and Srilakshmi Venkataramani (violin).


* * * * *

MUSICSCAN, 20 Sept. 2013
                      

On the charming cowherd

Versatile vidhushi Aruna Sairam's music has so many different dimensions that even in the endless repetition of some of the most popular songs in her rich repertoire, one often finds some unusual elements which add new colors to those familiar songs. This fact was strikingly evident in her recent Oothukkadu Temple benefit concert at The Music Academy.

In recent years, Aruna has been playing a major role in popularizing the compositions of Oothukkadu Venkata Kavi, which have several different dimensions.

Rare krithis on Krishna

On this occasion, which coincided with the celebration of Janmaashtami, she included some of his familiar as well as unfamiliar krithis on Lord Krishna - in a delightful selection of songs tracing the birth of the beautiful infant and the pranks of the playful child to a lullaby.

The songs were further enhanced with the lively dancing of young children trained by dance gurus Narasimhachari and Vasanthalakshmi, in a pleasing stage setting reminiscent of Gokulam and Brindaavan, the abode of the Divine Cowboy.

The addition of the flute and the thabla was another feature that added novelty to the presentation. Excellent performances by the following accompanists enhanced the lively atmosphere: Padma Shankar (violin); J. Vaidyanathan (mridangam); Dr. Kartick (ghatam); Sruti Sagar (flute); Kiran (thambura).

A cheque for Rs. 10 lakhs was presented by the organizers of the benefit concert, SS International Live, to representatives of the Oothukkadu Temple.

This reminded one of the way the legendary M.S. Subbulakshmi had raised funds for the Ramakrishna Math.

Also present that evening was Dr. Kris Yogam from the U.S., who made a substantial donation of Rs. 10 lakhs to the temple fund.

Beautiful garland of songs

The songs that Aruna chose to trace the birth of Krishna and enumerate his pranks are: 


  • ‘Vishamakkaara Kannan’ - Oothukkadu’s hilarious song on the mischievous child. 
  • ‘Mandha Maarudham’ in Bhairavi – the birth of Krishna in a tense atmosphere concerning his security. 
  • ‘Tamadbhutam Balakam’ - A sloka from Bhagavatham, on the glowing looks of the baby. 
  • ‘Oru Puram Nandarum’ - A viruttam in raagamalika, on the infant’s secret transport across the river. 
  • ‘Oruthi Maganai...’ in Behag - An Aandal verse from Thiruppavai. 
  • ‘Uthi Uthi Gopala’ in Bhoopali - A Maraathi song featuring a chorus by the gopis to awaken the lovely infant. 
  • ‘Thatthi Thatthi Nadanthu’ in Chenjurutti - This talks about the child that starts walking. 
  • ‘Dekhori Dekhori’ - A cradle song in Brijbhashi, by Saint Paramanand. 
  • ‘Thaaye Yashoda’ in Thodi - The popular song by Oothukkadu Venkata Kavi, on young Krishna's endless antics. 
  • ‘Maatrariyaadha Pasumponne’ in Nadanamakriya - Yashoda's plea to the mischievous boy to stop his antics. 
  • ‘Brindaavani Venu’ in Abheri - a Marathi abhang by Bhanudasa describing the fascination with which wild and tame animals alike listen to Krishna's flute in the forest. 
  • ‘Manamayakkum’ - A virutham by Venkata Kavi, on the beautiful cows and calves of Gokulam. 
  • 'Kaalinga Narthana Thillana' - the glorious dance of Krishna on the serpent Kalinga. 
  • ‘Maadu Meikkum Kanne’ - Yashoda's protests about young Krishna’s forays into the forest herding the grazing cows, and the boy's humorous response. 
  • ‘Maanickam Katti Vairam Katti’ in Neelambari - A paasuram by Periazhwar. 
  • ‘Mani Noopura Dhari’ - A lullaby in Neelaambari, by Oothukkadu Venkata Kavi.


















* * * * *

MUSICSCAN, 13 Nov. 2015


Aruna Sairam meets Agam


There is nothing new about associating Indian classical music with Western rock. Fifty years ago, the Beatles and Rolling Stones introduced Indian colors marginally into their music, giving rise to a trend known as Raga Rock.

Today, with the proliferation of television channels and music shows, numerous talented rock bands have sprung up in India, with many trying to mix the nuances of Western rock with Indian classical and popular music. For many such bands in the South, the main source of inspiration is Carnatic music, and outstanding among them is Agam, a band of seven music-minded software professionals from Bengaluru.

The 12-year-old ensemble, which has been steadily gaining popularity, suddenly found itself catapulted into the stratosphere last week, performing at The Music Academy in the exalted company of Aruna Sairam, one of the most popular vocalists in Carnatic music today.

Aruna is well-known for her majestic projection of the conventional elements of Carnatic music such as outlining melodies, articulating sacred compositions, elaborating selected phrases of lyrics, and improvising melodic variations, which establish her credentials as a formidable Carnatic vocalist.

She has an exuberant way of rendering specific songs that invoke compelling spiritual visions — such as Krishna dancing on the serpent’s hood, earnest devotees appealing to Durga to wake up at dawn, or a boyish Krishna pleading with his mother to let him go cow-herding in the forest. And Aruna’s adoring audiences everywhere clamor endlessly for these visions to be re-enacted.

Aruna has a natural flair for innovation, and she has effectively integrated a genre of lilting Maraathi devotional songs called Abhangs into her Carnatic music concerts, which is one of the main reasons for her immense popularity.

The same adventurous spirit induced her to team up with French musician Dominique Vellard in 2012 (to marvelously transfuse the bloodstreams of Carnatic music and the Gregorian chant) and with Indian classical dancer Malavika Sarukkai in 2013 for a sight-and-sound collaboration. 

It wasn’t, therefore, surprising that Aruna’s quest for innovation should have led her to collaborate with Agam, but the idea was intriguing.

Obviously, it could not be an initial attempt to discover common ground between two alien systems of music, because Agam had already started that voyage. Rather, the issue here was more about just how far the joint venture could add value to the accomplishment of the seasoned diva and the enterprising set of younger musicians.

It was obvious, too, that there wouldn’t be much scope for the rock idiom to enhance the quality of Aruna’s glorious music in any manner. So, the question really boiled down to this: how far would Aruna’s association enhance the quality of Agam’s evolving art?

The answer, I found, was this: her very presence on the stage as a performer lifted the image, morale and standard of the ensemble sky-high. By merely putting her stamp of approval on their enterprise, it certified the integrity of their objectives.

The program featured, among other things, four sacred songs of the venerable composers Thyagaraja (‘Manavyaala’ in Nalinakaanthi, and ‘Bantureethi’ in Hamsanaadam) and Muthuswami Dikshitar (‘Rangapura Vihaara’ in Brindaavana Saaranga and ‘Subrahmanyena’ in Suddha Dhanyaasi).

The band had a vocalist and half a dozen instrumentalists playing a synthesizer, electric guitars and drums. Aruna chose to play only a marginal role, and did not overshadow the strong voice of vocalist Harish, the band’s frontman. But her judicious interventions and moral support inspired Harish to soar to a far higher altitude than his usual standard, as can be seen from several videos available on YouTube.

Subsequently, Aruna did take the lead with a vigorous abhang and her evergreen cowherd song. But even here, the prima donna could not resist letting the limelight fall on Harish, by assigning him the role of the boyish Krishna.


* * * * *

MUSICSCAN, January 06, 2017  

Fresh approach
     
These are days when exponents of Carnatic music have started globalizing the sacred tradition — thanks to the eager response of the formidable South Indian diaspora, and the initiatives taken by enterprising organizers abroad. At the same time, there is also a growing awareness among organizers here, in South India, about the need to disseminate Carnatic music to wider audiences representing diverse communities and cultural orientations as well as different generations and outlooks
A unique example of such a milieu is the just-concluded Chennayil Thiruvaiyaaru festival organized by Lakshman Sruthi, in the spacious auditorium at the Kamaraj Arangam, featuring a continuous stream of music and dance events, attracting more than 1,500 people, including hundreds of youngsters. Although the title gives the impression that it is exclusively about Carnatic music, its predominant elements are dance and light-music programs; there are also many devotional concerts.
Among the leading Carnatic artists who support the venture is Aruna Sairam, whose annual performance in this forum usually features simple and technically uncomplicated pieces — including some of the songs she has made popular in Carnatic music circles —which have universal appeal.

In her concert on Christmas evening, however, Aruna adopted a fresh approach, and rendered a composition of her own in the form of an unusual Raagam-Thaanam-Pallavi. That was preceded by some conventional numbers which had set up an intensely spiritual mood in the overflowing auditorium: ‘Jagadhaananda-kaaraka’ and ‘Naada-thanumanisam,’ ‘Kalyaanarama’ (Hamsanaadam; Oothukkadu Venkata Kavi), and ‘Mahaadeva Sambo’ (Revathi, Thanjavur Sankara Iyer).

Seven pallavis

The RTP in Thodi featured short versions of the melodic outline and the pulsating phase, and a concise rendering of the lovely twin-lines: ‘Murugane, Guhane, Unadu Paadam Thunaiye / Vadivelane, Valli-Manaalane’, followed by improvised swaras.

While it is usual to render the swara sequences following a pallavi in raagamalika, Aruna added a twin-line pallavi composed by herself for each of six different ragas, corresponding to the six sacred ‘kshetras’ where the ancient temples of Lord Muruga are situated.

So enthusiastic was the audience response that Aruna was induced to lend a touch of sophistication, by singing side-by-side a Sanskrit verse and a Gregorian chant in praise of Mother Mary, to celebrate Christmas.

The subtle instrumental support provided by Padma Shankar (violin), J. Vaidyanathan (mridangam), and S.V. Ramani (ghatam) enhanced the quality of the soiree.

* * * * *

PostScript, Dec. 2018

Roots and branches

In recent years I've been on a long sabbatical away from Carnatic music and music criticism.  But marking my rare attendance in one of Aruna's concerts in the ongoing winter season, I got the impression that the roots of her many-sided music are still buried very deeply and firmly in the classical soil, though some of its branches have developed exotic colors.  Some soulful spells of her performance once again made me think of the intensely meditative and mystic quality of M.D. Ramanathan's music, my impressions about which can be seen in the following sketch :-  

     How The MaestroGave Me A Glimpse Of God . . . 


Saturday, September 29, 2018

An Adventure Called CCMB : A Sci-Fi Encounter Of A Constructive Kind


Just before I joined the Council of Scientific and Industrial Research (CSIR) in New Delhi as its Financial Adviser in 1983, I was working as Accountant-General, Rajkot in Gujarat State for a little less than a couple  of years.  For nearly ten years before that I had been doing some pioneering work at the Center, devising and developing an unprecedented culture of innovative audit investigations concerning the economic and commercial activities of the Government of India, mainly in the areas of exports and imports.  So I was afraid that the Rajkot spell -- which would be essentially routine-oriented -- was going to be hopelessly dull in comparison ;  but soon after taking over the new job I found that there were two vitally important morale-related problems which were crying out for urgent and effective solutions, requiring extremely resourceful initiatives and actions and promising a tough but exciting time ahead. 

One of these twin problems was an ambitious proposal to acquire ten acres of land from the State Government and build 300 apartments for the staff numbering about a thousand persons. The idea had turned out to be quite unrealistic and demoralizingly elusive -- with no reasonable prospects of any land-allotment by the State Government or of any effective engineering action by the zonal office of the Central Public Works Department (CPWD) in Bombay, located in the neighboring State of Maharashtra.

This is not the place to tell the intriguing story of what all happened progressively  in the following months, so let me just say that in the second year of my posting I was able to lay the foundation stone for precisely 300 staff quarters -- on a spacious plot of land with a lovely brook rustling along its border on one side -- in the presence of a jubilant crowd of staff members, and also the Collector, Rajkot (the seniormost officer of the State Government in the district), and high-level officers from the CPWD in Bombay, which had set up a special task force in Rajkot for implementing the construction project.

Soon after that I was back in New Delhi as the Financial Adviser of CSIR, and found that there were many formidable problems troubling the organization for a long time and clamoring for effective solutions.  Moreover, there was a severe personal problem for the financial adviser :  this was the proverbial and intrinsically hostile collective attitude of the scientific community in Government-owned scientific institutions towards Finance -- both internally towards the FA, and externally towards the Finance Ministry, represented in the case of CSIR by a high-ranking officer as the Member (Finance) of the Governing Body.

Languishing lab

CSIR had about 40 constituent laboratories and Institutes scattered all over India, grouped according to major branches of science like physics, chemistry, biology, engineering and information.  Going through their annual reports and other relevant records during the first few weeks of my new assignment, I took stock of the progress and constraints of the organization as a whole and also those of some important laboratories and institutes. 

One of the intriguing impressions I obtained was that the Center for Cellular and Molecular Biology (CCMB), which was headed by a very distinguished scientist, had no building of its own but was functioning in very inadequate space provided within the  Regional Research Laboratory in Hyderabad.  An ambitious building project had come to a standstill at an early stage for want of adequate resources, which was naturally holding up the healthy growth of the infant laboratory in terms of manpower as well as equipment and essential facilities. I was told by scientist-colleagues in the Planning Division that the project had run into serious trouble because the Director of the lab, Dr. P.M. Bhargava, who had wide international connections, was having extremely unrealistic ideas about creating sophisticated infrastructure comparable with the very best in the world.  "He wants to build a five-star hotel!", they said derisively.

And there I was, fresh from the successful launching of the building project in Rajkot, which had also dragged on for several years and had actually been given up as an unrealistic idea, till I revived it :  and I felt a strong urge to see if I could somehow breathe new life into the languishing scientific venture.  Of course, in terms of dimensions and specific features there was a tremendous gulf between building a few hundred staff quarters on conventional lines and a state-of-the-art laboratory in a frontier zone of science.  But in terms of principles and strategies -- effectively overcoming all resistance and constraints, and gainfully influencing external factors governing the generation of funds and facilities -- the two scenarios did have a certain resemblance ;  and given my status as CSIR's financial adviser, I could imagine playing a key role in the whole drama, if only as a supporting actor.  

Frustration and fury

But first of all I had to find out whether the laboratory and its apparently controversial head really deserved my earnest support and deep involvement, which would be absolutely necessary if one had to secure adequate resources for a very expensive scientific venture.  So I went down South to Hyderabad, expecting to spend a couple of days there taking a close look at CCMB's mission and assessing its significance in a national and global perspective.

As I entered Dr. Bhargava's chamber on the first morning, I found him in a morose mood.  What was bothering him specifically that day was the serious trouble he was having in acquiring a couple of indispensable (and expensive) instruments, which was holding up some vitally important research.  He expressed the hope that having just taken over as CSIR's financial adviser, I would take an unprejudiced view and authorize the expenditure.  I said I'd certainly like to do so, but first I would like to know what his credentials were for making extremely heavy demands for funds.

Of course, that was a rather blunt way of putting it, though I had meant no offense and was only trying to open up a frank and useful conversation.  But I must have set light to a sensitive fuse, since Dr. Bhargava seemed to be nursing a long-drawn-out and frustrating grievance against conservative colleagues in CSIR's Headquarters.  Anyway, he just blew up in an explosive rage, and refused to give me an answer.  "And I'd like to know what your own credentials are for asking me that question!" he fumed.  "May I know your qualification in science?  Do you have a science degree?  What do you know about microbiology?"

"None -- no -- nothing!"  I said.  "Economics was my subject in college.  My knowledge about microbiology is almost zero."

"There you are!  And still you think you have the right to question my credentials as a scientist?  Am I answerable to you?"  Dr. Bhargava asked.  And his tone was so aggressive that it was my turn now to blow a fuse. 


"I am not questioning your credentials, Dr. Bhargava!"  I said.  "I am just asking you to make me clearly understand what they are, that's all!  But let me tell you something :  I will be asking you and your scientists a hundred other questions about CCMB as we go along, and will expect to get crystal-clear answers!  Just give me ten minutes, and I'll explain precisely how I think I can help you to build the lab you're dreaming about.  After that, we can continue this conversation if you think it will be useful -- otherwise you can ask your office to cancel my return flight tomorrow evening and get me a seat today, and just let me go back to my room and read some magazines!  Will that suit you?"

That outburst surprised even me, for I hadn't meant to be rude at all.  But the shock seemed to moderate the eminent scientist's furious and hostile response.  "All right, go ahead!  I am listening!" he said, desperately trying to regain his composure. 

My role visualized

Both of us were now in a feverish mood, and my short monologue which followed had a sharp focus, like a precis being written in an examination hall, and it crystallized all relevant ideas which had been floating around in my mind for several weeks.  Dr. Bhargava heard me out with intense concentration, which helped.  Paradoxically, what I had to say was quite elementary but also immensely significant :-  

Any important project in an externally funded organization would be largely governed by external factors.  In the case of CSIR, which was almost wholly funded by the Government of India, the external forces were the Finance Ministry, and the Secretary (Expenditure) who represented it in CSIR's Governing Body as the Member (Finance).  Apart from CCMB's overall budget allocations and staff sanctions, there would be many specific contexts calling for special dispensations and relaxation of normal rules, which would need the approval of the Member (Finance).


The concerned Government officials were not likely to be very familiar with specialized areas of science, though their general knowledge (like mine) did include a smattering of scientific information.  For them to be convinced about the justification for providing extraordinarily heavy funds for any project, certain important conditions must be fulfilled.  They had to have total and personal faith in the concerned scientists, as well as in the internal financial adviser who endorsed their demands.  And they had also to clearly understand the national and social significance and value of the venture -- in an overall sense as well as in terms of many specific aspects and items of expenditure -- although the standard scientific terminology might not make much sense to them.  

Both in building up their confidence in the concerned scientists' bona fides and in enhancing their comprehension of the issues involved, I could add value by reinforcing the scientists' arguments with convincing arguments of my own.  Obviously, my arguments could be convincing only if I had been convinced by them myself in the first place.

In addition to such external factors, moreover, there would be many contexts in which CSIR's Director-General could approve specific dispensations, with the concurrence of the financial adviser.  Here again, I would need to record convincing reasons for giving my consent.  

So far as I could see, the construction of the buildings and other basic infrastructure for CCMB had got bogged down because the Director's obsession for achieving excellence (and parity with the best standards in the Western world) was overflowing beyond the scientific field into peripheral areas like interior decoration and luxurious fittings and furnishings -- which, unfortunately, tended to undermine his credibility in purely scientific contexts as well.  But if he could convince me 100% about the scientific aspects and agree to moderate his approach wherever necessary, I might be able to create a credible image for him and try to get things moving soon. 

Well, those were my credentials for asking any questions I liked, no matter how elementary or ignorant they might sound.  If that would be a nuisance, I was perfectly willing to let things proceed in the normal course, wherever that might lead. 
Dr. Bhargava seemed to be spellbound by my machine-gun-like salvo, which clearly visualized the crucial role I could play in the given scenario.  When I had finished talking, he said simply :

"All right, Ramakrishna, let me just set the ball rolling by telling you why I need these two instruments so urgently!  Then we will have all the time in the world to talk about anything else, whenever you like, won't we?  And by the way, do call me Pushpa!" 

And that instantly converted the whole fiery episode into a Science-Finance encounter of the most constructive kind, and the prelude to a great adventure in Dr. Pushpa Bhargava's life and mine.

Unique testimonial 


Four years later, in 1987, CCMB was formally inaugurated by Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi in a spacious, state-of-the art campus, with scientific infrastructure comparable to the best in the world (and the whole ambiance not altogether lacking in beauty and elegance!).  The keynote address was delivered by Nobel Laureate Sir Francis Crick, and the event was reported in the world's leading scientific journals in glowing terms.  People in CSIR circles still liked to joke about the Hyderabad Hilton, but not without a trace of respect and admiration.


Precisely how this mission was accomplished is a saga which calls for a separate narrative.  But I must mention here that I couldn't have had any effective influence on the course of events if the Director and other senior scientists of CCMB (especially Deputy Director Dr. Bala, who had figured in the two preceding posts) hadn't taken extreme trouble to educate me sufficiently about many vital aspects of their ongoing and potential research. 

Let me also add that my role as supporting actor was even more formidable than I had imagined, for there were certain delicate contexts in which I had to take enormous personal risks and place my own neck on the chopping block by taking decisions far beyond my powers -- securing ex-post-facto approval of the competent authorities after the successful outcome -- because processing those intricate and speculative issues in the normal course would have carried still greater risks of deadlock and failure.

Pushpa knew it all well, of course.  He wrote a sincere letter thanking me in the context of the inauguration, which took place a few months before my association with CSIR came to an end (to be followed by a radically different kind of assignment in the realm of art and culture) :-