Is Rangarajan such a bland, banal name? Does not seem so,
but why a plethora of Rangarajans of the
earth have hidden behind aliases in their pursuit of gaining name and fame? Is
it because the ones who have not opted to do so, have only managed to turn out
to be boring central bankers, listless LDCs, uninspiring under-secretaries or the pan munching mamas of the neighbourhood? So if one is born Rangarajan and still wishes
to achieve not just professional success but ultimate crowning glory, hide
under an alias. Your dreams might just take you to the summit
you were yearning for!
Two such aliases immediately come to mind.
Sujatha and Vaalee. Two luminaries, who added color to Tamil literature, each in
his own unique way. The former who made
popular reading fashionable; brought a whiff of scientific temper to his
audience, even while managing not to be straight-jacketed into a sci-fi
writer. Exhibited a vast repertoire,
from Srirangam Maidens to Salavaikkari of Mexico, from Karayellam Shenbagappoo
to Katradhum Petradhum. His sharp mind and brilliant writing skills, not every one
can aspire to be endowed with. Not all
talent can be cultivated either, some needs to be there deep inside your DNA.
Yes, writer Sujatha had that streak of brilliance in his genes and doubtless,
was a genius. But this piece is not
about him. His mention here is only
casual, only in relation to the Ranagarajan aliases. He is just a passing reference…..
…..This is about the other famous Rangarajan. The one, who bid us goodbye yesterday. This is about Vaalee’s vivacity and versatility. This is about his long, successful journey
spanning five decades. A sojourn which betrayed
no signs of exhaustion up until the moment
the traveler fell down and never got up again.
This is about a life full of poetry, a poetry of a life.
This Vaalee was actually the Sugreev in Tamil film-lyrics
kingdom. Always reckoned as the underdog to the original Vali i.e. Kannadasan,
always lived in his shadow. Into a kingdom ruled by Kannadasan, our (Sugreev)
Vaalee initially found it difficult to step, let alone rule it with honour and pomp. He fought with all his
might but to no avail. He became depressed, dejected and decided to take exile
from the kingdom of Kodambakkam. Legend
has it that PBS played ‘mayakkama kalakkama…’ penned by his very adversary, and
the song shook his insides. He returned
with a vigour to the kingdom, succeeding in riveting the world’s attention to the magic he wove in the film karpagam and from then on there
was no looking back. The veteran Vali and the just arrived Sugreev walked hand
in hand and strode Tamil film world for well over three decades.
Not hundred, not a thousand but a staggering 10000 songs sprouted from his
ever fertile literary mind. He could
write, with equal felicity, about love, death, injustice, impotence, the
virtuous, the wicked, the gods, the scoundrels and a million other things. He was
the voice of MGR. The MGR our folks saw
in their lives owed half his image to Vaalee. Vaalee was the spring from which
valour, chivalry, anger, compassion and love flowed through the medium of MGR
to the outside world. Vaalee was the
breath in MGR’s life. MGR dared his
enemies by belting out “naan aanayittal” but the actual 'aanai' was that of the
sutradar Vaalee. The duo of MGR and Vaalee was no less potent
than the other (rival) worthy duo of Kannadasan and Sivaji. It was destined to be so. If the KS duo was bitter sweet, the MV was
hot and pungent. If KS evoked tears, MV evoked a hearty laughter. Both
the tastes were of course needed for the meal to be wholesome and delicious. Both the emotions are needed to maintain one’s
composure.
Can what Vaalee produced be termed literature? Oh, not that question again. Like the eternal debate between mass cinema
and art cinema, between a Bach and a Barman, between a Shakespeare and a Sheldon…each
cocking a snook at the other, each chest-thumping that his genre is superior…Let’s
not get into all that. Like Kamal said,
there is only good cinema and bad cinema.
Like Raja said, all music which touches the soul is great music. And Vaalee’s output was stupendous, rich and
extremely soul touching. It remains so
even if the purists are reluctant to place it on a high literary pedestal. His athai madi methayadi was as soothing as
his thottal poo malarum. His singari
sarakku was as intoxicating as his maistry, kadhal sastry. (Don’t wince. Yes, he wrote those words. Sastry is well, mettukkudi Aryanisque, but maistry???
Well why not, Vaalee asks.
Maistry builds the house brick by brick so does the kadhal maistry in “love
build up” as Vadivelu says).
Not for him the gimmickry of knotted imagery and convoluting
phrases. Not for him the odorous viyarvai and thorny ambugal in every other
song, making the listener weary and wary, giving the feel of travelling in a rickety share auto on a
pot-holed Chennai bye-lane. His words came straight from the heart, unadulterated
by literary ostentations and pretensions (and no, this is not a denigration),
sliding smooth as a Volvo on an expressway with no speed breakers. After
all, those were the sixties, the golden era of Kannadasan and Vaalee. The lyrics would be simple, gush like an
unbridled stream, roar like a waterfall and caress like silk and in effect,
embellish the situation and the song, not in the least fearful of being swamped
and drowned in computer music. The
lyrics, the tune, the instruments, the play back singer and the actor emoting
on screen, all complementing one another and leaving a lasting impact. Such were the times! Such was the milieu which gave space to
talents like Vaalee to experiment and excel.
.....Ah, the good times have ended. The koel has fallen silent, the gushing waterfall has
stopped. A stunning silence has
enveloped. Darkness has descended. Vaalee is gone……
PBS first, then went TMS and now Vaalee, all within a space of a
few months. The gods appear to be in a
mindless, tearing hurry to snatch away
mirth, melody and music from us the earthlings. Hey foolish god, if you pluck
all flowers at once what will remain of the plant? One shudders to even think which flower of
yesteryears would be the next. Can’t
death make an exception here and there, now and then? No, death will not listen. For death is not wont to appreciate music and
the joy, music gives to life. Death and music are oxymoronic.
But alright. As one sloka says, Vaalee had anayasena maranam,
vina dainyena jeevanam (a life without hardship and a death that was
effortless). He deserved such a smooth
life and a smoother death.
Rest in peace, Vaalee! People
of your ilk but descend on earth, once in a century!
