A few ill-informed zealots hijacked the social media last week, and the mischief escalated into a full-blown controversy, with more elements joining to stoke the fire. The reason — some Hindu Carnatic musicians have sung songs for another Faith. Accusations and counters have been flying thick and fast. In all this madness, one is still searching for matter.
If the sacredness of Carnatic music is the issue, there was no murmur when Tyagaraja’s ‘Mari mari ninne’ became the charanam of ‘Paadariyaen padippariyaen’ or ‘Ninnukkori Varnam’ made waves, the former actually going on to win a National award. The audience dissolved in tears when the young boy sang a filmi ‘Dorakuna...’ in the climax of ‘Sankarabharanam.’ And how could the ‘saint’ be reduced to celluloid material in ‘Tyagaiah?’
Sathiya Mutirai Kattalai Ittadu Nayagan Yesuvin Vedam
Kattalai kaettavar thottilil kaettadu balagan Yaesuvin geetam...
The song was a favourite in the late 1970s. It was sung by a voice, which also rendered hundreds of songs on various other gods. There never was a quarrel.
Nee Illada Ulagae Illai, Needanae Ulagin Ellai, Allah Allah...
When the same singer sang ‘Amara Jeevitam Swami Amudavaasagam...’ there was no protest. There couldn’t be because this society has enjoyed music of all genres — from Bismillah Khan and Chinna Moulana to Parveen Sultana and Higgins Bhagavatar. Many of them would have gone to schools run by minorities and happily taken part in choirs and carol singing, without giving it a thought. Light or classic, reel or real, music has always transcended barriers.
This controversy has also thrown up talk about freedom with lyrics. Oh yes, the Trinity and other composers did not claim copyright and their descendants will not go to court unlike some composers would for their film songs. They are public property and so can be used in any way. Noteswaram was a stroke of genius, which had no commercial angle.
Music being their profession, it is only natural that artistes keep looking for opportunities. How fair is it to question their credentials? Having said that, perhaps musicians have been trapped in the images that they have created and the Frankenstein Monster is now towering over them. These icons cannot break out of their moulds without shocking and angering adoring followers. At the end of the day, it all boils down to entertainment. When that perspective is lost and the listener looks at the musician with tinted glasses, trouble begins.
So does Carnatic music not have any sanctity? Are ragas not therapeutic if not Devathas? Did Amritavarshini and Megaranjani not bring rain? What about Syamakrishna (Syama Sastri), who worshipped Bangaru Kamakshi and composed all those moving kritis? Or Muthuswamy Dikshitar, who invoked the Srichakra with his Navavarana kritis? Did Tyagaraja not have a vision of Sri Rama? Yes, the songs have sanctity, but at a personal level — especially so for a community, which may not own Carnatic music but treats it as a way of life. Here, baptism is done along with school.
In public domain, however, both the art and the artiste become two ends of a business spectrum; seeing hidden agendas will only lead to confusion. This in turn will set off an emotional spin difficult to halt, as witnessed now.
