[ Co-authored by Darshana Sreedhar and Vinu Abraham, this originally appeared in the Sarai Reader No 9: Projections. Darshana Sreedhar is a PhD scholar at the School of Arts and Aesthetics, Jawaharlal Nehru University. Her work focuses on the history of Malayalam cinema. Vinu Abraham, journalist, novelist and scenarist, is better known for his novel  Nashtanayika, the fictionlised biography of PK Rosy, which formed the basis for Kamal's Celluloid (2013 ). ]

I have always been interested in this theme of survival, the meaning of which is not to be added on to living and dying. It is originary: life is living on, life is survival [la vie est survie]. To survive in the usual sense of the term means to continue to live, but also to live after death.

-  Jacques Derrida, “Learning to Live Finally”, p. 26

In his last interview to Le Monde, given two months before his death in 2004 and later published as “Learning to Live Finally”, Derrida ruminates on survival, which for him straddles two nodes. One entails a vivacious desire to explore life in all its fullness, unscathed by an imminent death looming large. The other is the possibility of a life after death, experienced like a silhouette, awaiting its turn to be recalled to the present. This ‘return’ is facilitated not only by the desire to re-live the past, but also to pepper the present with a melancholic nostalgia, something which could trigger past memories back to the present. The spectral presence of what was earlier a dim memory becomes the constitutive feature of the present, upsetting the easy progression of time by proposing that time is simultaneously haunted by past and future. This spectral nature of the past haunts Malayalam cinema as well and, over the last five years, has prompted the production of four films that employ a similar thematic to look nostalgically back at the lost lives and narratives of the silver screen. This trend becomes instrumental in re-projecting and bringing to the limelight moments relegated to the trashcan of history by pumping new energy into the process of memorialising. This return of the ‘revenants’ of Malayalam cinema has a disquieting quality to it as it is driven by an obsessive and repetitive momentum.

The cluster of films we examine here are Vellaripravinthe Changathi ( The Friend of the White Dove, Akku Akbar, 2011 ), Naayika (The Heroine, Jayaraj, 2011), Thirakatha (The Script, Ranjith, 2008) and Celluloid (Kamal, 2013). All four films take on a ‘retro’ mode right from the pre-production phase, interspersing fact and fiction with memory and loss. We approach this cluster of films from two perspectives. The first examines how the ‘disappeared’ figures and forgotten events of Malayalam cinema are brought back to the realm of visibility by being part of film narratives and publicity posters. Alongside this, we focus on the role of the ‘creative film historian’ employed by these films in their retro-journey into the past of Malayalam cinema; this figure, we reckon, can mediate “discursive stratifications and ephemeral formations” (Miller, n.d.) to produce new discourses.

Narrative Exorcism: Recalling the Spectres of the Past.

To be haunted by a ghost is to remember what one has never lived in the present, to remember what in essence, has never had the form of presence. Film is ‘phantomachia’… the future belongs to ghosts.

- Derrida, Stiegler et al. (2002)

The use of retrospective orbits to answer the call to remembrance given by the spectres of the past is a prominent device used in all these films. In Thirakatha, we see Akbar, a film director, in search of Malavika, an actress of yesteryears, whose disappearance from both onscreen and off-screen life was a sensational story in the 1980s. On the other hand, Naayika takes on the narrative of Aleena, a documentary filmmaker, to trace the sudden disappearance of Grace, who ruled the silver screen in the 1960s and 70s. In both these films, there seems to be a constant interplay between pre-production publicity, which clearly and vocally assigns a referent to the storyline, and post-release controversy, undergirding the filmmaker’s reluctance to subscribe to the earlier positions. In most cases, the imaginary referent becomes the ghost figure haunting the lives of not just one, but many, both onscreen and off-screen, thereby flattening all attempts to identify the real source behind the story.

Thirakatha ( 2008 )

For instance, Thirakatha, publicised widely as a tribute to the late actress Sreevidya, became in a short time an “unpleasant controversy” and gave rise to much speculation and misgiving. Ranjith, the film’s director, writer and co-producer, had to convene a press conference in Kozhikode to clarify that the film was not a real story fictionalised, but was intended in homage to many actresses of times gone by who vanished from the vellithira (limelight) as they found themselves caught in the interstices of a hero-centric production industry. On a closer look at Thirakatha’s pre-production phase, however, we have a different narrative altogether. More than the ‘tribute’ Ranjith claims his film to be, there were allegations of his tarnishing the memory of Sreevidya, whose life was marked by a series of tragic happenings. From the publicity posters showing Priyamani (the film’s lead actress) alongside Sreevidya, with the text, “For the heavenly beauty, who has loved cinema and left us midway”, to the strategic use of an opening slide before the credits to foreground Sreevidya as the film’s inspiration, there were instances mobilised in the narrative to connect the ‘real’ and ‘reel’ lives.

{ Publicity poster for Thirakatha showing Sreevidhya on the left and Priyamani on the right. The text above the main title loosely translates as “For the heavenly beauty, who has loved cinema and left us midway”  }

The tumultuous butshort-lived romance between Sreevidya and co-actor Kamal Hasan became the cornerstone for weaving the narrative into a ‘pastiche’, liberally borrowing from the gossip columns familiarto film viewers. The inter-textual references to film texts were such that it brought a vibrant community of online bloggers to open up the interpretative possibilities which the film offered when read alongside the off-screen references. In the words of a blogger who uses ‘Vids’ as his/her user name, the viewing experience of Thirakatha was tantamount to a guess game, putting the viewers on toe, right from the first shot. Events, sequences, people whom we have seen or known appear in a glimpse, vanishing from the frame within seconds, so fast that even an avid film buff finds it impossible to draw the connections. This can be seen, for instance, in the use of Mohanlal’s mannerisms in the character played by Anoop Menon, and in the naming of his debut film as Kazhinja Manjukalattu [The Last Winter], which closely resembles the title of Mohanlal’s debut film, Manjil Virinja Pookal [Flowers that Blossomed in the Mist] – all part of the popular memory associated with the 80s.

Mohanlal debuts in Manjil Virinja Pookal (1980)

Another webpage exploring similar questions was Old Malayalam Cinema, where the respondents stressed through the comments thread the need to memorialise ‘forgotten’ moments, conjoining it to the dominant narratives. What actually triggered the ‘controversy’ was Ranjith’s revealing that he had first conceived the film’s plot after a visit Kamal Hasan paid Sreevidya during her battle with terminal breast cancer. Ranjith was quoted as saying, “When Srividya was ill, she wasn’t willing to meet anyone from the film industry. The first thought of Thirakkatha came to me when I heard of her one-hour meeting with Kamal” (ibid.). This instance from real life seeped into the film narrative as well. A statement from Ranjith, who is believed to have had access to Sreevidya’s personal documents, on her influence on the film was taken as a tacit admission to his role as a ‘retriever of lost narratives’ and of the film as the culmination of such an endeavour. Ranjith even appears in the film as Aby Kuruvila, an associate director whose old letters and diary entries become the lead for Akbar to trace Malavika’s life. But more than Aby, who appears in just five scenes, it seems more likely that Ranjith is taking on the persona of Akbar, the successful director in search of a convincing script, as a last ditch effort to give the spirit its due.

Naayika (2011)

The next film under consideration, Naayika, takes the retro-journey to a new level. Starring Sarada, one of Malayalam cinema’s nityaharita naayikas (evergreen heroines), and promoting the film as her return to the screen after a career break, Naayika is projected in its pre-production publicity as a tribute to silver screen actresses of yore. This is seen not only in the interviews given by Jayaraj and Deedi Damodaran, the film’s director and scriptwriter respectively, but also in the opening credits, which feature photographs of movie heroines from the 1960s onwards, accompanied by an evocative soundtrack from films of that era. Ms. Damodaran was quoted as saying that “none of the reel women [of today] seem to have anything to do with real women… Naayika will be a woman of flesh and blood, not the novel woman who inhabits our films”, while Jayaraj said, “The efforts have been to bring back the memories of those old times in the minds of the viewers”. In a way, it seems as if there lurks behind such statements a desire to delve into the past of Malayalam cinema in search of a ‘real’ person who will vouch for the imagination associated with the female lead. But here too, off-screen and onscreen lives coalesce as past, memory and nostalgia are mobilised as markers to revisit times gone by. The most prominent instance worth mentioning is the incorporation in the narrative of the events leading to the suicide of the 1970s actress, Vijayashree. In the course of filming her last production, Ponnapuram Kotta (Kunchacko, 1973), there was a sequence captured that showed Vijayashree’s dress falling off, partially revealing her bare body. The subsequent appearance of this scene in the film appalled her and is widely believed to have been the prime reason for her suicide.

The trailer of Naayika ( 2011 )

What Naayika gets at, through scattered references throughout, is to hint at the real life figures allegedly behind Vijayashree’s tragic end. There were even rumours that the film’s director, Kunchacko, had had a role in her death, with the film going so far as to suggest that he murdered her. Avoiding any direct reference to Kunchacko, the film instead brings forgotten narratives back to the limelight by recreating Vijayashree’s wardrobe malfunction with a cast selected for its physical resemblance to the real people involved. In the film, the character of Stephen, the producer of a movie named Kunnathoor Kotta (a word play on Vijayashree’s ill-fated last film), is played by an actor who resembles Navodaya Appachan, a film producer and brother of Kunchacko. While Appachan’s Navodaya Studio features as Greenland Studio in the narrative, the most crucial part of the narrative is constructed by mobilising another event from the recent past – Appachan’s receiving the J.C. Daniel Award, the lifetime achievement felicitation instituted by the Government of Kerala for outstanding contribution to Malayalam cinema.
{ Publicity poster for Naayika with Padmapriya and Jayaram in the foreground. Padmapriya plays the role of a young Sharada in the film while a picture of Sharada in the present, looms large in the background. The visual style of the poster emulates the ‘look’ and ‘feel’ of the 1960s.}

If in real life Navodaya Appachan was the recipient of the award in 2010, the film narrative in a knee-jerk response shows Stephen being arrested from the venue of the award ceremony when his role in the death of Vani (Vijayashree’s filmic equivalent) is brought to light. If in real life the perpetrators of Vijayashree’s death went scot-free, redemption is made possible in the film narrative by deflecting the loss into Stephen’s being made to reckon with the gruesome murder he was responsible for. The broader framework within which Naayika places itself is, in a way, a continuation of the quest for the lost heroine inaugurated by Thirakatha, thus making the revisiting of the past a running thread. We see the ‘lost figure’ conjured up as if she is guided into the present moment and has let herself be led in the process of retrieving forgotten stories.

Celluloid (2013)

The same quest for the ‘lost heroine’ links the earlier two films with Celluloid, a biopic on J.C. Daniel, director of the first Malayalam film, Vigathakumaran (The Lost Boy, 1930). Celluloid brings before us the lost narrative of Vigathakumaran and also the forgotten life of its lead actress, P.K. Rosy. Turning away from the mythology-related themes on which early cinema in other parts of the country thrived, Vigathakumaran was rooted in social reality. For
{Publicity still from Celluloid. The picture on the placard on the left shows the poster of the original film in front of a set made to look like the entrance of the old Capitol Cinema. The poster has the title of the film in Malayalam and the English translation along with the name of the director in Malayalam. In the foreground, actor Prithiviraj as J.C. Daniel.}

Daniel, who had donned the role of producer, director, script writer, editor and lead actor for the film, it was a crucial venture, a do-or-die situation, one that could either win him accolades or sink him into oblivion. Sadly, it was the latter that transpired. The Thiruvananthapuram audience that thronged the Capitol Theatre on 23 October 1930, the day of the film’s opening, had been drawn by the publicity posters that claimed to have, for the first time, a woman on screen. The mostly orthodox Hindu audience, however, was outraged at the sight of Rosy – in real life, a Dalit Christian convert – in the role of the film’s female protagonist, a Nair. The film was instantly mired in controversy, triggering off a series of disruptions that affected the professional and personal lives of all involved. Daniel had to single-handedly bear the film’s financial losses, leaving him in utter penury; later, his application for a government pension for indigent artists was rejected point blank. The post-Independence linguistic reorganisation of states had its part to play here: the black-and-white rules of bureaucracy could not accommodate someone born in what was now deemed Tamil Nadu as a ‘Keralite’, notwithstanding the fact that he had spent more than 50 years of his life in the part of the country now called Kerala. For Rosy, too, Vigathakumaran changed the trajectory of her life to a point of no return. Disowned by her community and under the double ostracism of caste and gender, she fled her hometown, Thiruvananthapuram, to take refuge in a remote part of Nagercoil in present-day Tamil Nadu, where she remained under the alias ‘Rajamma’ until she died. Inadvertently, the film’s title, Vigatakumaran (The Lost Boy), became thus an evocative marker for a string of losses – Daniel’s financial loss, the loss of Rosy’s narrative in public memory and the subsequent ‘loss’ also of the film’s print. If the depiction of the hero (Daniel) kissing a flower in Rosy’s hair was what started the uproar, Vigathakumaran strangely inherited the same fate as its protagonist. The pelted stones that destroyed the Capitol’s screen were not just a rupture but a catalyst that initiated debates as to what would constitute a Malayalam film and who would qualify as a Malayali.

Director Kamal on Celluloid’s conception.

The pre-production phase of this film had its genesis in its director, Kamal’s, futile efforts to find the lost print and negative of Vigathakumaran, and to track down someone who had seen the film. With the films discussed here so far, we have referents upon which the storyline can constantly draw; Rosy’s story, however, is marked by a complicated absence of any such. How would one trace the life of Rosy when she lived in anonymity after her debut, not leaving any traces, even in photographs? These questions drive the narrative of Celluloid and were the core engine of its pre-production machinery as well. The film’s script, in fact, is based on Vinu Abraham’s 2008 novel, Nashtanaayika, a speculative, fictional account of what might have happened to Rosy – but speculation is all that remains. Indeed, her story, and those of J.C. Daniel and Vigathakumaran, would otherwise have been consigned to oblivion but for the determined efforts of Chelangatt Gopalakrishnan, a film historian specialising in early cinema, who crusaded to bring to notice the government’s apathy and mindless inaction towards Daniel’s plea and the orchestrated silence around what was the first Malayalam film.

After decades of effort, a nod of acknowledgement for Vigathakumaran finally came, with the Kerala state government attempting amends by instituting the previously mentioned lifetime achievement award in Daniel’s name in 1992.

The Trailer of Celluloid(2013)

It is between the ‘losses’ of these two figures of Malayalam film history that another important figure emerges – that of the ‘creative film historian’. In fact, this appears as a recurrent trope in all four films here discussed, not just Celluloid, wherein the use of the ‘film within- a-film’ format and the figure of the ‘film historian’ together reassemble the film medium to trigger dormant memories. If, as Derrida says, “the future belongs to ghosts”, then the past possesses the present. These films are indeed instances of historical exorcism through narrative, and the creative film historian appears, in our analysis, as the medium via which this act of chronological transcendence manifests.

Tracking ‘Lost Narratives’: The Creative Film Historian as Exorcist.

Chelangatt Gopalakrishnan

In these films, the figure of the creative film historian becomes proactive in unearthing lost threads once thought ‘irretrievable’. With a deft handling of past and present, and a selective deployment of strands from both, even to the point of speculatively working his way out, the ‘creative film historian’ acts as a facilitator to salvage and re-project the lost fragmentary archives to the present. By flaking off the ‘dead skin’ of the past, he penetrates to the flesh of an earlier temporality and reinstates the impulse to retrieve the connection between two moments separated in time. Individual recollections here evoke forgotten moments which then get re crafted into cultural scripts or templates. Here film as a medium itself acts as a ‘time machine’, retrieving fragments from the past to build an alternative archive. Such an archive can withstand the demands of ‘factual’ appropriateness and logical coherence and bring to light the contradictory impulses it contains. This template of ‘loss’ (lost narratives, figures, objects) and ‘search’ (for the long tradition of Malayalam cinema) seems to be a strong influence, governing both the diegetic and extra-diegetic worlds of these films. It seems as if these films push for the need to place Malayalam cinema as an ‘organic entity’ which has ‘matured’ long enough to be nostalgic about its own past. Just like a clock that suddenly begins to tick after months of hanging silent on the wall, the past comes gushing in, validating a “persistence of a present past” (Derrida and Stiegler 1996) as the historian retrieves the lost data from the contingencies of life.

Celluloid does not limit its concerns to J.C. Daniel and Rosy, but uses their story as a peg to trace the trajectory of Malayalam cinema to the early 2000s. Chelangatt Gopalakrishnan’s quest for the lost history of Vigathakumaran becomes the backdrop for the narrative to explore the journey Malayalam cinema underwent from the 1930s onwards. It was Gopalakrishnan who was instrumental in Vigathakumaran being recognised as the first Malayalam film, an argument he advanced in his biography of Daniel, J.C. Danielinthe Jeevithakatha (The life story of J.C. Daniel). His claims were at first heavily contested; Balan (1938), the first Malayalam talkie, was previously held to be the originary point for Malayalam film history, as per the dominant accounts on cinema. The appearance of Chelangatt Gopalakrishnan as a fictive character in Celluloid is an instance carefully calibrated to accommodate the seepage of present into past. While Malayalam cinema is projected to be reckoning with such an influx in productive ways, the production of Celluloid is shown as an instance which carries the spirit of such an endeavour. Another instance of such a move is presented towards the end of the film when we see simulated shots of the documentary filmmaker R. Gopalakrishnan (in real life, the maker of an award-winning film on the life of J.C. Daniel) being facilitated in the presence of past and present directors and producers. Both R. Gopalakrishnan and the ensemble audience are played by their real-life personas. In our analysis, this ensemble is created in order to illustrate how far Malayalam cinema has moved from Daniel’s disrupted exhibition at the Capitol theatre.

Sreenivasan as Chelangattu Gopalakrishnan in Celluloid (2013)

In the film, Chelangatt Gopalakrishnan becomes the ‘creative historian’ invested with the task of conjuring apparitions from the past to enter the present. Unlike the fictionalising of the narrative seen in Naayika and Thirakatha, the use of the referent figure in Celluloid is distinct. This is primarily because Chelangatt’s association with the ‘lost film’ (Vigathakumaran) in real life was a fairly well-known fact, and the narrative mobilises this to move beyond the fictionalising of real events, on which the other two films rely heavily. Even as this becomes striking, it somewhere blunts the radical potential wielded by the figure of the creative historian, who here is forcefully asked to become an alibi for ‘authenticity’ and ‘facticity’. Promoted as Kamal’s offering to Malayalam cinema in his silver jubilee year as a film director, it successfully withstands the temptations of being clubbed into a period film, all the while doubling up as a peep-hole to take a glance at the present moment.

Vellaripravinthe Changathi (2011)

Vellaripravinthe Changathi, the last film that we focus on, brings to light the 1960s film era through the lost reel of a fictional unreleased film (also the title of the film) retrieved by, the ‘creative historian’ Manikunju from the isolated quarters of the Chennai-based Gemini Lab, which houses old film reels that are yet to be destroyed. It is telling that this quarter of the Lab is informally referred to as the pretalayam or ‘ghost house’.

The Trailer of Vellaripravinthe Changathi ( 2011 )

Therefore, in discovering the lost film reel, what is recovered is not just ‘celluloid’. Rather, alongside it, the muffled voices and unrealised dreams of those who were part of the production of the film are also exorcised from the deep caverns of amnesia and anonymity. As Manikunju watches the unreleased film (made by his father, Augustine Joseph) in the preview theatre, one among the many reels in the ghost house waiting to be re-called back to life, he embarks on a journey to find the film’s lead cast who enacted the roles of Ravi and Sulekha, lovers doomed to separation.

As in the other three films, real life incidents become part of the film narrative here as well. Ravi’s broad daylight murder of Sulekha, a sensational case which took place in Calicut in the 1970s, is woven into the narrative of the film-within-the-film quite dexterously. The shot of Ravi holding Sulekha’s lifeless body and weeping helplessly is an image mobilised to conjoin the past with the present moments. There is a redemptive potential inherent in the discovery of the lost reel as the final shot of the film shows Shajahan and Mary Varghese (in the lost film, the actors who play Ravi and Sulekha, enacted in real life by Dileep and Kavya Madhavan) brought together after years of separation. Here the present is mobilised into the narrative as an uninvited guest whose entry is so stark that it cannot be missed. The contemporary moment becomes the ghost that watches us, someone by whom we feel ourselves being observed or surveyed.

{Publicity poster for Vellapravinthe Changathi with actor Indrajit, seen in the background handling film reel. Indrajit plays the role of Manikunju in the film – the character that retrieves the fictitious lost film of the title.}

Aleena’s unfinished project on the ‘lost heroines’ of Malayalam cinema in Naayika is a trace which haunts our writing as well. This project is intended as a creative exercise to look at what happens when the present slips into a historical past. Does it also bring one to revisit the crystallised memory, where remnants of what has been forcefully weeded away could return? Memory seems to be in a state of permanent evolution. Even while it is unconscious of its successive deformation and is vulnerable to manipulations and appropriations, it is also susceptible to being long dormant and periodically revived. It thus nourishes recollections that may be out of focus or telescopic, global or detached, particular or symbolic. Maybe the search for the lost heroine, nashtanaayika, is caught somewhere in between.

Notes.

1 See “Ranjith Finally Confesses the Truth”, in One India Entertainment, 9 September 2008. Available
at: http://entertainment.oneindia.in/malayalam/news/2008/thirakkatha-ranjith-controversy-190908.html  (last accessed 16 November 2012).
2 See “Thirakatha: Some Questions” (2008). Available at: http://srijithv.com/blog/thirakkatha
3 See http://oldmalayalamcinema.wordpress.com/
4 See Saraswathy Nagarajan, “Writing Change”, The Hindu, 17 December 2010. Available at: http://
www.thehindu.com/arts/cinema/article958726.ece  . Also, “Urvasi
Sarada is Back as Naayika”, Rediff Movies, 28 June 2011. Available at: http://www.rediff.com/movies/report/urvashi-sarada-is-back-as-nayika/20110628.htm
5 Bindu Menon’s work on Rosy’s life also looks back at the disappeared heroine and is one of the few
attempts at retrieving the lost narrative of Rosy. “Chronicles of a Disappearance: P.K. Rosy and
Contemporary Malayalam Cinema”. Paper presented at ASA conference held at JNU in 2012. http://
www.nomadit.co.uk/asa/asa2012/panels.php5?PanelID=1203 

References.

• Abraham, Vinu. Nashtanaayika (Current Books, Thrissur, 2008).
• Derrida, Jacques. “Learning to Live Finally”. Available at: http://www.studiovisit.net/SV.Derrida.pdf
(last accessed 12 December 2012).
• ———————————-. Spectres of Marx, (trans.) Peggy Kamuf (Routledge, 1994, New York), p. 118.
• Derrida, Jacques and Bernard Stiegler. Echographies of Television: Filmed Interviews, (trans.)
Jennifer Bajorek (Polity Press, 2002, Cambridge).
• Miller, Nchamah. “Hauntology and History in Jacques Derrida’s Spectres of Marx”. Availalbe at: http://
http://www.nodo50.org/cubasigloXXI/taller/miller_100304.pdf  .
• Nora, Pierre. “Between Memory and History: Les Lieux de Mémoire”. Available at: http://www.
history.ucsb.edu/faculty/marcuse/classes/201/articles/89NoraLieuxIntroRepresentations.pdf

The Frontage of the Sharngakkavu Temple (Chamakkavu)

Here is one more reason to wax eloquent on one of my favorite movies, Kakkothikkavile Appooppan Thaadikal (1988). On a recent visit to Kerala, yours truly had the good fortune of making an unscheduled stop at Chamakkavu, the Kakkothikkavu that we  are so familiar with, from the movie, where the Sacred grove becomes the central eco-system  in which the characters enact their life’s roles with a delightful ending to the proceedings. It is an ecological miracle that the sacred grove, though reasonably denuded still retains its canopy and structure as it was with a sinking feeling that I read through a series of posters stuck on the local bus station that I alighted, exhorting the local community to come together to prevent decimating another Kaavu in the locality to make way for a vast building complex. The photographs come courtesy of two dear friends – talented and successful photographers Anoop and Santhosh, who also know the place like the back of their camera-wielding hands.

The Sharngakkavu Temple (Chamakkavu) complex

The expansive “courtyard” of the temple, with the Kaavu in the background. One could almost mistake it for the neighboring lush treeline till you reach the entrance flagstones leading inside. Its as if you are entering inky green darkness.

The Sharngakkavu Temple (Chamakkavu) with the Kavu in the background

From across the Achenkovil river, the structure looks diminutive, but I guess its mostly because of the  ”looming” presence of the canopy behind.

The Towering Canopy that envelops the Sharngakkavu

Standing at the entrance of the temple, looking at the cove, enveloped by the towering expanse overhead, a part of  your mind shares apprehensions on how long before all this would disappear, maybe not the temple, but the sacred grove behind, yielding place to a Community Centre or the new Panchayath Administrative Block.

The pathway to the Sacred grove at the Sharngakkavu-Temple (Chamakkavu) complex

To any child, the Kaavu is mythical, enticing, deep dark and mysterious, and somehow becomes the perfect place to escape from the strictured regimens the outside world demands,  a theme running through Murli’s life in Kakkothikkavile Appooppan Thadikal (1988). If director Kamal immortalised it on screen, no one could have put it as eloquently as Soni Somarajan did  in his “Curse of the Serpent “,

The whole kaavu spanned a large part of the compound and it almost leaned into a huge pond topped with green scum, occasionally broken by the little stones sent skimming over it by the children in the neighbourhood. It was difficult to see the other side through the grove; the foliage was so thick with vines, creepers, gnarled branches and the thick green leaves. It was dark when you walked inside and it bore no resemblance, in form or climate, to the world you had just left behind. It was creeping cool – you almost felt the goose-bumps come on and the first instinct was always one of fear as if you were being watched. Here and there, through little nooks in the foliage, the sunlight would find its way through in little beams that scythed its way into the dense vegetation and lit it up in a strange shade of foggy green. The grove’s floor was thick, with years of accumulated humus, dry leaves, parakeet droppings, minuscule rotting flowers, forsaken form-less idols and red manjadi seeds. The grove must have seen days of glory but nobody knew why it had become so abandoned and ignored.

I am sure this is exactly what even Murli and his band of young friends felt in their hearts too !

The iconic flagstone “stairway”that lead to Kakkothikkavu

The iconic flagstone stairwell is now flanked on both sides by the home-grown barbed-wire fence, though it wasn’t fenced two decades back. Thankfully the eeriness hasn’t been walled. It flows and swirls around, unfettered.

Kakkothikavu-revisited, twenty five years on

Director Kamal mentioned in an interview that the location of a sacred grove that perfectly suited the screenplay that they had in their hands was given to them by none other than MT Vasudevan Nair and once they visited the place, they couldn’t agree more. Twenty five years on, if you are one of those who still hold that simple, sweet film close to your hearts, you would see that the spirit of the grove has somehow found a way of keeping a step ahead of the urban cancer called “Development”.

The pathway into the heart of the Kaavu at Sharngakkavu Temple (Chamakkavu)

A dirt pathway that runs perpendicular to the flagstone stairwell, deep into the Sacred Grove ends in a short clearing and nothing more. I strained hard to look around for the remnants of the mud wall partitions that formed the gypsy camp” inside the place but the Grove, I guess, has a way of fiercely recouping its own, vines, undergrowth, dankness et al.

The green canopy inside the Kakothikavu

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we started our own Malayalam Film Trails ? Revisiting locations of the classics we hold close to our hearts, and reliving the moments of those celluloid characters lives in a place that transformed magical inside the darkness of the cinemas, but yet so real.

As real as the ripple of the waters of Achenkovil river, in this case.

The Chitramela Film Quiz, conducted by Rajesh Mohanan at the Malabar Christian College, organised by Quiz Kerala Pictures, in association with the Quiz Society of India ended up being one of  the biggest and the most popular quiz shows ever  based on Malayalam cinema history, going by the buzz in the social media circles.

As promised, here is the complete set of questions, from the prelims and the Finals Questionnaire that the Quiz Master himself has graciously shared with the blog. As with all other Malayalam Film Quizzes posted here, the ground rules remain the same :

1. Keep the patron saint of search, Google OUT of this effort.

2. Complete answer sets would be those for who atleast post their attempts at answering either of these in the Comments section. That is being fair, don’t you think so ?

The Prelims Questionnaire of the Chitramela Film Quiz.

The Chitramela Film Quiz Finals Questionnaire.

Have a great weekend.

“The Pioneer”, a literary work on J.C.Daniel had its inspiration from the seven state-award winning feature film “Celluloid”, made by renowned film maker Kamaludeen (Kamal), which was released on February 15th, 2013.

Meant to offer a deeper historical insight of the socio-cultural ecosystem that existed and encouraged (?) JC Daniel to single-handedly pursue his creative dream on celluloid, “The Pioneer” also attempts in offering a fresh perspective on the chain of events that coalesced to create the first movie in Malayalam.

{ Also, as with every event posted here, please note that the views and the literary content expressed here in the Chapter Excerpt and the e-Book are those of the author alone, and do not necessarily reflect the opinions, tone or views of the general content nature of this blog, per se. }

A Chapter Excerpt from “The Pioneer”

It was in November 2012 that as part of navigating through various T.V channels, a movie-based telecast in ‘Kairali We’ Channel explained the news of a feature film in the making with Kamal at the helm of affairs. The commentator briefed about the shoot shown as per which  Prithviraj Sukumaran, the budding super star of Malayalam filmdom, was in three piece suit moving along a gravel road seated in a man-drawn cart or rickshaw. There was an old hall-like structure at the side of the road bearing a board which read ‘Capitol Cinema hall’. I was naturally interested about the whole issue. Thereafter, keeping up with my small life experience of a budding historian, I followed up the matter and found a write-up in a journal in December 2012 giving a superficial knowledge of the project. I was still in the dark about the historic content of the art by Kamal. Barring ‘Gandhi’ of Richard Attenborough, no other movie, a feature film released and shown in India had ever attracted my attention as a befitting biopic. Attenborough made extensive studies about Gandhiji ever since late 1950s and made the script and screenplay, finally shot the film and released it in 1982. Biopics are seldom made in Attenborough style. Movie makers do not have time for that.

About the Author

Born on January 26th 1973 at Mumbai, educated at Bishop Moore Vidyapith and Bishop Moore College, Mavelikara in Alappuzha district, and later at University college in Trivandrum, Sen Joseph appeared for Civil Services Examination conducted by UPSC in 1998-1999. He has  authored and published articles and books on socio-political subjects including  the “Mystery of Netaji’s Death” published by Netaji Study Circle in 1999. Currently settled in Kochi after a professional career at Delhi, Punjab and Dubai from 2000 to 2011, he does freelance research into socio-political-cultural topics over and above his professional commitments. Married to Seena Sen, they have a son, Stefan Sen Joseph.

Download the Book here.

As life becomes more busy and more complicated, memory lapses advance with age, we start making lists. Lists rule our lives. Shopping lists. To do lists. Telephone contacts lists. Password lists. Lists of complaints. And less commonly, lists of compliments – the list of Lists go on and on.

Maambazhakkoottathil from Bhaagyamudra (1967)

When we are in the first flush of love we compare the loved one with the best of everything we know. From the tastiest Mulgoa mango, to Kanni, the pleasantest month of the year, to Ebony, the rarest, hardiest and most beautiful wood, to a Sindhi cow, the friendliest and most productive of the lot ( In this day and age these lyrics would be found to be sexist and discriminatory, but the poet meant it to be the best of all things, surely ) The song goes on to list no less than 12 metaphors. Lyrics were by P Bhaskaran and music by the much-loved Pukazhenthi, made a comedy classic by KJY.

A softer, more romantic list with a floral theme can be heard in the song Vaalittu Kannezhuthum from Kaikkudanna Nilaavu (1998) comparing his love to Vasantham, the season when everything is bright, and in bloom. Sung by KJY, the song is written by Gireesh Puthencheri and music by Kaithapram.

Panchavadiyile Vijayashreeyo from Padmavyooham (1973)

If the hero in my first selection was describing the object of his desire based entirely on the beautiful things in nature, the leads in my second most favourite song were definitely movie buffs. In their fantasy their loved ones morph into the most famous stars of the Indian silver screen. No less than 15 are mentioned, including Vijayashree, Ragini, Padmini, Sheela, Sharada, Prem Nazir, Rajesh Khanna, Dharmendra, Sathyan, Madhu – this comedy classic has been mentioned in OMC in the Meena Special earlier, showcasing the excellent dancing skills of Adoor Bhasi and Meena bopping away to the lines of Sreekumaran Thampi set to tune by the great MK Arjunan.

Angaadi Marunnukal from Amrithavaahini (1976)

Feeling unwell? Adoor Bhasi and his apprentice Sreelatha lists a whopping 53 medicinal herbs in just 2:33 entertaining minutes. Although Adoor Bhasi has sung about 25 songs for movies, this is notably the only one for which he himself penned the lyrics. Music is by AT Ummer.

If your head is still reeling after that, there is treatment from the revered living legend V Dakshinamoorthy (Naagaraadi ennayundu – Devaalayam 1964- Lyrics by Abhayadev – Music by Dakshinamoorthy Swami himself ) serving out 10 different medicines out of the same “Bharani”. They smell the same, and they come from the same container, but prices vary according to the customer.

Kuruvippetti Nammude Petti from Sthaanaarthi Saramma (1966)

Who can forget the promises political parties make to the poor public to win an election? But, miraculously, as soon as they assume office the promises predictably go out the window. In this song there are about 15 promises that Saramma’s party makes which would make their Panchayath a veritable paradise. At home, growing up, we used to say “……Naadaahe Ariyude Kunnuhalaanu….(in typical Adoor Bhasi style) as a sarcastic comment to some unbelievable claim or promise someone made to us.

Maayaamaalavagowla Raagam from Swathu (1980)

In my opinion, there is no other movie song in Malayalam which showcases this many (14) ragas demonstrating and emphasising their characteristic differences. Listening to this song takes me on a long musical journey – into Nature, Seasons and Life, and how music is integrated in all these. A classic created by the combination of of MD Rajendran’s beautiful lyrics, G Devarajan;s musical genius and the golden voice of KJY’s soulful rendering. I consider this the ultimate in lists. Better than all the rest.

I hope you have enjoyed my list. Please do write in with your favourites.

[ SPOILERS AHEAD ! ]

To anyone who has a part of his/her yester years safe in a cookie jar deep down, the lyrics of “Oru vattam koodiyen” from this movie are unforgettable. From the same movie is the song “Chaithram chayam” whose melody captures a deep sorrow within it – a sorrow that seems to echo the collective sorrow of a universe. It was this music that led me to the movie.

Chillu (1982) – I found the title fascinating.  A piece of glass that is sturdy and firm on the exterior, and in truth, so delicate and fragile that it could break into a million pieces at the slightest trauma. Such is the central character of this movie – Annie (Shanthi Krishna). The movie has its oddities and eccentricities in terms of script, dialogue delivery, pace and performance –  it carries strong tones of an art movie, as opposed to other movies which have touched upon the theme of suicide, such as Neeyethra Dhanya (1987) or Oru May maasa Pulariyil (1987) . However, what appealed to me about this movie was the characterization of Annie – the sketching of a personality trait that predisposes to suicidal behaviour. In that regard, this was yet another Malayalam movie that scored brilliantly at its psychological perspective.

The evergreen “Oru Vattam Koodiyen”.

In the first half of the movie, we are introduced to an Annie who is unconventional, outgoing and quite open minded. She personifies individuality and appears to be in control of herself. Having lost her mother early in her childhood, her father has raised her liberally. We also see the impulsive Annie who leads a life that is far from mundane. Her plans and her actions are abrupt and impulsive. An Annie who lives in the moment, whose life does not revolve around one particular focus. Instead, she is volatile and switches from one endeavour to another. This moment, she is seen chatting and laughing with a bunch of friends. The next moment, she switches over to a more intellectual conversation with Ananthu (Venu Nagavalli). And then you see her switching over to a playful banter with Manu (Rony Vincent).

Shanthi Krishna as Annie in Chillu (1982)

Annie cherishes relationships; she seeks deep intimacy in all her relationships. This is where her relationship with Ananthu derives emphasis. Ananthu is an intellectual companion- someone whom Anne relates to. Manu, on the contrary, is her companion from childhood. She cherishes both these relationships, albeit on different grounds. However, Manu fails to comprehend this equation and he feels threatened by her emotional intimacy with Ananthu. When confronted with the question as to whether Annie is in love with Manu, she has a simple answer- “I grow restless if I don’t see him a single day.” And then she laughs about it. One would almost mistake her for a woman who was incapable of being dependent on relationships.

Rony Vincent as Manu in Chillu-(1982)

And that is Annie for us in the first part. While her relationships are in place, we see an Annie who is idealistic, joyful and loving. She refrains from defining emotions and relationships because definitions perhaps undermine their value.

The movie takes a turn towards the second half as Manu’s insecurity grows. As a desperate attempt to ‘own’ Annie, Manu pretends to court another girl. However, Manu’s mother grasps the situation and decides to take a stand. She arranges for Manu to get married to this girl, gauging well that Manu’s insecurity would always stand in the way of his relationship with Annie. She explains this to Annie. And that is the moment we see the other version of Annie- intensely sensitive and fragile. Annie breaks down. Her vitality is replaced by a brooding personality – a personality that is overwhelmed by the pain of rejection and abandonment. Her lows sail through depression – a sorrow that refuses to abandon her. In this period, we also see her mood swings and emotional instability. One moment, she is crying out aloud and the next moment, she gathers herself up, ignoring the ache that is gnawing at her. She switches from vulnerability to strength and back to vulnerability. Depression turns into a season that refuses to leave. Her mind desperately hunts for an escape from it. Impulsively, she visits Ananthu. Their college life has come to an end and Ananthu is leaving. Her mind desperately longs to hold on to someone who will comfort her and help her tide over her depression. She expresses her desire to accompany Ananthu, merely to escape from the emotional chaos within her mind. However, when he expresses his helplessness, she is quick to repress the vulnerability she has transiently exposed. And thus, Annie comes face to face with her loneliness. We see the Annie who is in reality, intensely dependent on her relationships for happiness.

Venu Nagavalli as Ananthu in Chillu (1982)

Annie attends Manu’s wedding. She plays the perfect host to the guests, her face belying the chaos within. She exhibits dissociation, wherein she desperately focusses on playing host, in order to escape from the unbearable pain within. And yet, it hits harder and she bursts into tears. Manu’s wedding signifies to her a permanent loss of her relationship. The loneliness and emptiness is suddenly frightful. Unable to contain the negativity of her emotions, Annie finds her ultimate escape route. Like a human being who would rather jump out of the window of a high-rise apartment that caught fire and die than endure the flames, Annie prefers suicide to the negativity of her emotions. That is her final impulsive act.

This movie beautifully portrays borderline personality traits. Borderline personality disorder ( BPD ) is well known for its association with suicide; the suicide rate is 8-10% in this class of people. People with BPD are highly sensitive to rejection and fear of possible abandonment. They display unusually intense sensitivity in their relationships, have difficulty regulating emotions and are impulsive. They feel emotions more easily and for longer than normal people. They are emotionally unstable due to repeated “re-firing” or re-initiation of an emotional reaction. They are exceptionally idealistic, joyful and loving. However, they are overwhelmed by negative emotions – they experience grief instead of sadness, humiliation instead of embarrassment, rage instead of anger and panic instead of nervousness.

Efforts to escape from these intense negative emotions accounts for suicidal behaviour in them. They are aware of the intensity of their negative emotional reactions, but are unable to regulate them. They also depict emotional lability with mood swings. They express intense joy and gratitude at perceived expressions of kindness and intense sadness or anger at perceived criticism or hurtfulness. Their feelings towards others shift from positive to negative- from idealization to devaluation. They exhibit a strong desire for intimacy, but tend towards insecure, avoidant or fearfully preoccupied attachment patterns in relationships. They often exhibit dissociation in response to a painful event, thus directing partial or full attention away from the painful event. Most have a history of childhood trauma- particularly loss of caregivers in early childhood.

I think Annie’s character in this movie identifies with the core features of borderline personality. The beauty of the movie is that it takes us through the inner journey of her mind, and helps us empathize with her need for intimacy and her dependence. It gives us insight into such a personality trait and creates in us the desire to be more empathetic to people.

Chaithram Chayam Chalichu from Chillu  (1982)

Alstonia scholaris – the Yakshi Pala of Kerala .

The Malayalam Film Songs in between the year 1960 to 1980 were not only gifted with their rich lyrical beauty and melodious compositions but also endowed with diverse themes. The songs of love, solitude, of seasons, lullaby, devotion – the list goes on and on. Here itself, we came across many such themes. One such topic, that I felt has been missed out on, was the genre of “haunting songs.” Why them ? An analysis of the songs in this genre in Malayalam proves that they are so melodious and will continue to haunt the memories of discerning listeners for years to come. They are haunting in the literal sense too, having been picturised in eerie and mysterious contexts.

 Yakshi for Dummies.

The theme of such films, either at the centre or the peripheral, places the spirit of a person who succumbed to unnatural death and thereafter becomes a supernatural creature believed to be perturbed and restless due to some factor that prevents them from moving on to nirvana, due to violent death, unsettled matters in their lives, or simply the failure of their survivors to perform proper funerals. They are able to alter and assume forms of various animals at will, but are usually seen in human form. As the earth is regarded as sacred or semi-sacred they go to lengths to avoid contact with it, often floating above it. They cast no shadows, and prefer to appear in white clothing. Sometimes they haunt specific houses which are typically places where they were killed or which have some other significance.

Here are a couple of reasons why I feel that the eerie, weird and mysterious theme of the Yakshi was really popular till the 80′s on the Malayalam screen.

•  The Yakshi is a very popular folklore character in Malayalam.
•  She is portrayed as an extraordinarily beautiful female.
•  The Yakshi of our local legends prefers white robes, and are said to target lonely and lost travelers at night.
•  Women dying unnatural death are believed to transform into Yakshis.
•  Palm trees are said to be their abodes.
•  The Yakshi’s arrival is heralded by an overbearing, benumbing fragrance of the Jasmine or the Alstonia ( Pala ) blooms.

Vayalar Rama Varma, in the song Yakshiyambalam Adachu ( Gandharva Kshetram | Music G Devarajan |Sung by P Susheela ) marvelously portrays the yakshi story as follows:

The Yakshi, who assuming the form of a beautiful woman approaches the lonely priest and asks for a little ‘lime’ for her “paan” habit. The priest fascinated by the charm of the damsel offers the lime. The beautiful lady transforms herself into a terrifying Yakshi and carries the priest to the top of the palm tree . All that remains the next day will be the hair and nails of the victim at the bottom of the Palm tree.

Hence, Yakshi themes picturising the song scenes with a beautiful lady in a white saree accompanied by haunting music was tried in quite a few films. The haunting songs of these films are so melodious and it’s so sad to mention that no earnest attempt was made to showcase these songs.

Before going into the details of the haunting songs in Malayalam films, it is better to know the generic nature of such songs

•   All songs are in female vocals
•  The songs can be classified into two; the first are those songs by the perturbed and restless spirit of a deceased person. The idea of creating a haunting song imitated by a lady clad in white saree which is cunningly conceived by a villainous master mind to scare others and avoid their presence is the second type
•  The song gets repeated or there may be variations in the same film
•  All are light songs rich in melodious composition

Almost all Music Directors who created the everlasting classics of our film songs till the 80′s had their contribution to haunting songs also. Here are a few of my favorites.

1. Potti Takarnna Kinaavu from Bhargaveenilayam (1964)

Lyrics : P Bhaskaran  |  Music : MS Baburaj    |  Artist  : S Janaki

Probably the first haunting song in Malayalam film history. Based on the screenplay of Vaikom Muhammed Basheer, the film is credited with a few classic melodies still remembered by all. The central character, the story writer, takes a house for rent. Later he came to know that the house Bhargavi Nilayam is haunted. The brave writer converse his feelings to the invisible spirit. Contrary to the local belief of bad consequences, the writer is spared by the spirit. One night, the writer finds the spirit of Bhargavi on a swing, singing the song. Though the vocal part of the song maintains the smooth flow of notes in Harikamboji that convey the sorrow of the singer, M S Baburaj used the piano, horns, strings and rhythm guitar in the BGM part to convey the feelings of the puzzled writer. The best part of BGM, I feel is the piece using horns after the first four lines which is repeated after the last part of anupallavi and charanam. This song has a second version – Pottatha Ponnin Kinavu. More on the movie here.

2.  Nizhalaayi Ninte Pirake from Pathira Paattu (1967)

Lyrics : P Bhaskaran  | Music  : VijayaBhaskar  | Artist  : S Janaki

The film was produced and directed by Prakash under the banner Movie Crafts and written by Jagathi N K Achari.  A lady is found missing and her brother is  informed by a person called Das that she was killed by her lover. In the night, a ghost like figure is seen roaming with a haunting song Nizhalaayi Ninte Pirake  . The disheartened brother goes in search of the lover who reveals that actually Das was the person who murdered her. It was later revealed that the driver of the wicked Das was a CID officer and the ghost was none other than his wife assisting the CID to unravel the mystery. Unfortunately neither the print of the movie nor its digital version is available now.

Music Director Vijaya Bhaskar in the studio | Credit & Rights : The Hindu

Music Director Vijaya Bhaskar scored music for  films, in Tamil, Telugu, Malayalam, Marathi, Tulu and Konkani language. He was also a recipient of Karnataka State Film Award for Best Music Director six times. Vijayabhaskar composed music for Jeevikkaan Anuvadikku, Kayal Karayil, Theruvu Narthaki, Vidheyan, Kathapurushan, Mathilukal and Paathirappattu. He died in the year 2002. There is a Hindi version of the song composed by Madanmohan though I can’t trace the name of the film. This resemblance maybe incidental since Vijayabhaskar assisted Madanmohan for a few films. The prelude and the interludes convey the haunting mood of the song especially the piece in vibes after the line Etho yakshikku chooduvaan.

3. Paadunnu Puzha Paadunnu from Paadunna Puzha (1968)

Lyrics : Sreekumaran Thampi | Music : V Dakshinamoorthy  | Artist : S Janaki

Produced by Jayamaruthi and directed by M Krishnan Nair, this movie had R K Sekhar assisting  Dakshinamoorthy in music composition. Jayachandran is a handsome painter who loves Sethulakshmy, music teacher of Indu. Jayachandran  is invited to the house of Indu’s brother Advocate Ravi. Ravi requests Jayachandran to draw a portrait of their step mother. This acquaintance makes Indu  fall in love with Jayachandran. However, the unperturbed Jayachandran maintained his love to Sethulakshmy alone. One day Jayachandran & Sethulakshmy decided to elope at 7 in the evening. To save time till 7, Sethulakshmy goes to Indu’s house. There she finds only Ravi who grabs Sethulakshmi. In the tussle, she is killed. The advocate, without losing time, paddles out to the sea in a boat and dispose off the corpse. On his way back , in the solemn silence of the night, he  hears the song Paadunnu Puzha Paadunnu  and in the haze clearly sees a women in white emerging from the water.

The song Padunnu Puzha Padunnu has three versions. First one sung by Jayachandran ( K J Yesudas), second by Rajalekshmy and Indu (P Leela) and the third the disturbingly haunting song (S Janaki). Dakshinamoorthy scores three different tunes for the same lyrics which is a unique phenomenon in film music composition. The first one, a pleasant melody, second version semi classical and third the haunting song.

4. Paathirapakshikale from Urangatha Sundari (1969) 

Lyrics : Vayalar  | Music : G Devarajan  | Artist :  P Susheela

Produced and directed by P Subramaniam for Neela Productions, this is the remake of Daphne Du Maurier’s famous novel ‘Rebecca’. Kartha, a well off person, fall in love with Vilasini, a dancer. He marries her. The house maid of his mansion is profoundly devoted to Vilasini and the enchanting song Paathirapakshikale Paaduis her favorite tune. One day she dies in a boat accident. After a few days Kartha meets Prabhavathy, an orphan, and after a few days of courtship, she agrees to marry him. Kartha’s business trips leaves Prabhavaty alone  in the mansion. In the night, she encounters a mysterious profile of a lady and a haunting song. The woman in question is none other than her husband’s former wife! Though the song is unpopular, I feel that it is one of the best in this genre and that of the composer. The interlude of the song is the theme music for the film. A very melodious song synchronized with unusual BGM. Listen to the line Teril vanna Diwaswapnangal Vaari choodiya Peeli  in the anupallavi. The part teril vanna glides through the notes of F Major Chord. As it enters diwaswapnangal a pinch of sorrow is effectively added through the movement to the minor notes and again the song get back to its joyful mood. The song is repeated four to five times in the film.

5. Ottu Vala Edukkan Marannu from Aadyathe Katha (1972)

Lyrics :  Vayalar | Music : M K Arjunan | Artist : P Susheela

Produced by Chitranjali and directed by K S Sedhumadhavan, the story  was by P Keshavadev. A writer, who is working in the city, decides to write a novel. He requests his peon to find out a peaceful place in the nearby vicinity. The place is identified and the writer shifts to his new abode. The owner of the house was really pleased to see the educated handsome bachelor who is also a government servant. The village people in the neighborhood without hesitation came to see the writer. Whenever he took his pen, a new visitor appeared or a new incident occurred in such a way that not a single word was written. Night came. The writer felt happy since he thought that hereafter nobody is going to disturb him. To his surprise, a very old men stroll into the room. He introduces himself to be a neighbor and incidentally narrates the story of a Brahmin lady who was a resident in the house years back and finally committed suicide. In all full moon days, he swears, the lady ghost is seen in the house. The writer in the bed was troubled and in the dark hours saw the beautiful Brahmin lady ( Jayabharati, as a guest artist). Singing the song Ottuvalaedukkaan Marannu, the yakshi laments on her fate in the following lines

“പോയവൈശാഖങ്ങള്‍ പിന്നെയും കാണുവാന്‍
പോയതുപോലെ ഞാന്‍ മടങ്ങിവന്നു”

“ക്രൂരമായ് വേര്‍പെട്ടു പോയൊരെന്‍ യൌവ്വനം
ആരെനിക്കിന്നു തിരിച്ചു നല്‍കും?”

The song is a beautiful melody having the features of Mishrasivaranjini ragam. However, Komal madhyamam is also used in the song. The prelude to the song starts with a movement in strings followed by a humming by Susheela and ends with the strumming of the banjo. The interlude before the charanam is edited in the record version of the film.

Related : Pranaya Sarovarame from C I D Nazir (1971) , with lyrics by  Sreekumaran Thampi and sung by S Janaki . The song, though picturised in an eerie situation unfortunately lacks the beauty of a haunting song.

6. En Chundil Raaga nombaram from Kaadu (1973)

Lyrics : Sreekumaran Thampi | Music : Vedpal Varma | Artist : S Janaki

Produced and directed by P Subramaniam, the movie was written by S L Puram Sadanandan. Vikraman heads a team of gangsters who have  a  jungle hideout . Mala is the daughter of the tribal chief and she loves Veeran from the tribe. Vikraman, fascinated by the beauty of Mala, one day cunningly takes her to his place on the pretext that Veeran, her lover is lying there injured. Realizing the treachery she tries to escape. A tussle followed and the girl collapses. Sensing the seriousness of the situation Vikraman buries the body. Next day, in the night, people hear the melodious and haunting voice of a female singing the song En Chundil Raaga nombaram. All of them where really petrified to see the profile of Mala roaming the woods singing the song.

Its very interesting to note that there is another song in this film Ambili Vidarum Ponmaanam which is so close in its tune with this song. This song has another version in the film rendered by P Susheela. Though the lyrics of the two songs are different the tune is same and the haunting effect in this song is added effectively by the BGM. Thanks to T K Pukazhenthy who assisted Vedpal Varma in the BGM part. Vedpal Varma, composed melodious songs for Hindi and Punjabi films.Tum na aye sanam shama jalti rahi  by Lata Mangeshkar ( Bhoot Nath /1963) of Vedpal Varma is one example for his talent to create soft melodies.

7. Kaaveri Kaaveri from Kuttichaathan (1975) 

Lyrics : Vayalar  | Music : RK Sekhar | Artist : S Janaki

The film produced under the banner Rajapriya was directed by Crossbelt Mani. Padinjarekkara is a village. A few residents strongly believe the existence of ghosts. Another group firmly disapproves it. In between, there is a third group of gangsters cleverly manipulating the people for their ends. In this situation the CID enters and the usual sequence of events follow. Finally the truth is revealed and the film ends. The song is sung by Vidhubala, a hapless lady who fall into the trap of the gangsters. They make use of her to lure the CID to their hideout.

One of the fine compositions of R K Sekhar who contributed equally in composing the tune for the lyrics and for the supporting BGM. The prelude starts with a movement in the major scale and as it progresses enters the flat notes. The piece of music in the finishing part of the intro first in synthetic vibes and then supported by guitar proves the talent of RK Sekhar. Though the song seems composed in the Misra Sivaranjini, R K Sekhar on a few occasions deliberately mixed a few different notes to produce the haunting mood for the song. The song is edited in its record version by deleting the charanam part of the song which I remember is only available in the movie version.

8. Bindu Nee En Jeeva Binduvo from Chandanachola (1975) 

Lyrics : Dr. Balakrishnan | Music : K J Joy  | Artist : P Susheela

Produced by Dr. Balakrishnan and directed by Jaysey, there are two versions for this song in the film. Vidhubala, the heroin plays with her daughter in the first version which is composed in a happy mood and it became a hit with its charming tune. As the film progresses, Vidhubala dies and she appears as a ghost in the dream of Sadhana who enticed Vidhubala’s husband Jose Prakash. The guitar is effectively used in the lead as it was the favourite instrument of K J Joy along with accordion. Though the song moves along the notes of Aabheri, the musician feels free to rely on different notes to enhance the beauty of the song.

9. Nisheedhini from Yakshagaanam (1976)

Lyrics : Vayalar | Music : M S Viswanathan | Artist :  S Janaki

Yakshagaanam is directed by Sheela and produced by Mathiyoli Shanmugham. The story is by Medhavi. Ravi (Madhu) and Savithri (Sheela) are happily married. One day, with a few others, they go for a vacation to Ravi’s house. In the bunglow, Savithri encounters strange experiences. In the night, she hears the song Nisheedhini.. and through the window she saw the profile of a spectral women.

The song is repeated till the end of the film. The song, even today, lives in the heart of all music lovers. M S Viswanathan uses the ragam MisraSivaranjini and in the anupallavi and charanam drift to the borders of natabhairavi to make the lines medina medini nin in the anupallavi and Yamini Yamini nin in the charanam much more pleasing. MS Viswanathan in the song explains how a haunting song can be created by the judicious mix of ragas.

Related : Pokaam Namukku Pokaam from the same film by Vayalar and sung by S Janaki. Though the song leads us to the climax of the film, it failed to generate the melody and went unnoticed.

10. Ee Kaikalil from Ee Gaanam Marakkumo? (1978)

Lyrics : ONV Kurup | Music : Salil Chowdhury | Artist : S Janaki

Produced by Padma Mani Films, the movie was directed by Sankaran Nair. The film is gifted with a few good songs composed by Salil Chowdhury and assisted by Shyam and Sabita Chowdhury.

Gopi returns back to his house to inherit his ancestral property. The immovables were managed by Raman Nair, the karyasthan, at his will who disliked the sudden appearance of Gopi. The irritated Raman Nair decides to work out a plan to scare Gopi so that he will flee from his home forever. One night, Gopi was awoken by a song, Ee Kaikalil . The song starts with a humming followed by an enthralling prelude so typical of Salil Chowdhury. Composed in minor scale, I feel that this is the best Malayalam haunting song of Salil Chowdhury. The interludes are lead by synthetic strings beautifully accompanied by the oboe.

Related : Rappaadi Paadunna Raagangalil  from Vishukkani (1977), written by  Sreekumaran Thampi and sung by P Susheela. The song is composed in minor scale. Still the musician elevates the song to new heights with his masterly application of b major (different note) in the line Talirum Taarum polinju.

11. Yamini from Agnivyooham (1979)

Lyrics : Sathyan Anthikkad | Music :  A T Ummer | Artist : S Janaki

Produced by R S Prabhu under the banner of Sree Rajesh Films, this was directed by P Chandrakumar. The story unfolds in a flashback narrated by a ghost. The film starts with the song Yamini a lady in white with long hair is seen in the night by the watcher of a tourist bunglow. The watcher, a fresh appointee, unaware of the mysterious stories of the locality enquires who she is. She tells her story. The release year was 1979 and it was in the previous year the famous Hollywood movie Omen was released in Kerala. So naturally the idea of the “Devil Dog” was brought in to the theme.

A T Ummer was assisted by Guna Singh (the musician who assisted Jerry Amaldev in the Film Manjil Virinja Pookkal and subsequently composed the songs of Padayottam). The tune for the lyrics is composed in a befitting manner for a haunting song – rich in melody. An equal contribution is made by the musician in the BGM part to communicate the haunting nature of the song.

12. Nizhalaayi Ozhuki Varum Njaan from Kalliangaattu Neeli (1979)

Lyrics : Bichu Tirumala | Music : Shyam | Artist : S Janaki

M Mani produced the film in the banner Sunitha Productions. M Krishnan Nair directed the film. Kalliangattu Neeli is a part of the folklore of the erstwhile Travancore State. The story of the film revolves around a rest house. One day the guide takes the tourists to see the nearby places. In the evening the team reaches the deserted and haunting place called Kalliangaad. There the guide narrates the story of Neeli. A beautiful village belle, she falls in love with a warrior travelling through her locale. They get married. The warrior, a thug in disguise schemes her murder, kills the pregnant Neeli, robs her jewelry and flees. Thereafter Neeli is seen by many, clad in a white saree. The yakshi entices the travelers and finally drinks their blood. She meets her beau again, and seduces him with the sweet Nizhalaai Ozhuki Varum njaan, and finishes him off.

The gramophone record of the film was released in Long Play version (LP). The humming in the prelude bears a distant similarity with the humming in the song Ee Kaikalil. Still Shyam made it very effective communicating the melody with a pinch of sorrow. Great work. The percussion was silent in the first four lines accompanied by guitar chords. Maybe, because of his association with Salil Chowdhury that Shyam used oboe very effectively in the song (just listen to the song in between the lines nizhalaayi ozhuki varum njaan and Yaamangal thorum). Organ, Guitar, Oboe, Santoor, flute and a lot many instruments were synchronized to make this beautiful song. Though the song primarily moves along the notes of minor scale, the talented musician traverse through the A and B major notes to create the synergy that we all yearn for and only an intelligent composer can do.

Post Script.

•  I doubt that the song Kaanana Sadananthin Manimuttathu Alayunna  from Chekuthante Kotta (1967) written by P Bhaskaran, music by B A Chidambaranath  and sung by S Janaki belong to this genre. This matter is to be substantiated by those having exact information about the film and especially the song.
• The eighties also produced two good songs of these genre – Kaumaraswapnangal  from Aarathi (1981), with  music by M B Sreenivaasan and sung by S Janaki – a  song which harmonized two tracks by the same singer in a single song and Swararaagamaai from Pachavelicham(1985) with music by Shyam and sung by S Janaki.
• Anybody who knows the song Raathri Raathri  from Pattalam Janaki sung by P Madhuri can find its similarity with Aathire thiruvaathire  from Prethangalude Taazhvara. The haunting song Raathri Raathri is actually included in the record of film Penpuli. The music for Pattalam Janaki is composed by K J Joy and the song Raathri Raathri is composed by G Devarajan. But due to unknown reasons this song was deleted from the film Penpuli and included in Pattalam Janaki in a love scene.

There are a few songs which are haunting but not characterized by the features in the above songs. Hence such songs are also included. This includes songs sung by male singers also.

• Vasumathi Rithumati  from Gandharva Kshetram  set to music G Devarajan and sung by  K J Yesudas  – one of the excellent composition of Devarajan.
• Pakal Vilakku Anayunnu  from  Ithu Manushyano ? set to music by M K Arjunan  and sung by  P Jayachandran – the song is composed in Mayamaalava Gowla. The lyrics also narrate the eerie situation. A few days back, Asianet telecasted an interview with Thomas Berly, the director of the film.
• Vilakkevide  from Rest House  with music by M K Arjunan and sung by  C O Anto.
• Omanathingale  from Karutha Raathrikal set to music  by M S Baburaj  and sung by  S Janaki.
• Angane ennal from Ernakulam Junction with music by M S Baburaj  and sung by K J Yesudas.

Do write in about your haunted favorites too. 

അഴിമതിക്കാരനും കണ്ണിൽ ചോര ഇല്ലാത്തവനും സ്ത്രീ ലമ്പടനും ആയ ഉഗ്രവർമനെ ( ഉമ്മർ) കളിയാക്കാൻ കിട്ടിയ അവസരം അര കള്ളനായ നാഗനും (പ്രേംനസീർ ) മുക്കാൽ കള്ളൻ ആയ അരുവിക്കര തമ്പിയും (അടൂർ ഭാസി ) നന്നായി ഉപയോഗിക്കുന്ന ഒരു ഗാനമുണ്ട് – ചിത്രം ഏതാണ് എന്ന് ഇപ്പോൾ ചോദിക്കരുത്. പറയില്ല. കാരണം ഇനി പറയേണ്ട ആവശ്യമില്ല.

കേരളത്തിലെ സംഗീത ആസ്വാദകർ മാത്രമല്ല ഈ ഗാനം ഓർക്കുക. രാഷ്ട്രീയ രംഗത്ത് ഒരുപാടു മാറ്റങ്ങൾ വരുത്തിയ ഈ ഗാനം പിന്നീട് മലയാള സിനിമയിൽ വീണ്ടും അത്ഭുതങ്ങൾ സൃഷ്ടിച്ചു – അടിയന്തിരാവസ്ഥ കാലത്ത് കരുണാകരനെ കളിയാക്കി ഈ ഗാനം പാടി എന്ന കുറ്റത്തിന് എഞ്ചിനീയറിംഗ് വിദ്യാർത്ഥി ആയിരുന്ന രാജനെ പോലിസ് അറസ്റ്റ് ചെയ്തുവെന്നായിരുന്നു ഉയർന്നു വന്ന ഒരു ആക്ഷേപം. നക്സൽ ബന്ധം ആയിരുന്നു അറസ്റ്റ് കാരണം എങ്കിലും ഇങ്ങനെ ഒരു കഥ അന്ന് പ്രചരിച്ചിരുന്നു. (കനക സിംഹാസനത്തിൽ കയറി ഇരിക്കുന്നവാൻ ശുനകനോ വെറും ശുംഭനോ എന്ന് പാടിയ രാജൻ പക്ഷെ ശുംഭന് പ്രകാശിക്കുന്നവൻ എന്നൊരു അർഥം ഉള്ളത് അറിഞ്ഞു കാണില്ല, എഴുതിയ പി.ഭാസ്കരനും! ) കോഴിക്കോട്ടുള്ള കക്കയം പോലിസ് ക്യാമ്പിൽ മാരകവും ക്രൂരവും ആയ പീഡനങ്ങൾ സഹിച്ചു രാജൻ മരണത്തിനു കീഴടങ്ങി. ആ ജീവനറ്റ ദേഹം ക്യാമ്പിന്റെ പുറകിൽ പെട്രോൾ ഒഴിച്ച് കത്തിച്ചുവെന്നും തെളിവു് നശിപ്പിക്കാൻ അവിടെ നിന്നും അവ പിന്നീടു് മാറ്റിയെന്നും പോയി കേസ്. ഏതായാലുംഅന്നത്തെ അഭ്യന്തര മന്ത്രി കരുണാകരൻ പിന്നീട് മുഖ്യ മന്ത്രി ആയി പക്ഷെ മകന്റെ നീതിക്ക് വേണ്ടി പോരാടിയ ഈച്ചര വാര്യരുടെ പൊള്ളുന്ന മനസ്സിന്റെ ചൂടിൽ ആ കസേര ഒഴിയേണ്ടി വന്നു. പിന്നീട് ആ മനുഷ്യന്റെ ശാപം വിടാതെ പിടി കൂടിയ ലീഡർക്ക് സിംഹാസനങ്ങൾ ഓരോന്നായി ഒഴിയേണ്ടി വന്നു. ഇത് രാഷ്ട്രീയ ചരിതം. അവയൊന്നും നമ്മുടെ ഈ കഥയിൽ പറയുന്നില്ല. കാരണം ഇവിടെ നമ്മുടെ പ്രിയ സിനിമകളെക്കുറിച്ചുള്ള ചർച്ചാവേദി ആയതു കൊണ്ട് തന്നെ.

ഇനി സിനിമ ചരിത്രം.

ഈ സംഭവം രണ്ടു സിനിമകള്ക്ക് വിഷയമായി . മണിസ്വാമി സംവിധാനം ചെയ്ത രാജൻ പറഞ്ഞ കഥ ആയിരുന്നു ഒന്ന്. സമകാലിക വിഷയം എന്നതിലുപരി ആ ചിത്രത്തിന് മറ്റു മേന്മകൾ ഒന്നും ഉണ്ടായിരുന്നില്ല.ഷാജി എൻ കരുണ്‍ ഇതേ വിഷയത്തെ ആസ്പദമാക്കി സംവിധാനം ചെയ്ത ചിത്രമായിരുന്നു പിറവി (1988). അരവിന്ദന്റെ ക്യാമറമാൻ എന്ന പദവിയിൽ നിന്ന് സ്വതന്ത്ര സംവിധാനത്തിലേക്ക് കടന്ന ഷാജിയുടെ ആദ്യ ചിത്രം തന്നെ ഒരു അപൂർവ അനുഭവം ആയി.അതൊരു സംവിധായകന്റെ മാത്രം ചിത്രം അല്ലായിരുന്നു – ഈച്ചര വാര്യര് ആയി അഭിനയിച്ച പ്രേംജി എന്ന നടന്റെ അസാധ്യ പ്രകടനം ആണ് ലോകം കണ്ടത്.  പ്രേംജി സംസ്ഥാന, കേന്ദ്ര പുരസ്കാരങ്ങൾ നേടുമ്പോൾ പ്രായം 81 ! [ അന്നത്തെ സംസ്ഥാന പുരസ്‌കാരം രസകരമായ ഒന്നായിരുന്നു. മികച്ച നടൻ 81 വയസുള്ള പ്രേംജി, മികച്ച നടി 18 വയസ്സുള്ള അഞ്ജു - രുഗ്മിണി (1988) എന്ന ചിത്രം. ]

പിറവി (1988).

പ്രേംജി ജീവിച്ചിരുന്നെങ്കിൽ ഈ സെപ്റ്റംബർ 23-നു 105 വയസ്സായേനെ. ഒരർത്ഥത്തിൽ, മകന്റെ മരണവും അതിന്റെ കഥകളും തേടി അലയുന്ന ആ വൃദ്ധനെ മലയാള സിനിമയ്ക്കു കിട്ടാൻ 1974-ഇൽ ഇറങ്ങിയ അരകള്ളൻ വഴി തെളിച്ചുവെന്നു വേണം കരുതാൻ.

ചുരുക്കത്തിൽ പി ഭാസ്കരൻ എഴുതി ദക്ഷിണ മൂർത്തിസ്വാമി സംഗീതം നല്കി കെ ജെ യേശുദാസ്, പി ജയചന്ദ്രൻ എന്നിവർ അര കള്ളൻ മുക്കാൽ കള്ളൻ (1974) എന്ന ചിത്രത്തിന് വേണ്ടി ആലപിച്ച ഒരു ഗാനം എന്തൊക്കെ സംഭവങ്ങൾക്ക് ആണ് വഴി വച്ചത് !

കനക സിംഹാസനത്തിൽ കയറിയ ഗാനം.

The “Ormayil Ragini” program, an audio-visual exhibition that celebrates the life and times of Ragini, from the legendary Travancore Sisters is holding its 2013 edition at Ernakulam. To be held on 14 -14th September 2013, as a two-day program, it also combines an awareness initiative on Breast Cancer that brutally cut short Ragini’s life, with talks on the causes and care of the medical condition.

When : 14 – 15th September, 2013 from 10 am to 6 pm

Where : Achyutha Menon Mall ( Next to Ernakulam Public Library )

Entry : Free.

Organised by Manu J Krishnan, an ardent Ragini fan and a social activist, this commendable annual event to create awareness about breast cancer, which had claimed Ragini and Lalitha, combining it with a celebration of the life and times of the great actor, helps in keeping the sepia toned memories fresh and relevant, and wedded to a worthy cause.

Getting there.

If you are in Ernakulam for the weekend, this would be a great way to catch up on the life and times of Ragini, and the Travancore Sisters.

You can checkout the publicity poster of the event here.

A personal favorite   – Ragini in Nalla Theerpu (Tamil / 1959)

The Break of Dawn from Ulsavapittennu (1989)

I was just driving out of the garage to go to work at 5.30 am. The car window was down, and the cool, crisp air blew in my face. I wound the window up, and turned right, driving out of the gates. The sun was just coming up over the horizon, and the car stereo was playing “Arayilotta mundudutha Penne“, a song which I have heard innumerable times before. But this time the new sun just rising in front of me coincided with the lines “Aadimaasa Pularippenne“, and it struck me that this song is not about Jayabharathy in an Ottamundu, as I always imagined.

It is about an enchanting and lustrous new day dawning for us all! In fact, the whole song was about the day, how it starts out, and how it ends. That song made my day. It made me think about my favourite dawn songs. And here they are, in no particular order.

Arayilottamundudutha Penne from Oru Sundariyude Kadha (1972).

KJY/Vayalar/Devarajan.
In the scene we see Jayabharathy running away from a homeless man singing the song. I think the beautiful imagery of the song has been totally wasted in its picturisation.

Suprabhaatham from Pani Theeraatha Veedu (1973).

P Jayachandran / Vayalar / MS Viswanathan.
When I think of dawn, this is the first song which comes to mind. The freshness of Jayachandran’s voice, and the natural beauty of Nilgiris, and a happy Prem Nazir all rush back to my mind every time I hear this song.

Udayagiri Chuvannu from Aswamedham (1967)

P Susheela / Vayalar / Devarajan
Aswamedham was a milestone in Malayalam cinema, bringing the plight of leprosy patients to the attention of the masses. All songs in this movie were hits. But when I hear this particular song, it brings to mind the peachy sky of a new dawn (the charioteer of the sun drawing the flaming ball across the sky with the accompaniment of its thundering celestial hooves, heralding a positive, new beginning for all life on earth.

Prabhaathamallo Nee from Chandrakaantham (1974).

MS Viswanathan / Sreekumaran Thampi / MS Viswanathan.
MS Viswanathan has an important place in Malayalam film music, not just for the captivating compositions from way back in 1953 , all the way to 2007. He has also sung many emotionally charged songs for us, right from the unforgettable “Kannuneer Thulliye” in Pani Theeraatha Veedu (1973) to the most recent “Nadannu Nadannu” with Kavalam Sreekumar in Kunjananthante Kada.

“You are the breaking dawn, while I am dusk, our dreams the same,” sings he. “You smile as the lotus while I wallow in the tears of the water-lily. Singing the same tune, yet never able to kiss each other.”

Ushasse Neeyenne from Paadasaram (1978)

KJ Yesudas / AP Gopalan / Devarajan

Dawn, if you had not awakened me, I would never, never have woken up. Every new day is a new beginning. Let’s look forward to tomorrow.

Please write in with your favourites.

നെഗറ്റീവ് പബ്ലിസിറ്റി നല്ലവണ്ണം ഉപയോഗിച്ച ഒരാൾ മലയാളത്തിൽ സന്തോഷ്‌ പണ്ഡിറ്റ്‌ ആണ്. അഞ്ചു ലക്ഷം രൂപയ്ക്കു ഒരു ചിത്രം ഇറക്കി എന്ന് വാ തോരാതെ പറയുമ്പോഴും ചിത്രയും എം.ജി.ശ്രീകുമാറും പാടിയ ഒരു ചിത്രം അഞ്ചു ലക്ഷം രൂപയ്ക്കു തീരുമോ എന്ന ചോദ്യം ബാക്കി നിൽക്കുന്നു. ആദ്യ ചിത്രത്തിലെ “രാത്രി,ശുഭരാത്രി” എന്ന ഗാനം ചിത്രത്തിന്റെ ഷൂട്ടിംഗ് സമയം തന്നെ നെറ്റിൽ എത്തിയിരുന്നു. ചിത്രയും എം.ജി.എസും പാടിയ ഗാനങ്ങളെക്കാൾ കൂടുതൽ ആളുകൾ “കണ്ടതും” ഈ ഗാനം തന്നെ. എന്തു കൊണ്ടാണ്‌ “കണ്ടത്”എന്നു പറയുന്നത് ? പറയാം. സന്തോഷ്‌ പണ്ടിറ്റിന്റെ കോമാളി കളി (ക്ഷമിക്കുക, ഇതിലും മ്ലേച്ഛമാണു പലയിടത്തും ഉള്ള കമന്റ്സ്) കാണാൻ വേണ്ടി മാത്രം ആയിരുന്നു. പലരും പാട്ടിനേക്കാൾ കൂടുതൽ ശ്രദ്ധിച്ചത് അദ്ദേഹത്തെ ആയിരുന്നു. ഒരു തവണ മോണിറ്റർ ഓഫു ചെയ്തിട്ട് പാട്ട് മാത്രം കേട്ട് നോക്കൂ.. അത്ര തറയല്ലാന്നു തോന്നുന്നില്ലേ? പിന്നെ പ്രശ്നം ആ ശബ്ദം ആണ്. ഈ ഗാനം സന്തോഷ്‌ പണ്ഡിറ്റ്‌ അല്ലാതെ വേറെ ഒരാൾ, പണി അറിയാവുന്ന ഒരാൾ പാടിയിരുന്നെങ്കിൽ, എന്ന് തോന്നുന്നില്ലേ?

1981-ഇൽ ജെസ്സിയുടെ സംവിധാന മികവിൽ പുറത്തിറങ്ങിയ ഒരു ചിത്രം ആയിരുന്നു താറാവ്. നാല് ഗാനങ്ങൾ ഓ എൻ വി എഴുതി യേശുദാസ് സംഗീതം നല്കി . അതിൽ മൂന്നും യേശുദാസ് തന്നെ പാടി . ഇതിലെ ഒരു ഗാനം സിനിമയിൽ അവതരിപ്പിക്കുന്നത് മാള അരവിന്ദൻ ആണ്. സാധാരണ നായകന്മാര്ക്ക് വേണ്ടി യേശുദാസും സൈഡ് റോൾസ് ആണേൽ ആന്റോ, ബ്രഹ്മാനന്ദൻ തുടങ്ങിയവരും ആകും പലപ്പോഴും പാടുക. എന്നാൽ ഇവിടെ മാള അരവിന്ദനു വേണ്ടി യേശുദാസ് തന്നെ പാടി . അത് കഥാപാത്രം ആവശ്യപ്പെടുന്ന “കൊഞ്ഞ”യോട് കൂടി. ആ ചിത്രത്തിലെ മറ്റു ഗാനങ്ങളെക്കാൾ ശ്രോതാക്കൾ അന്ന് ആവശ്യപെട്ടിരുന്നത് “തക്കിടി മുണ്ടൻ താറാവിനെ” ആയിരുന്നു. യേശുദാസിന്റെ മയക്കുന്ന ആ ശബ്ദം ഇഷ്ടപെട്ട മലയാളികൾക്ക് നേരെ മുഖം തിരിച്ചു അന്നൊരു ദിവസം യേശുദാസ് !

വിസ എന്നൊരു ചിത്രം മാത്രമാണ് ബാലു കിരിയത്തിനു തന്റെ സംവിധാന ഗ്രാഫിൽ കാണിക്കാൻ ഉള്ളത് . അദ്ദേഹം മുകേഷിനെ വച്ച് സംവിധാനം ചെയ്ത പടമാണ് മായാജാലം.1998-ഇൽ തീയറ്ററുകളിൽ എത്തിയ ഈ ചിത്രത്തിൽ മുകേഷ് അഭിനയിച്ചു പാടുന്ന ഒരു ഗാനം ഉണ്ട് . ‘കല്യാണ കച്ചേരി പക്കല പാടാമെടി’. ഇതിന്റെ വരികൾ എഴുതിയത് ബിച്ചു തിരുമലയും സംഗീതം എസ് പി വെങ്കിടേഷ് വകയും. ഇതിന്റെ വരികൾ എന്താണ് എന്ന് എഴുതിയ ബിച്ചു തിരുമലക്കു പോലും പിടി ഉണ്ടാവില്ല. എങ്കിലും യേശുദാസ് പാടി. ഒരു പക്ഷെ ശ്രീ ബിച്ചുവിനോട് ഉള്ള പരിചയം കൊണ്ടാവാം . ബിച്ചു തിരുമല നല്ല ഒരു ഗാന രചയിതാവ് ആണ്, തർക്കമില്ല. പക്ഷെ ചിലപ്പോൾ പേരിനു എന്തെങ്കിലും എഴുതി ഉപേക്ഷിക്കും.

ഇനി പറയുന്ന രണ്ടു ഗാനങ്ങളോട് പലരും യോജിക്കില്ല എന്നതുകൊണ്ട്‌ തന്നെ എന്റെ മാത്രം അഭിപ്രായം ആണ് എന്ന പല്ലവി ഞാൻ വീണ്ടും പാടുന്നു. ക്രോണിക് ബാച്ചിലർ എന്നാ ചിത്രത്തിലെ ‘സ്വയംവര ചന്ദ്രികേ’, ബാബാ കല്യാണിയിലെ ‘കൈ നിറയെ വെണ്ണ തരാം’ – ഈ ഗാനങ്ങൾ പി.ജയചന്ദ്രനും വേണുഗോപാലും നല്ല അസ്സലായി പാടി. പക്ഷെ ക്രോണിക് ബാച്ചിലറിൽ മുകേഷ് ആയിരുന്നു രംഗത്ത് . പക്ഷെ പി.ജയചന്ദ്രന്റെ ശബ്ദം മുകേഷിന് ഒട്ടും ചേരുന്നില്ല എന്നത് തന്നെ. അത് പോലെ തന്നെ ആയിരുന്നു മോഹൻലാലിൻറെ ബാബാ കല്യാണി. മഹാസമുദ്രത്തിലെ ‘കണ്ടോ, കണ്ടോ,കടല് കണ്ടോ’ എന്ന ഗാനം പക്ഷെ ഇത്ര ചേർച്ചക്കുറവു തോന്നിയില്ല.

ഇനി പാട്ട് വിട്ടു അഭിനയം എടുത്താലോ ? നിങ്ങളിൽ പലരും ഓർമ്മിക്കുന്നോ എന്നറിയില്ല.”അമ്മാവനു പറ്റിയ അമളി” എന്നൊരു ചിത്രം. അതിലെ ഏറ്റവും വലിയ അബദ്ധം ആയി തോന്നിയത് നായകൻ ലാലു അലെക്സും വില്ലൻ വേഷത്തിൽ മുകേഷും എന്നതായിരുന്നു. തിരിച്ചായിരുന്നെങ്കിൽ ഒരു പക്ഷെ പടം പത്തു ദിവസം കൂടി ഓടിയേനെ !

റാഫി-മെക്കാർട്ടിൻ പൊതുവെ തമാശയുടെ ആളുകളാണ്. ആദ്യ ചിത്രമായ “പുതുക്കോട്ട..” മുതൽ നമ്മളെ നന്നായി ചിരിപ്പിക്കുന്ന ഇവർക്ക് കുഞ്ചാക്കോ ബോബനും ആയി എന്താണ് കാര്യം? ഒരു ഒന്നൊന്നര ചോദ്യമാണ്. ഇതാണ് “സത്യം,ശിവം,സുന്ദരം” എന്ന ചിത്രത്തിൽ പറ്റിയതും. പക്ഷെ കോമഡി അല്ല കുഞ്ചാക്കോ ബോബനെ ചതിച്ചത് . അതിലെ കഥാപാത്രം വളരെ ഗൌരവം ഉള്ളതാണ്. ശക്തി ഉള്ളതാണ്. അത്രേം വലിയ അത്രെയും വലിയ കഥാപാത്രത്തെ ചുമക്കാൻ, ഉൾകൊള്ളാൻ കുഞ്ചാക്കോ ബോബൻ നന്നേ പണിപെട്ടു. ഇത് പോലെ തലയിൽ വയ്ക്കാൻ പറ്റാതെ കുഞ്ചാക്കോ ബോബന് കാലിടറിയ ഒരു ചിത്രമാണ്‌ “കസ്തൂരിമാൻ” . ഒടുക്കം “ഗോഡ് ഫോർ സെയിൽ” എന്നാ ചിത്രത്തിലും കക്ഷി നന്നേ വിയർത്തു പണി എടുക്കുന്നത് കണ്ടു.

(അഭിപ്രായങ്ങൾ സ്വന്തമാണ്. തീർച്ചയായും വിഭിന്നമായ അഭിപ്രായം ഉണ്ടാകും എന്നറിയാം. സ്വാഗതം, സന്തോഷം.)

( SPOILERS AHEAD )

If we were to chart the journey of our inner minds, we would realize that the paths it chooses are part of an infinite maze. The mind ventures through these paths and when we have traveled too far in this maze, we are lost. A certain fear grips us because we no longer know the way out or the way back. We find ourselves surrounded by unfamiliarity and uncertainty. This is how the movie unfolds. A dream, wherein Dr Sunny (Mohan Lal) finds himself trapped in such a maze and wakes up in cold sweat. The dream is symbolic of our powerlessness over our own minds. This is also verbalized later in the movie – ‘Our minds are beyond us. They are not bound by the logic of our thoughts.’ In my opinion, this is a crucial aspect of human psychology which people (doctors and psychiatrists included) choose to overlook.

The movie introduces us to a very composed, reflective and composed Dr Sunny (quite different from the eccentric Dr Sunny in Manichithrathazhu) who has a personal interest in treating his patient Reshma (Amala Akkineni) with an acute psychosis condition -she is also the dear sister of his best friend.

Sunny is led to Reshma’s room, where he catches a glimpse of the trashed-out room, with Reshma crouching in a corner, in a highly agitated state. She is later brought to the hospital, and we see her less agitated, but with a vacant expression, suggestive of a dissociation from her surroundings. While she is managed with tranquilizers, Sunny probes into her background. He discovers a few clues in her diary. There are traits of heightened emotionality in her writings- letters to her mother who passed away when she was ten. Her brother adds that she had a transient psychotic episode when their mother had passed away.

Sunny tries to explore the trigger for the current psychotic episode. From the placards he shows her, he gathers that there is a connection with the sea, for Reshma becomes highly agitated when she sees a placard depicting the sea. With further clues, he associates it to the mysterious disappearance of her boyfriend, Arun. He subjects Reshma to hypnosis and elicits the whole story of how a mafia group closes in on the duo at the beach, and kill Arun, whose body is washed into the sea, while Reshma watches helplessly.

Amala as Reshma

Reshma’s psychosis is a portrayal of post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). PTSD is more common in women, especially if there is a history of childhood trauma (loss of a parent, in this case). When subsequently exposed to severe stress (witnessing Arun’s brutal murder in this case), these individuals are unable to come to terms with the event, and depict dissociation and avoidance to it. There is amnesia for the event – they resist remembering the details of the trauma and therefore do not allow themselves to experience the negative emotions associated with the trauma. The depict a phobia for this unpleasant memory. Any stimulus triggering a memory of the event can therefore cause severe agitation and psychosis (In this case, the sea placard, questions pertaining to the event, etc). The dissociation can be severe enough to hamper with their ability to concentrate and focus on their real life. They can also have recurrent nightmares relating to the event. In this case, at a conscious level, Reshma is aware of Arun’s death. But her unconscious resists this fact, creating a conflict between the two. Her unconscious suppresses the unpleasant memory/fact, and hence the name ‘Ulladakkam’.

Therapy for this disorder is essentially cognitive therapy and exposure therapy. The movie focusses on exposure therapy (helping the patient re-experience the event in real or imaginary terms so that they lose phobia for the components of the memory). Reshma is made to narrate the event and she is also given a guarded exposure to the sea, which cures her of her sea phobia. And thus, we see Reshma gradually recovering from her dissociation. She focusses on her surroundings and develops a special bonding with one of the inmates (Sukumari), in whom she sees a mother figure.

Her recovery is complicated by her fundamental emotional insecurity and dependent personality. When Sukumari is discharged from the asylum, Reshma’s unconscious seeks a strong replacement for Arun and she clings to Sunny. Sunny’s personality and his degree of involvement with Reshma makes it easy for her to transfer her emotions for Arun towards Sunny. With an unconscious that refuses to come to terms with Arun’s permanent loss, and that refuses to acknowledge the loss of a relationship in which Reshma’s involvement was overt (with dependence), Reshma’s unconscious tranfers the relationship to the receptive and reciprocative Sunny (the phenomenon of transference, described by Freud). And thus, her dependence shifts to Sunny.

The movie brings on an interesting statement in the conversation between Soman and Sunny – “Reshma’s behaviour has a definite basis/justification in psychiatry. However, it has no justification in our social set-up. It can only be misunderstood.” This is a very important statement because from time to time, we all experience such undefined emotions that have a psychological basis, but have no place in society. Fortunately, most of us do not have the courage to explore these emotions and follow the paths they would lead us to. However, for those few whose unconscious signals are too strong to be suppressed, the choice is between ignoring society and mental illness.

And thus, Reshma associates closely with Sunny, oblivious to the consequences of this emotional closeness. A sudden jolt in the form of a conversation she overhears brings her to this relaization, and she makes a conscious effort to dettach from Sunny. She succeeds (at the expense of the unabated emotions which are still seeking a recipient). Much to the relief of everybody else, she returns to a solitary world of books and thoughts.

The movie takes a final turn when at Sunny’s wedding party, Reshma finds herself disturbed by the sound of the drums and the sight of the drummer (Arun was a drummer). In a fit of psychosis, Reshma murders Sunny’s wife, Annie. This also goes on to highlight that while the conscious stores the event largely in the form of verbal memory, the unconscious stores a memory as an assortment of multiple perceptions (visual/auditory/tactile/olfactory), each associated with a certain stimulus. All these are eventually integrated to form the final memory which is then fed to the conscious for processing. My outlook on this second bout of psychosis is that though Reshma is cured of her phobia with regard to the traumatic event she witnessed, she has not come to acceptance of Arun’s loss. Her mind continues to resist this fact, and any stimulus which is a reminder of Arun’s loss, sets off the psychosis. The psychiatrist has addressed her PTSD, but not the underlying insecurity and dependence that is part of her personality.

I do not wish to explore the realism with which the other patients in the asylum are portrayed because that is not the focus of the movie. In my opinion, this movie is very sound in its exploration of PTSD and transference. The characterization of Reshma as a candidate for PTSD is brilliant. She is as human as any of us, perhaps more so. With a personality that is all emotionality and the loss of a parent early in her life, her quest for love and a sense of belonging supercede all her other needs from life. This pursuit is the central goal of her life. There is none of the certain selfishness and practicality that is essential in surviving (sanity intact) in a world where environmental stressors are inevitable.

In fact, this relative selflessness and the overt centering on the need for love characterize the fundamental personality of a good many individuals who become victims of certain mental illnesses.
Ousepachan’s BGM adds to the experience of the movie; it has a quality that compliments the mood of the movie and contributes to the sense of powerlessness and helplessness we experience as we live through Reshma’s emotional trauma.

And of course, the songs have their place- Pathira mazha in particular.

Pathiramazha from Ulladakkam (1991)

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2013 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

The Louvre Museum has 8.5 million visitors per year. This blog was viewed about 270,000 times in 2013. If it were an exhibit at the Louvre Museum, it would take about 12 days for that many people to see it.

Click here to see the complete report.

To the question of where the janitor of this place had been, for the past three months, here is the answer.

The last three months have been a whirlwind of activity, which was a natural culmination of another 5 months of extensive collation and sorting of archival material, digital assets and print to create the most extensive, exhaustive and engage tribute online, for an actor we have revered ( yes, I use that word after a lot of deliberation) onscreen – Bharat Gopy.

Yours truly have been lucky to have been part of the content team that have come together in building an website that would not only be the final word for all things Bharat Gopy ( yes, that is the official spelling of his name as per the official records, which a delightful surprise too), the scale at which each aspect has been planned would also ensure that it will be easily be a benchmark on how to build an online tribute for an actor in cinema, or for that matter, any remarkable game-changers in their creative domains. It was also a period of knowing up, close and personal about this multi-facted personality, through his personal writing (voluminous) which are mostly keynotes, essays and poems (a prolific poet !), and his deep, enlightening and incisive award winning books on cinema – Abhinayam, Anubhavam (1995) and theater – Nataka Niyogam (2002).

The unconditional contributions offered by many of the regular visitors to this adda, in terms of original content, editorial assistance, sourcing and sharing of video assets ( and we have some very rare ones, mind you ) have been overwhelming and equally humbling.

A video short film, which in part introduces the genius for the current generation, and in part introduces the website is also released, and will also form a part of the main website, which would be integrated onto it in a very aesthetic way, assures its technical team.

The technical team also wants to make its online launch an event to remember and would want all movie lovers interested to be a part of this.

Here is what you need to do on 28 January 2014, online.

Log in to Facebook, head over to www.facebook.com/BharatGopy Page, join in ( you could do it even now) at 10 am  on 28 January 2014,  and follow a simple instruction. They assure it would be a fitting tribute to let the world know of the actor of actors through the biggest electronic platform for social interaction and visibility on the planet.

I am so looking forward to this on 28 January 2014, and would love you all to be a part of it.

Murali Gopy’s Tribute to Bharat Gopy : The Actor of Actors.

This 16th marks the 25th year of passing of Malayalam cinema’s only Evergreen Hero, and the Kozhikode-based Prem Nazir Samskarika Vedhi, as with the previous year is organising a 3-day extended tribute to the actor.

Maybe a quarter century is an auspicious-enough number for the powers-that-be, that there has been celebrations galore announced by the state machinery to remember Prem Nazir. Minister for Culture, KC Joseph has announced that the government is still “searching” for a suitable location in Thiruvanathapuram to erect a life-size statue of the actor.

The Kerala government has also announced the ‘Prem Sruthi-2014‘, a tribute jointly organised by the Department of Culture, Kerala Film Development Corporation, Malayalam Cine Technicians Association, Association of Malayalam Movie Artists, Film Employees Federation of Kerala, Film Chamber and the Prem Nazir Foundation.

Coming back to the Prem Nazir Samskarika Vedi’s 3-day long tribute that kicks off on January 16, 2014, this year’s program include felicitating Director Sasikumar and actor Sudheesh, who completes 25 years in movies this year, who also hails from Kozhikode.

The Publicity Handbill of the Program.

3-day tribute to Prem Nazir by the Prem Nazir Samskarika Vedi – 2014

The venue is the Kozhikode Townhall which will host all the three days of festivities. The organisers are also bringing back the popular Film Posters and Photographs Exhibition of Prem Nazir which was a hit with the visitors all the years.

You can keep yourself updated of the events through the Facebook Page of Prem Nazir Samskarika Vedi.

For more information, call on 9446391370.

Image Courtesy & Credit : My Recipe 4 U

After a two-month hiatus, the adda has been dusted, mopped and spruced up – in a way, the sprucing up bit was badly needed, to keep in tune with the times.

Here is how the “sprucing up” has manifested in terms of Content and Design.

1. The Blog Is Responsive.

Which simply means that the blog now “adapts” to whichever device you are reading it on, be it your Smart phone, tablet, laptop or your desktop seamlessly so that you can now access it On-the-Go.Simply put, the sepia trip is now enabled across all screens.

2. An online compilation of Books on Malayalam and Indian Cinema.

Thanks to Adv Narayan, we now have a repository of book titles authored on and by film makers, both from Malayalam and Indian Cinema, which you can access on the Main Navigational Bar as the OMC Library. Yours truly has just begun “serving” the exhaustive list in a web-friendly manner and is a work in progress which is intended to finish soon. Each Book Title would be linked to its source of publishing ( if available online) or linked to its Offline address source so that you would know exactly where and how to get it. Once the primary set is done with, we would start adding titles from popular online book shops linked back to their product pages. All thanks to Adv Narayan.

3. A highly engaging and attractive way to feature the Profile Archives.

Thanks to the new adopted theme, the Profiles of various film makers compiled here at the blog ( more as archives of posts of the personality) has now been displayed in a highly engaging and informative way. It is again showcased from the Main Navigational Bar than runs right across the beginning of the blog under Profiles. You could check it out here.

Nearing Completion / Coming Soon.

1. A more Prominent Showcase of the Contributors to this Blog.

I believe this adda owes a lot of its success to the different flavors ( for want of a better term ) brought in by an invaluable bunch of contributors who pitch in, regardless of their grueling schedules and professional commitments to share their knowledge on Malayalam cinema here. It is only fair that their contributions be showcased prominently and never relegated to hard-to-find Links in the swirling content. So we are going to switch on the spotlight soon, on every single of them. :)

2. An Updated Video Gallery powered by the popular video sharing sites.

Yours truly have mulled, ruminated, considered, shot down, re-considered, weighed in and then again mulled over this for quite some time. The point of contention boiled down to “legal reliability” of the media found on the popular video sharing sites. After personally getting in touch with the most popular uploaders – both with media company monikers and personal accounts, I have narrowed down on a list of video content providers whose movies would be shared here at the blog as a separate section, in an alphabetic format. It would also be tagged with its year of release and the Director, so that one could easily search and find full-length Malayalam classics in a separate Video Gallery.

So there.

Do keep writing in with your suggestions, corrections and additional information on relevant posts. Together, it would make each post here a worthwhile fount of information on the topic, helpful for anyone interested in Malayalam cinema’s yester years.

And thank you all, once again, for being around.

From the Thin Red Line (1998)

Big B, Kamal Haasan, Rajni, Mammootty and Mohanlal to share screen in film project launched by Defence Ministry.

The Defence Ministry is all set to enter the tinsel town. For the welfare of the armed forces and to gather funds for the military, the Defence Ministry has come up with a unique idea of creating a movie that lauds patriotism. Last month Defence minister A.K. Antony and film directors J.P. Dutta and Major Ravi (Malayalam) had a detailed discussion regarding this project. Dutta and Ravi have since then submitted their thoughts to the Ministry.

In a joint statement issued by the Ministry, Dutta and Major Ravi- the plot line of the movie was revealed. – “India is under attack. Terrorists have launched a six pronged attack. They have targeted South, West, East, North and Central India. The Key centers are in 6 different parts of India (Chennai, Mumbai, Calcutta, Delhi, Hyderabad, Assam and Kerala). The Government gears up into action. The top brass of Indian defence- both in service and retired are summoned to Delhi. Yesteryear heroes like Dilip Kumar, Madhu, Jeetendra, Dharmendra, Shatrughan Sinha etc. will be portraying these roles. Nana Patekar, Om Puri and Nazeeruddin Shah will portray the top brass of Indian politics. Anyway they are unanimous in opinion that only one man is there to task manage the whole issue. The duty of task management is handed over to a Field Marshal (played by Amitabh Bachchan).

Major Ravi – Filmmaker

He coordinates the situation across India. The first task Bachchan takes is to find out the best, and brave people in each region to combat the terrorists. Thus the duty of South India falls upon Kamal Haasan, Rajanikant, Mohanlal and Mammootty; of Hyderabad with Nagarjuna and Chiranjeevi, Delhi with Shahrukh Khan, Amir Khan and Salman Khan etc.” This would be the Expendables of our movie industry- said Major Ravi. “Bachchan’s character would control everything from Delhi. Thus is born our desi Dirty Dozen. How they control everything and how within 24 hours everything gets all right forms the plot of the movie. Only in the climax would all the great actors of India come together.” Major Ravi sounded upbeat about this project. Himself a decorated army officer, Major Ravi was involved in the team that investigated the death of Rajiv Gandhi. His movies in Malayalam have all been centered in the world of army. Ravi also had introduced Big B to Malayalam cinema.

Prem Nazir in Ninamaninja Kaalpaadukal

This magnum opus project is tentatively titled India. The Ministry of Defence would request each actor to join this project, sans remuneration. “In this way we can gather the much needed resources for our defence forces” said a top defence official. Planned as a multi-lingual movie – it is also hoped to rope in regional stars for the project, with regional stars assisting the superstars of the region concerned. AR Rahman will score the music while Resul Pookutty will also be involved with the movie. However, JP Dutta added that the title of the movie is still tentative, and he would seek clarification from the Home Department on whether the word “India” can be used to promote a movie.

Major Ravi said that a project of this kind had happened in Malayalam called Twenty Twenty wherein each and every actor of Malayalam joined hands for a movie. However, this would be the first time actors across the nation join hands for a project of this magnitude.

To the question asked by is whether there top actresses of the nation would make appearance in the movie, Ravi answered that there will be only cameo appearances. We plan to cast Hemamalini, Sarada, Jaya Pradha, Shobhana, Aiswarya Rai and other famous actresses of India as the women waiting and praying for their near and dear ones in an extended song sequence.“ This is a full-blown action filled movie. And there are only few female roles. The part of the Prime Minister is proposed to be portrayed by Shabhna Azmi.”

However, the Ministry’s decision has come up for sharp criticism from the BJP. Ms. Meenakshi Lekhi, the National spokesperson for BJP commented that “as much as we welcome a move to harness funds for our defence forces, coming up with a plan on the eve of the elections being announced – reeks of malafide intent. It also would amount to violation of the Code of Conduct. However, the Defence Minister was quick to point out that politics and code of conduct should not prove a barrier for the welfare of our jawans. With a wry smile he also pointed out that though there is difference in political ideology sitting MPs like Shatrughan Sinha, Chiranjeevi, Hema Malini, Jaya Prada and Jaya Bachchan are involved with the project and requested that a project of this multitude should not be hampered by petty political differences.

India is set to hit the screens on April 1st 2015. The film makers and the crew, along with me wishes each and every one of you a HAPPY ALL FOOLS DAY.

:)

[ This came originally as a detailed response from Sajith Bhaskaran to a post here on S Janaki, and knowing the amount of information he manages to pack to each response, strongly warranted a "place" of its own, and hence this post. S Jankai, P Madhuri and G Devarajan have always been an intersting trio for any Malayalam music buffs who care about Malayalam Film Playback history, for the musical creativity and output between them and a certain degree of intrigue that surrounded the great music director's choices in vocals over some of the best-loved gems from Malayalam films of yore. Over to Sajith. ]

This is a note on the post of yours on the songs of S Janaki. Your selection of songs traverses through the path of Malayalam film music right from the sixties to the nineties.

In fact, HMV, in the late sixties released an album of selected songs of S Janaki and a few songs in that list are also found among your favourites.

The S Janaki Malayalam Hits Compilation LP brought out by HMV

The Playlist of the LP Compilation was as follows :

1. Keshaadi Paadam Tozhunne
Film : Pakal Kinaavu
Lyrics : P Bhaskaran
Music : B A Chidambaranath

2. Gopura Mukalil Vaasantha Chandran
Film : Vithukal
Lyrics : P Bhaskaran
Music : T K Pukazhenthy

3. Kannil Kannil Nokki Irunnal
Film : Danger Biscuit
Lyrics : Sreekumaran Thampi
Music : V Dakshinamoorthi

4. Taliritta Kinakkal
Film : Moodupadam
Lyrics : P Bhaskaran
Music : M S Baburaj

5. Oru Kochu Swapnathin
Film : Tharavaattamma
Lyrics : P Bhaskaran
Music : M S Baburaj

6. Vaasantha Panchami Naalil
Film : Bhaargavi Nilayam
Lyrics : P Bhaskaran
Music : M S Baburaj

7. Unarunaru Unni Poove
Film : Ammaye Kaanaan
Lyrics : P Bhaskaran
Music : K Raghavan

8. Unaru Vegam Nee Suma raani
Film : Moodal Manju
Lyrics : P Bhaskaran
Music : Usha Khanna

9. Aathira Kulirulla Raavilinnoru
Film : Madhuvidhu
Lyrics : ONV
Music : M B Sreenivaasan

10. Chirikkumbol Koode Chirikkan
Film : Kadal
Lyrics : Sreekumaran Thampi
Music : M B Sreenivaasan

11. Anjana Kannezhuthi
Film : Thacholi Othenan
Lyrics : P Bhaskaran
Music : M S Baburaj

12. Kanmaniye Kanmaniye
Film : Kaarthika
Lyrics : Yusufali Kecheri
Music : M S Baburaj

This record was very popular at that time and these songs subsequently appeared in the cassettes titled Hits of S Janaki in the 70s. It is very curious to note that even a single song composed by G Devarajan appeared in this list ?

What had always piqued my curiosity was why Devarajan chose P Susheela and P Madhuri for most of his songs. However, M S Baburaj was the musician who composed most of the so-called “ever-lasting classics” for S Janaki.

Five songs in the above list were composed by M S Baburaj, two by M B Sreenivasan and one each from K Raghavan, V Dakshinamoorthy, B A Chidambaranath, T K Pukazhenthy and Usha Khanna. The selection of the above songs also missed at least one song from A T Ummer and R K Sekhar who too had composed a part  of her popular hits repertoire.

In the nineties, Compact Discs appeared and in the year 1998 HMV released its first disc of S Janaki Hits (Digitally re-mastered in .wav format with 21 songs).

The price of the CD was Rs. 275 !  To the existing LP list of songs, HMV added 9 more tracks, as follows :

[ Please click on the song title to listen to the tracks ]

1. A very interesting film directed by John Abraham. Students of a school while playing football break the statue of the founder of the school. The film unfolds the efforts of the teachers and students to collect funds for installing a new statue in its place. They succeed in their efforts and the new statue is installed. The film ends with another bunch of students playing football and again breaking the new statue.

2. This song has a another version set in a different tune and different BGM sung by yesudas – A rare phenomenon of a same song having different tunes

3. In the CD version, the songs of A T Ummer and R K Sekhar appeared.

M S Baburaj was so fond of the voice of S Janaki like Madanmohan or Salil Chowdhury addicted to Lata Mangeshkar. S Janaki was the favourite of M B Sreenivasan, V Dakshinamoorthy, A T Ummer, K Raghavan, T K Pukazhenthy and R K Sekhar. Still I feel that all music directors composed for S Janaki and they all are very good songs. It was just that some lavishly adored her vocal prowess with their compositions, but others were  a little bit choosy, in their own professional ways.

As usual, would love to know your thoughts on this. Do write in.

Pix Credit : http://www.pradipsomasundaran.com/

[ Another treasure "reclaimed" from the defunct archives of DHOOL. Republishing Saravanan Natarajan's tribute to Raveendran Master, written in the year of his passing, in 2005. Saravanan takes you through the 7 Tamil movies of Raveendran Master, amongst which are surprisingly, the Tamil versions of "Ezhu Swarangalum" and "Thenum Vayambum" !  ]

Ganga Creations’ Hemavin Kaadhalargal must have been years in the making, for while it was released in 1985, the EP sleeve of the movie mentions its year of manufacture as 1982. The film was produced by Ganga and was the second film of the acclaimed Malayalam director T.V.Chandran. Though Chandran had commenced his career as an actor in P. A. Backer’s Kabani Nadi Chuvannappol, he realized his true calling when he directed his first film Krishnankutty in 1981. Hemavin Kaadhalargal was his second film, and also his only outing in Tamil. In later years he crafted some of Malayalam cinema’s finest films like Alicinte Anveshanam, Ponthan Mada, Ormakalundayirikkanam, Mangamma, Susannah, Danny, Padam Onnu: Oru Vilapam and the recent Kathavasheshan.

About Hemavin Kaadhalargal (1985)

I gleaned the story outline of Hemavin Kaadhalargal from a staid and taciturn colleague who suddenly opened up when we were talking about the life and times of Raveendran. The mention of Hemavin Kaadhalargalmust have touched a long forgotten chord in him, for he leaned forward and asked us shyly if any of us had seen the film, and as we listened in pleasant surprise, he went on to pay a glowing panegyric to the bold theme and the genius of its brilliant director. As the title indicates, the film revolved around Hema (played by Anuradha ) and her elusive search for a perfect spouse. She finds herself drawn to one of the two young men who come her way, and marries him. But she is soon disenchanted by his narrow, male chauvinistic attitude, and walks out of what had become a stifling wedlock. She then finds the man of her dreams, an idealistic, fiery labour leader. But she realizes that she is unlucky the second time too, and his untimely demise leaves her shattered. Nevertheless life must go on for the living, and Hema continues her quest, undeterred.

Besides Anuradha, the film had in its cast Delhi Ganesh, Vijayamohan, Sabita Anand and others. The dialogues were written by writer Ramanichandran.

Raveendran’s debut in Tamil – Hemavin Kaadhalargal (1985)

It was Hemavin Kaadhalargal then, which marked the debut of the gifted Raveendran (1943-2005) in the Tamil film industry. Raveendran’s Tamil film albums amount to a paltry 7, but his genius glitters in each one of them, and the songs live on to tell the tale of the man behind the music.

Paarvai Theril from Hemavin Kaadhalargal (1985)

As you listen to “Paarvai Theril“, you realise  Raveendran’s imagination is in full play here, and right from the unconventionally structured pallavi, the song traverses along some unexplored, exciting paths. SPB seems to have given Raveendran a joyous welcome to Tamil film music, for he simply captivates with his magic. Hark at his stifled chuckle just before ‘punnagai allum..’, and how he smiles, sulks, cajoles, teases, woos and exults…what a singer !

Besides this, the movie had one other song - the spellbinding ‘Kaalai poove nee vaa’, where S Janaki summons to kaleidoscopic life the magical vistas envisaged by Raveendran. Raveendran was next heard in 1986, when as a sudden delightful deluge, 4 movies carrying his music were released, filling discerning fans with joy.

Kanmaniye  Pesu ( 1986 )

Kanmaniye Pesu  ( Aieres Cine Arts ), released in January 1986, was Rajasekar’s adaptation of Ramesh Talwar’s Hindi film Baseraa (1981). The film starred Sivakumar, Lakshmi, Ambika, Ganga & Ashwini. A lesser MD might have baulked at the thought of working on a film in whose original RD Burman had given some unforgettable songs. But the unassuming Raveendran vindicated the confidence that Rajasekar placed in him, and came out with some stunners. SJ’s ‘nalam paaduven nee vaazhathaan’, for me, ranks notches above Lata’s Baseraa equivalent ‘jahaan pe sawera ho, basera wohi hai’. Raveendran’s intricate piano and violin filigrees, and SJ’s remarkable rendition of the convoluted charanam lines makes the song very, very special.

Jahan  pe sawera ho from Baseraa (1981)

KJY’s ruminative ‘maname mayangaadhe vidiyum kalangaadhe’, Chitra’ spirited ‘vilakku vechcha’, MV & Chitra’a joyous ‘vaanam engaL ellai’ are all noteworthy compositions.

Rasigan oru Rasigai (1986)

Rasigan oru Rasigai ( Vasan Brothers ) followed in February. Directed by Balu Anand, the film starred Satyaraj, Ambika, Ramesh, Janani and others. This album remains Raveendran’s best effort in Tamil. With an ensemble of singers like Yesudas, Jayachandran, Malaysia Vasudevan, S.Janaki and Vani Jairam, and a team of lyricists like Vaali, Pulamaipithan, M.G.Vallaban and Gangaiamaran,

Paadi azhaithen from Rasigan oru Rasigai (1986)

Raveendran came out with some timeless treasures. KJY’s ‘yezhisai geethame’ and ‘paadi azhaithen’, though re-purposed from Raveendran’s creations in Chiriyo chiri and Thenum Vayambum, made Tamil film music  connoisseurs sit up and take notice of the composer.

Yezhisai Geethame from Rasigan oru Rasigai (1986)

VJ’s ‘Kaatrinile varum geetham’ is a fine racy number soaked in pristine classical notes. SJ’ s ‘unakkaagave naan uyir vaazhgiren’ fills the listener’s heart with a quiet rapture. And right from the opening humming, JC & SJ’s ‘amma adi amma sugam summa varuma’ thrills in the startling unpredictability of Raveendran’s arrangements.

Kaatrinile varum geetham from Rasigan oru Rasigai (1986)

‘Velli mookku minna minna’ has KJY enjoying a rare rustic outing, with his drawl on ‘kazhuthai saththam nalla sagunam’ adding to the appeal. MV’s ‘naadu nalla naadu’ catches your fancy even as the song unfolds with an unorthodox choral humming.

Velli mookku from Rasigan oru Rasigai (1986)

Deepavali fell on 1st November that year, and with it came two of Raveendran’s films, among a host of many high profile releases. Remember, Ilaiayraja’s landmark Punnagai Mannan, along with a formidable array like Aruvadai Naal, Kannukku mai ezhuthu, Thazhuvaatha KaigaL, Vidinja Kalyaanam and Maaveeran were all released on that day. In the midst of this enchantment, it is a wonder that Raveendran’s two albums too elicited notice.

Lakshmi Vandhaachu (1986)

Lakshmi vandhaachu ( Aieres Cine Arts ) was one of the two Deepavali releases of M Raveendran. “The Hindu” Rangarajan (who had produced Kanmaniye Pesu too) was the producer, and Rajasekar was the director again. The film was an adaptation of Hrishikesh Mukherjee’s Khubsurat. Sivaji Ganesan, Padmini, Revathi, Nizhalgal Ravi and Jayachitra were in the cast. SJ’s ‘Kaadhal vennila kannil vandhadhu’ showcases Raveendran in his scintillating elements, and not surprisingly the song could effortlessly claim a rightful share of airtime.

Kaadhal vennila kannil vandhadhu from Lakshmi Vandhachu (1986)

‘Kaalam kanindhadhu’ (KS Chitra) and ‘Sandhana nilavoli’ (MV coming out unscathed in this complex classical number!) are other enticing contents of the album.

Dharma Devathai (1986)

The other Deepavali’ 86 release of Raveendran was AVM’s Dharma Devathai . The film starred Vijayakanth, Radhika, Pallavi and Saratbabu. ‘Thodu thodu vaa mella’ (KJY/SJ) was the pick of the album. The sudden ‘Entharo mahanubhavulu’-ish Veenai flourish in the second interlude is such an imaginative touch! ‘Idhu natta nadu raathiri (SJ) and ‘Oorukku uzhaithaal’ (SPB) are other songs that I recall from the film.

Thodu thodu vaa from Dharma Devathai (1986)

Thaaye Neeye Thunai (1987)

1987 followed with Thaaye neeye thunai (Bhuvaneswari Kalamandir) releasing for Pongal. The film was directed by P.R.Somasundar, and like devotional films of yore, had a crowded cast – Karthik, Pandiyan, KR Vijaya, Nalini, Pallavi, Sudha Chandran, Srividya and many others. Raveendran worked with a bevy of lyricists like Vaali, Muthulingam, Ponnaruvi, Chidambaranathan and Thirupathooran, to come with a good album. ‘Koo kuyile kaadhal kavikkuyile’ is dainty duet by SPB & VJ. ‘Bhuvaneswari arul puri aadhari’ (KJY/Chitra) is a fervent, emotional appeal to the Almighty. Chitra’s ‘chellakkiliye’ is a caressing lullaby.

Bhuvaneswari from Thaaye Neeye Thunai (1987)

Malare Kurinji Malare (1993)

The last Tamil movie that came out with Raveendran’s music was produced by  Raja Movie Productions. This film too was some years in the making. It was directed by A. Parthiban. An obscure Raja Venkatesh was the hero, while Seetha played his pair. Raveendran had sung in this album- the song ‘deepangale neengaL vizhi moodinaal’ is a veritable aural treat. ‘Kaadhal paingiliye’ (KS Chitra), ‘Vaa ilayavane’ (KJY/ Chitra), ‘Aathoram’ ( Mano/Chitra) are other memorable songs in the album.

Vaa ilayavane from Malare Kurinji  Malare (1993)

With Malare Kurinji Malare (1993), Raveendran bid adieu to Tamil film music. His stay here was woefully brief, yet he has left behind some fleeting glimpses of his infinite capabilities. He will live on in our hearts, and his songs would continue to fascinate generations of fans.

Suraj Venjarummodu in Kerala Cafe (2009)

Apparently, there is more to Suraj Venjarammoodu than the done-to-death dialect, tasteless mimicry and cringe-worthy comedy.  Like Salim Kumar did a few years back in Adaminte Makan Abu, Suraj Venjaramoodu has turned in a fine performance in Perariyathavar which has won him the coveted Award, that he shares with Rajkummar Rao (Shahid – Hindi).

According to the jury, he was chosen for the award,

“for the dignified and quiet portrayal of a man on the lower margins of the society. His turmoil struggles and sufferings are soulfully brought out with subtle body language and eyes which transcend words.”

Credit goes to Director Dr.Biju for bringing out this face of Suraj Venjaramoodu. Dr.Biju also takes home the Award for Best Film on Environment Conservation/Preservation for the same film.

Other Winners in Malayalam Cinema include D Yuvaraj for Best Audiography  (Re-recordist of the final Mixed Track) for Swapaanam and Cristo Tomy for Best Debut Film of a Director for Kanyaka.

North 24 Katham directed by Anil Radhakrishnan Menon and produced by Surya Cine Arts was chosen as the best Malayalam Feature Film in the Regional Films Category.

Suraj Venjaramoodu on the origins of his “trademark dialect” that pigeon-holed him.