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Wednesday, May 26, 2010

A red rose

The pleasant mandolin ring tone passed strides through the air kissing others’ ears before reaching mine. I hurried to pick my mobile on the table. Never do I miss changing it to silent mode on entering office. But today nothing went as planned. I was late to work. Managed to barge in just a minute before 8, else would have costed me half a day's leave.

"How long have I been trying your land line...En late aachu? tiffin saaptiya?"(Translating: Why did it get late? Did you have your breakfast)
- That was the accustomed tone of my mother. "Yes ma, I had” - I mumbled. "What was there for breakfast? Did your friend come or did you have to have all alone?" - I wonder how ammas have so much patience. Never can I match her, not even at twice her age!
"inniki vazhila konjam late aaydthu ma...vandi problem..."(I got delayed. My vehicle broke down) I whispered. Surprisingly she dint ask me for minutiae. There was a ceremony at home which kept her busy, not letting her nudge for more details. Double-checking my phone's profile after putting it to silent mode, I got back to the decoding algorithm which I had left in a wrenched clumsy state the previous evening. Clocking some 9 and odd hours at office, I called it a day. Commuting to office on my scooty suited me better than the free cab facility. I enjoyed the ride. I wore a helmet while on state-maintained roads. And on other roads, I enjoyed the wind on my face and my hair strands dancing to the tune of the wind.

Early next day, around 7 in the dawn, as I neared my scooty I saw a fresh red rose wedged to its handle. Its sense and color gave me a breath of fresh air. Graciously scented, the rose bestowed the best start to my day. I had time left only to put on my head gear and kick start the vehicle. (I follow this honestly - first time in the day I never yoke the electric button cuddled and chilled over night.) I was more surprised than shocked by this incident and as the day heralded, thoughts of the color and the flower gradually faded.
 
The flower surprise recurred the following day. Surprise now turned into suspicion. The red rose did brighten my eyes but the retina reflected fear. Time not permitting I did not pause to look around.

A red rose continued to bedeck my scooty every morning. I cared not to share this with my mother for her stereotype mind would start roving into houses of my locality with deserving well-aged guys. I neither spoke to my friends about this because they will never let go a single chance to take best fun out. They have laughed enough on me and the state of affairs that have orbited me in the past. I did not wish to give them another prospect. They haven’t yet got over the
guy by the coffee machine (yet another story, please follow the link if interested). I, for myself dint have time to spy for the rose girl/guy/angel in the morning hours. I had time only for the bare minimum things in the morning...On many days I would go to office with my hair knotted shabbily... “Software velaki poraya corporation office la vela pannariya?” (Translating: Do you work for a software company or for the metropolis?) - amma has whimpered many a times.

With days, suspicion turned into trepidation. I decided to take time and hide by my compound to seize the person behind the red rose. I succeeded! My eyes caught a little girl, a flower seller cautiously tucking a red rose between the handle and the body of my scooter. With no delay I ran to her. Yes, I knew this little flower girl. I recollected the face slapped red by the cruel autumn winds and the weary eyes. She greeted me “Akka, do you remember me? You thumped your vehicle on to the big tree by the roadside to save my flowers from toppling into the gutter. I was heading to deliver roses for a big order that day; if not for you, I would not have made up the last sum to pay my exam fees. I have nothing but these roses to show you my gratitude. I leave one on your vehicle every day.” The quivering hands that once looked pleading for flowers to be bought today looked composed. The shadowy eyes with quiet reveries looked confident today. I ran past a few pages of my life to stop by the episode when I had got late to work with my broken vehicle. Yes, it was an eventful day and I hadn’t realized it! I wished the best for her and thanked her for making my everyday beautiful with her unsullied unsurpassed red rose.

I kick-started my scooty, greeted the roadblock (hump) unusual to my true self (I normally groan), deserted the helmet enjoying every moment of the breezy ride. I knew the tune and sang along as it blew, to a rhythm of satisfaction with words of pride!

Monday, May 10, 2010

Layers of creative allegories

How could I miss this beautiful composition? I was long acquainted with this piece but overlooked the niceties in it. I have always been a great fan of “Godavari” which should have made a bigger hit than it really did make. 've been waiting to have a similar holiday as in this movie, a perfect blend of nature and divinity, both at their best. The lyrics are unsurpassed. I could understand the framework to a degree on first hearing but a closer understanding (Thanks to amma) sent a sense of excitement thro’ my spine that there could be no different heaven; Never better!

Rama chakkani Seethaki from the telugu movie Godhavari is poignant in my thoughts for the last few weeks. This one is a magical alchemy of the best lyrics and melody.

raama chakkani seetaki aracheta gorinta
inta chakkani chukkaki inkevaru mogudanta


udata veepuna velu vidichina pudami alludu raamude
edama chetanu Sivuni villunu ettina aa raamude
ettagalada seeta jadanu taali katte vaelalo


raama chakkani seetaki

erra jaabili cheyyi gilli raamudaedani adugutunte
choodalaedani pedavi cheppe cheppalaemani kanulu cheppe
nalla poosainadu devudu nallani raghuraamude

raama chakkani seetaki

chukkanadigaa dikkunadigaa chamma gillina choopunadigaa
neeru pongina kanulalona neeti teralae addu niliche
choopukomani manasu telipe manasu maatalu kaadhuga

raama chakkani seetaki arachetha gorinta
inta chakkani chukkaki inkevaru mogudanta
raama chakkani seetaki


The transliteration in English goes as below:(Map the colors to map the translation)

"Prettify Rama’s much-loved Seetha’s palm with mehendi (gorinta). Who else other than Rama could be this star’s companion?"

"Rama is the son by law to Earth (Seetha s the daughter of mother Earth) and he is the one who left his fingerprints on the body of the squirrel giving that tiny animal a divine stature. He hauled up Lord Shiva’s bow in one hand, the left hand. Can this brave man lift Seetha’ plaited hair to knot the mangalsutra(taali) during wedding ritual?"

"All going good, Rama is not to be seen anywhere. The rising moon, (articulated as) red moon asks for Rama, pinching Seetha’s hand. While Seetha’s lips signal that they haven’t see Him, her eyes utter that they can’t reply. Our black hued Rama has become the sanctified black beads(kari mani/ nallapusu) of divine Seetha Devi."

"I asked the stars, I questioned the directions, and I asked the tears that filled the eyes. The tears are themselves acting as barriers preventing them from running down the eyes. My heart is pushing me to express myself, but do I listen to my heart?"

What a masterpiece!!!!!!!!!!!

My heart raced for a brief second. I could almost envisage the twosome wedded in a divine knot.Our composer fast-forwards in time and visualizes complete Ramayana and comes back to get Rama married to Seetha. The episode of the squirrel comes during the edifice of the bridge to reach Lanka. Rama is the super hero. He is praised beyond words, but Seetha Devi is lauded beyond Rama. What a composition!!!

The lyricist(Veturi Sundara Ramamurthy) has brilliantly expressed Seetha’s wariness and her eloquent beauty. Seetha is being painted as an angel in human cloak.->(While Seetha’s lips signal that they haven’t see Him, her eyes utter that they can’t reply. )

The lyrics took me on a musical experience! So light on the ears, yet heavy on heart!
I have been lucky enough to have grown up reading and listening to tales from our epics. But this kind of lyrics never appears custom though they revolve around the same central theme. Layers of creative allegories mark this composition. Phrase it as divinely romantic or romantically divine. I am enjoying it every bit, more with each time I listen!

Revathi Sridharan