బ్రోవ భారమా రఘు రామా
భువనమెల్ల నీవై యుండ నన్నొకని
శ్రీవాసుదేవ అండకోట్లు
కుక్షిని యుంచుకొనలేదా
కలశాంబుధి లో దయతో నమరులకు
గోపికలకై కొండలెత్తలేదా కరుణాసాగర త్యాగరాజుని
brOva bhaaramaa raghu raamaa bhuvanamella neevai yuMDa nannokani Sreevaasudaeva aMDakOTlu kukshini yuMchukonalaedaa kalaSaaMbudhi lO dayatO namarulaku gOpikalakai koMDalettalaedaa karuNaasaagara tyaagaraajuni
brOva bhaaramaa raghu raamaa bhuvanamella neevai yuMDa nannokani Sreevaasudaeva aMDakOTlu kukshini yuMchukonalaedaa kalaSaaMbudhi lO dayatO namarulaku gOpikalakai koMDalettalaedaa karuNaasaagara tyaagaraajuni
(Only two contemporary renditions captured my attention. One by the great original vocalist, Dr. Balamuralikrishna and the other by Bombay Jayasri. When we closely listen to the former musical stalwart, we can feel the spontaneity, the emotion, and his total authenticity. He can feel the meaning of each word, each syllable, and the agony of Tyagaraja. Music automatically follows when you know the language, the underlying depth of meaning, and when you dissolve totally into the vast emotional currents of “true feeling or bhakti”. You cannot fake it; when you force your musical technicality it sounds insincere. And the listener can sense it and detect it immediately. (This is similar to when you do excessive “padding” in a Ph.D. thesis with extraneous matter!) Ms. Syama Sundari's Telugu compilation has helped me a lot.
In the second stanza, there is a reference to the milky ocean where Lord Vishnu reclines on the Adi-Sesha and lost in the meditation of yoga maya (యోగ నిద్ర). It (the phrase కలశ) reminds me a scene from a movie on Sri Adi Sankara (by G. V. Iyer). There Sankara-acharya controlled the flood waters of Narmada river by gently putting back the spilled river into his water-pot (కమండలువు). Here in this song Tyagaraja reminds Lord Rama His earlier feat(s) of supporting Mandara mountain during the churning of milky ocean. Not only that for the innocent gopis, He later lifted the Govardhana hill to protect the cows, cowherds, and gopis from the flurry of hails and rainstorms - hurled by Indra. For a Lord who effortlessly carries all the fourteen worlds in His tummy, is it difficult to carry or protect one individual? (Thus wails and complains helplessly Sri Tyagayya. We, mired in similar desperate situations, concur with the composer. We too feel the heart wrenching pain inwardly. What can we say? That is the power of great art, it can cross vast boundaries of time, space, and people. Copyright 2019 by the author)
No comments:
Post a Comment