Paranthaka - II

The story so far...

Arjun sat, sulking and staring out of the window, in the rear seat as his dad weaved his way through the evening traffic and his mom muttered all the prayers she knew. He had made what would register a faint, feeble attempt on the 'arguing with parents' scale, trying to convince them that there was nothing wrong with him and this visit to Srinivas -of whom he had vague recollections of being weirder than what was the average weirdness on his dad's side of the family- was unnecessary. But he knew he was waging a losing battle, especially when his father's temper had registered a couple of revolutions on the 'time to stop arguing with parents' scale.
So there he was, unwillingly on his way to have his mind analysed, even as the day's events loomed large in it. He had more or less convinced his rational self that unbelievable as it seemed, there was something strange about this Karikala character. A phone call to Karthik, followed by ineffective threats of violence, further followed by extremely effective offer of bribes, had gotten a 'i-swear-on-everything' confirmation that he had nothing to do with any prank. Not knowing what to believe, he prepared himself to meet Srinivas.

"So Arjun, what are your hobbies?"

"He reads voraciously. Watches every movie that releases...."

"Lalita aunty, please let him answer. Better still, uncle why don't the two of you wait outside and let me have a private talk with Arjun."

"Okay, now that your parents aren't around, I think we can have a open discussion. So was that your girlfriend in your room in the afternoon?" Srinivas asked with a foolish grin and an even more foolish wink.

"What are you talking about?"

"Arjun. You can trust me. I can understand the things you do at your age...."

"Oh. Please. You won't understand."

"Okay let that be. So what book are you reading?"

"Paranthaka. Its a....."

"Oh! Lovely book. One of Kalki's best works. Ah! The beauty of fiction based on reality. You don't know what is real and what isn't."

"Have you read it?"

"I have read all his books. I am a big fan."

So, there in an instant, for the most unexpected of reasons, all of Arjun's apprehensions about his weird cousin melted away and a trust was born, a trust that made him open out and narrate the incidents of the day. Almost immediately, Srinivas transformed into a nervously excited man.

"Fantastic. This is absolutely fantastic. You don't worry Arjun. I will talk to your parents. I will make them understand."

"You don't think I have lost it? Do you think this Karikala is real?"

"Most definitely. He is as real as real can be. You just wait outside a while and let me talk to your parents."

"I am afraid I have some bad news for you. I have reason to suspect that Arjun has MIMPD. It is a rare condition that has been the focus of my research for the past few years. He looks like a classic case."

"MIMPD?"

"Yes. MIMPD. Media Induced Multiple Personality Disorder. Over the past few years, our literature and movies have been obsessed with the theme of multiple personality disorders. These works have projected MPD in such a way that young impressionable minds have found it to be some sort of a cool thing, so much so that it has the potential to manifest in them. In Arjun's case, he is so involved in the historical novel he is reading, that he has begun to assume an alter-ego as one of the characters in it. Worrying as this may be, it is not all grim. I have been working on treatments for this disorder for a long time. We should get started as soon as possible. But it is important that Arjun does not know of this right now. I don't want to trigger off some extreme behaviour. He has sort of developed a trust in me and that is a good sign. Just act as if there is nothing wrong with him and prepare to get him admitted here in a couple of days."


Arjun welcomed the silence on the way home, although it seemed strange to him that even his mother didn't say a word. An event less dinner followed, and he lay on his bed continuing to contemplate the surreal 'Karikala' episode when sounds of a rather animated discussion drew him to his parent's room.

"I don't like the idea of Srinivas using him as a guinea pig for his experimental treatment."

"Don't be stupid, Lalita! Srinivas is a clever fellow. He knows what he is talking about. Its not easy to get a second opinion for ailments of the mind. Things are so damn subjective. What is abnormal for one might seem normal for another"

"MIMPD! Sounds like something a mad scientist in the movies comes up with. How come we haven't even heard about such a condition?"

"I don't even know how to answer that. Have you heard of every physical and mental ailment discovered? You just have to learn to trust. If Srinivas says he needs treatment, he needs treatment. You think I am not worried?"

Not wanting to hear anything more, Arjun crept back to his room. He was filled with a rage at the gall of that cheap, conniving Srinivas and he kicked himself for falling for his act and trusting him so easily. Even that rage was fleeting as he realized he was enmeshed in a situation with no escape, unless of course he could convince his dad, or convince his mom to convince his dad, that nothing was wrong with him. However, the fact was that the events of the day had left him in a situation where he himself needed some convincing that everything was all right. There seemed no way out but to become a lab rat. No way out, unless......

After vacillating a while between sleeplessness due to mental turmoil and sleep due to mental fatigue, Arjun submitted to the overwhelming force of the latter and dozed off. He awoke in the morning, startled to see his mother by his bedside, staring at him as if he was a new born. She stroked his head and handed him his book.

"Now you can finish it."

He held back a slew of thoughts just before they could come out as words and merely hugged her tight and said "Thanks Mom!", adding a "..for everything." under his breath.

That night, the full moon was fuller than it usually was, which even when interpreted as a hyperbole is too exaggerated even to be imagined.

"Are you ready, my general. My dear Paranthaka, if I may call you that?"

"I don't know. I don't know how to ride a horse,how to wield a weapon, how to defend,to attack, to hurt, to kill. I don't know any form of warfare, how to lead, to command. I don't know anything at all. What if I fail you?"

"It shall all come to you."

"How?"

"You will see. My faith in your destiny is greater than my faith in you."

Arjun, who shall henceforth be known as Paranthaka, neared his steed. He gathered the reins, and after a hesitant instant, effortlessly mounted it as if he had done it all his life. As he rode confused yet confident into the night, into the unknown,into an uncertain future, uncertain if it could even be called the future, his thoughts went back to the unfinished book that had started this all, lying unopened by his bedside. He remembered his mother's words as she handed it back to him, and he experienced a reassuring moment of clarity when he realised their true significance. He would finish it.

THE END

Paranthaka - I

Arjun sat up straight and buried his face with feverish excitement into the old pages of the book in his hand. The historical novel he was reading had reached its climax. “The battle scene was set, a small Chozha army struggling valiantly to fight off the mighty Hoysalas, trying hard to delay the end of their glorious dynasty. The inexperienced yet determined prince Karikala , guided by the ablest of generals, Paranthaka led the army with great courage. As the two of them were embroiled in warding off swarms of enemy swordsman, a Hoysala bowsman prepared to take aim. The prince was in his sight but Paranthaka was constantly in the way. And then arrived the moment he was waiting for, when Paranthaka lunged forward and out of his line of fire. He pulled back the bowstring in a flash and let the arrow fly. Now, it was not without reason, Paranthaka was the respected warrior he was. His speed, skill and reflexes were quite unmatched and it was his quick anticipation that saved Karikala…..”

“Arjun! Arjun! Are you done with clearing the mess that you call a room? It has been more than an hour since I told you to do that”

Even before Arjun could slam the book shut, his mother entered the room. He tried greeting her with his practiced “no-reply-give-nothing-away" expression of bewilderment and confusion, hoping this would just elicit a second round of room cleaning instructions, sprinkled with a few choice adjectives highlighting his ineptitude, his imperviousness to insults, his despicable laziness and finally the trump card- a threat of bringing the matter to the notice of higher authorities, namely his father followed by a brief description of its disastrous consequences. But he was not to be so easily let off that day. The hawk-eyed observation skills of Mrs. Lalita Shankar were at their best as she noticed the book in Arjun’s hands. Displaying the agility of a hawk (to be confused with the afore-mentioned bird), she swooped on it and snatched it out, as he stood reactionless.

“So this is what you have been doing for the past hour. Now that it is no longer there to distract you, I am sure you can finish your cleaning chore for the day.”

Realizing that silence was no longer an intelligent choice, Arjun screamed “But Mom! Please! I am almost done. I will finish the book in ten minutes and start cleaning the moment I do that. Please don’t take it away”

Mrs. Lalita pondered a while, wondering whether to give in to Arjun with the kindheartedness of a bovine nurturing its calf, or to stand her ground with the ruthlessness of a tigress teaching its cub to hunt. However, being overdosed with animal metaphors, she simply decided to stay faithful to the rules and norms of the pantheon of unreasonable illogical mothers, and deny that ten minute grace period to Arjun with a firm

“No way. If you want this back, you are going to have to earn it. Finish cleaning and come and take it”.

And, she left the room slamming the door shut with a flourish of accomplishment and a smirk of smug satisfaction. Arjun hesitated, thought about using the beg-plead-please-please technique, but the fact that his mother was in her special zone of inexplicable irrationality, made him realize the futility of any attempt to get back his book. So he grit his teeth, clenched his knuckles, took a deep breath, clutched his hair, and desperately tried to drive away the incessant questions that echoed about in his head “What happens to Paranthaka? What happens to Karikala? ”

“Paranthaka is dead. Three cowardly arrows did it. He is dead.”

If this had been a Hitchcock movie, this is when you would have heard the eerie piano chords, followed by a deafening silence and a close up of the startled open-mouthed protagonist. If one were to display a better choice of words and put it more eloquently, this would be the Jajaaaaaaang moment. But this is reality and conforming to it, Arjun took his own sweet time to let the words spoken sink in and as soon as it had, with an unsure smile said

“Karthik? Is that you? Don’t you dare ruin this ending for me! I am warning you! Wait a minute. How did you even know what I was thinking? Was I thinking out aloud again?”

"Karthik? Karthik? Cut the crap man! Come out from wherever you are. Oh! There you are! Bloody idiot!”

Emerging from behind the window curtains, a well built figure stepped out into Arjun’s room.

“Whoa! Who the hell are you? How did you get here? And why are you dressed like that?”

“I am Karikala Chola, blessed son of the great Uttama Chozha, heir prince by birth and humble servant by choice to the glorious Chozha empire.”

After being subject to a veritable barrage of adjectives, Arjun struggled to recall whatever little he remembered of his high school grammar to separate out the subjects, objects, verbs and adverbs and try and make sense of that complex sentence. Once he did that, owing to the fact that he had been the target of one practical joke too many, and the originator of twice as many, he asked the man in front of him,

“Who set this up? Karthik. Must be that dumbass trying to get back for that embarrassing valentine’s day prank call. But I must admit, he has gone through great pains and thought out of his little pea brain to come up with this. Quite impressive. So, are you like a theatre actor or something?”

“Are we not all actors in some way. He pulls the strings and we dance to His whims. Anyway, I do not have much time. Please listen carefully to what I have to say. The wise Rudracharya speaks about the many worlds that exist at the same time, blissfully unaware of each other. I am from one such world and I have come here solely with the purpose of seeking you out. As I told you before, Paranthaka is dead. But all is not lost as our enemies have suffered far greater damages than we have. If we can hold them off for a couple of more days, the armies of two of our vassal kingdoms will join us and then this battle will be ours to win. Rudracharya says it is destined that we need the services of a general to achieve what is written for us and that general is you. Will you fight for me and my people?”

Arjun put on his most serious expression, which was usually reserved for really grave occasions like when his favorite team lost the game, or even worse when Karthik bought his favorite flavour of ice cream, when it was the last one left at the corner shop.

“So are you saying I am the chosen one? The one who can prevent the end of the Chozha empire? Are you really saying that?”

“Yes. Those are the words of Rudracharya.”

“Okay then. Who am I to question destiny especially when it hands me such a great honour? I should grab it with both hands. Go dear king. Go and spread the word that you have found your general, that too an exalted one, one who does not fall for stupid fairy tale fantasy pranks, that he outgrew when he was just ten. Go tell Karthik, that I wish him better luck next time. Hah!”

Karikala broke into a relieved smile. “I do not understand all of what you say. But I understand enough to know that the great Chozha army has found itself a new general. Be prepared to leave tomorrow, when the moon is full. That is the only time our steeds can get us to where we need to go. If we do not leave tomorrow, we cannot leave until the next full moon, and then it would be too late." Speaking thus, he jumped out of the window and was off before Arjun could say anything in response.

It took a good ten seconds for Arjun's emotional state to transition from the euphoria of having the sharpness to spot a prank and skillfully escape being the victim of it, to the realm of doubt and suspicion. The fact that he heard something sounding uncannily like the hooves of a horse hitting asphalt, the moment "Karikala" left compounded things and put him into a state of supreme confusion. A theatre actor, he could believe but a horse, a whole live horse was too much of a stretch for a prank, a prank from someone with Karthik's scheming abilities. Before he could try to comprehend the events that had passed, Mrs. Lalita Shankar rushed into the room with the eagerness of a shark that had smelt blood(simultaneously changing her behaviour pattern to enable the use of aquatic animal metaphors,helping break the monotony of the terrestrial ones)

"Arjun! Who were you talking to? And why haven't you started cleaning yet?"

"Er...Karikala...Horse...Karthik....Er...I was just getting started. I wasn't talking with anybody. No one is here. I wouldn't be talking to myself. Would I?", said Arjun, prudently deciding to conceal the truth till it was clearer to him.

"Karikala? Horse? What is wrong with you? I could swear I heard voices in here."

"Oh Mom! I was still thinking about the novel when you came in. You are imagining things. Just relax and let me do my chore. I need that book back."

Though Mrs. Lalita left the room, she remained unconvinced, and being blessed with the tendency to worry unceasingly about every trivial issue in life, and a knack of making a Mount Everest out of minuscule molehills, she picked up the phone and called Mr.Shankar at his chartered accountancy firm.

"Hello. I am.."

"Yes. Yes. I remember. I will get the brinjals on the way back from work"

"I din't call about that. I called.."

"Hold on a sec. Swaminathan, Get me the files of AGS & Company at once. Yes. What did the idiot do now."

"Don't say that about the poor thing now. I thing something is wrong with him."

"That's what I have been telling you since he was born."

"Please be a little serious. I was a little harsh with him today about cleaning up his room. I walked past his room a little while later and heard voices in his room, two different ones. I walked in and asked him about it and he said it was nothing. He looked really confused as if he had just snapped out of a trance or something. This is exactly like how it was with my grandfather in the village. He started talking to himself and then went completely crazy. Must be hereditary or something."

"Lalita! Stop overreacting as usual. Your grandfather went senile. The rascal is not old enough for that."

"You always disregard my intuitions. Remember the time I thought he had typhoid and you..."

"Okay. Okay. I don't have time for this now. I will take him to my nephew Srinivas for a quick check up in the evening. He seems to be doing well in that little psychiatry set up of his."

"I am coming along too. I am going to the temple now to do a Puja for him"

"I will be home by 6 to pick you up. Don't let him out of the house till then."

I N T E R M I S S I O N

Five things I loved about Dor

It has been seven months since my last post. It has been an even longer time since I saw and fell in love with Nagesh Kukunoor's Dor. I thought about writing a post on it as soon as I saw it twice in two days, but for no reason, never did. Anyway being the procrastinator I am, it is never too late for anything in my life. So here are five things about Dor that made it my movie of 2006 and also one of my all time favourites.

Death and mourning:
When you lose a loved one, when does your life return to normalcy or more specifically, when is it ok for you to smile, laugh, be happy, have fun? What difference does it make if you mourn for a day or a week or a month or maybe even a year. Is the time really any reflection of your love for the dead? If you take lesser time to recover from your loss, does it mean you love the person any less? It was heartening to see Ayesha Takia's Mira ask the same questions of herself in Dor. It was even more heartening to see her break into that Kajra Re jig in the middle of the desert, forgetting the facade of widowhood for an instant, living her life as she wanted to. That probably answers it all- its never about the time you abstain from happiness, rather its the recurring memories, the melancholy emptiness, the unappeasable yearning you feel all through the rest of your life without the dead that really matters.

Unrequited love:
Everyone raved about Shreyas Talpade's wonderful cameo as the comical Behroopiya. But the most beautiful moment of the movie also belonged to him, when, in a state of inebriation, induced to bolster himself, he reveals how he has fallen in love with Gul Panag's Zeenat. There is realism in the way he expresses himself, fully knowing the futility of it all, there is a rare dignity in Zeenat's response, and there is great mirth when this heavy moment is swiftly brushed aside by him beginning to repeat himself.

The clichés and the not so clichés:
There are many things in Dor that suffer from the predictability that afflicts Indian cinema. By the way, that is more of an observation and less of a complaint. You know that Nagesh's character is going to take that ugly negative turn, and you sort of expect Girish Karnad's mother to do the volte-face she does. But you definitely are not prepared for the way Zeenat argues her husband's case. Never once does she claim he is innocent, nor offer any form of justification. She is singlemindedly selfish in the fact that all she wants is her husband,her life back, making for a rare characterisation. A lot of dialogues stand out, none more than when the grandmother tells Mira "Jo kuch bhi tu karne jaa rahi hain, woh ek insaan hi kar saktha hai. Farishton ke naseeb main ye sab kahaan?".

The places, the people:
I don't know if Nagesh Kukunoor tried to establish a visual metaphor by shifting from the plush, green locales of Himachal to the arid, barren deserts of Rajasthan to establish the disruption of Zeenat's life as she knew it. But, the role that these places play is as essential as the characters themselves. The silky sands of the desert, and the way they are exquisitely shot make up for a rewarding visual experience. Adding to this are the two stunning leading ladies- Gul Panag with her dimples, and kajal lined eyes, and Ayesha Takia with her innocent, almost cherubic beauty. And all that the development of their characters does is, make you like them even more.

The music:
I have heard very little of Salim-Suleman before this movie and their work lends a well-rounded completeness to Dor. The palpably sad Yeh honsla, the re-working of the folksy Kesariya Balam and the brilliantly used bass flute refrains complement every frame of the movie almost to perfection.

To sum it all up, Dor is a sterling example of what a correctly proportioned mix of the defining elements of Indian cinema can produce. As it plays out firmly grounded in reality, with a dose of melodrama that is moving and measured at the same time, with characters that could be you or me, with picture perfect visuals and a stirring background score, you can't help but succumb to the magic that is cinema.

Guru- the movie

The moment I walked out of the theatre, I knew immediately that Guru would fall more readily in the league of the not so successful Iruvar, Kannathil Muthamittal, Dil Se than that of the highly successful Roja and Bombay. All these films have a common thread of being based on real issues of social and political relevance. The key differentiating factor is that Roja and Bombay are essentially people movies, where the issue of Kashmir or Communalism merely forms the backdrop to what is simply a story of ordinary people caught in extraordinary circumstances. They do not demand a basic understanding of the context in which the story is set, whereas it helps to have at least a faint idea of the Dravidian movement, the ethnic conflict in Sri Lanka and the turmoil in the North East to truly appreciate Iruvar, KM and Dil Se. Here the issues are given as much importance, if not more, as the people embroiled in them. I have always been against prerequisites and supplements to help appreciate art, so much so that I question a friend’s love for Mulholland Drive, a film which you need external help to comprehend fully. But movies like Iruvar and Guru force me to re-evaluate my stance. When you watch Guru purely as the rags to riches rise of an ambition blinded man, it is not going to be as impactful as seeing it with an awareness of the License Raj, the stumbling blocks to entrepreneurship and the bureaucratic bullshit small time businessmen have to put up with in India. For a simple fact, even today, you need 9 licenses to start a simple cafe(Source: India Uncut). By itself, Guru is an engaging, charming story of the underdog making it big. But when seen with an understanding of the odds stacked against Gurukant Desai, when you realise the magnitude of his achievement, when it dawns that for every Gurukant Desai who succeeds, there are hundreds, maybe thousands more bogged down by licenses, laws, and levies, Guru can be so much more.

The weakest part of Guru is obviously its climax, where after having the potential to build up to a powerhouse, Maniratnam, uncharacteristically builds it on a shaky house of cards and then disappointingly flicks it away. The only explicitly stated obstacle in Abhishek’s entrepreneurial journey is his inability to obtain a license to trade. After surmounting that, he is shown to have a pretty much smooth sailing. Justifying all his actions in the speech at the end, doesn’t stir you as much as it would have if more of his struggles with red tapism, obsolete constricting laws and taxes had been dwelled upon suitably. Also there is this ridiculous scene where a man who got his daughters married with share earnings from Abhishek’s company offers him his support. To try and lend an altruistic colour to an obviously selfish man is pretty lame. Given the pre-release hype about the shades of grey in Abhishek’s character, it appears as though Mani never really wanted to show any black after all.

Having started on such a negative note, let me allow my Maniratnam bias to take over from here. I don’t think any other director has this man’s ability to develop relationships as realistically and to portray sexual chemistry and intimacy so brilliantly. The slapping sequence between Abhishek and Aishwarya, the exquisitely used Tere Bina and the way it culminates, his penchant for stressing the physical aspects of love- after an unsuccessful emotional proposal, Madhavan elicits a yes with a deliciously shot lip lock- all the stuff of legends. The rich production values, the meticulous attention to detail, the painstakingly crafted sets, Rajiv Menon’s camera work all make up for an awesome visual treat. It hurts though that all the other songs, barring maybe Ek Lo, Jaage Hain and the amazing refrain that accompanies most of Vidya Balan’s screentime, have been mercilessly relegated to the background and hence thoroughly devalued.

Moving on to Vidya Balan and the necessity of her role, for me this is one of Mani’s most multi-layered, open-to-many-interpretations characters ever. First and foremost, Vidya is the film’s only truly neutral observer, the only one who doesn’t take sides, the only one who is able to love both Abhishek and Madhavan, indifferent to what they do with their lives. She is a reminder to the viewer to hold on and reserve their judgements, and not classify Abhishek and Madhavan in the stereotypical wrong and right moulds. Vidya also represents the common man, someone who is in reality so far removed from, and hence unaffected equally by the illegalities of Abhishek’s business and its exposure by Madhavan. Vidya’s handicap is a metaphor for the obstacles to Abhishek’s ambition . She probably looks up to him because he is in some way able to work around those obstacles, something she cannot even hope to do. Finally, Vidya is the restraining factor holding Abhishek from doing anything adverse to Madhavan, helping him stay in the “justifiable” grey as opposed to the “unjustifiable” grey.

Guru does not merely chronicle the life of one man, it makes us think of the many more equally enterprising men, who never make it big because they stay within the confines of the law. Ironically, the law that is written to benefit the people can benefit so many more if rewritten to benefit these men- For instance, Abhishek’s tax evasion helps more people as shareholders, than the taxes themselves would have, considering the layers of corruption they would have trickled through.

Returning to the league in which Guru falls, is it Maniratnam’s failing as a director that the movies where he has focused on people have been more powerful than the ones where he has focused on issues? Should he stick to the genre of Roja, Bombay, pandering to the public, digging deep into their emotions and merely tickling their intellect or should he make movies like Guru, feeding both emotions and intellect equally? Give us more of the former, Mani. Give us more of the latter too.Aw..what the hell, just give us more, Mani!

Guru

Forgive me my readers, for it is that time again- the time when you groan and go “Oh no! Not again! Not yet another superlative, adjective filled, Rahman worshipping review”. Try as I might to be objective, and brave the onslaught of the waves, it is all in vain as I break down and give in to this man and fall to my knees and bow to him. Now that I am done with the theatrics, let me dispense with the unpleasant first.

There is something comforting about familiarity, which is why we tend to associate anything new with something we know well. Right from telling someone you meet that they remind you of someone else, to trying hard to find out which old song a new one resembles, we try to mentally map the unfamiliar with the accustomed. Rahman gives you a million opportunities to do this, for he extensively reuses bits and pieces of his old compositions to give you something pseudo-new, yet mind blowing. Moreover, he uses a lot of commercially available loops which explains why some of his beats sound “lifted” from somewhere. To me, this is not a sign of creative saturation, but rather it showcases his ability to reuse the familiar and conjure up something phenomenal. To give you an analogy, there is this scene in The Mask, when Jim Carrey pulls out balloons and twists them into all kinds of shapes. When you see the final shapes that evolve, you don’t sit and complain that it’s the same damn balloon that made all of them. Actually, the analogy sucked, but I hope you see the connection anyway.

So coming back to the music of Guru- Yes I agree. Dum Dhara does sound like the Gayatri Mantra for it is inherently hymn like in intonation; A fifteen second flute bit in Mayya Mayya is probably from some Buddha Bar album and Satrangi Re makes a presence too; Ay Hairathe starts off like Poo Kodiyin(Iruvar) and uses a bit from Ye Rishta(Meenaxi); Ek Lo Ek Muft has a beat uncannily similar to Ayyo Pathikichu(Rhythm); There is a hint of the Bombay theme in Jaage Hain. If the songs didn’t impress you because of a few reused bits, then you are just nitpicking. If the songs impressed you and the reused bits still bother you, didn’t you hear perfection is overrated?

Guru had kept me edgy and nervous all this week. I have lost count of the number of websites I have scrounged for updates, and the number of times I have refreshed the browser. And when the samples came out, I was floored by Tere Bina, welcomed back with a pleased familiarity- Hariharan in Ay Hairathe, piqued by the exotic Maryem Toller in Mayya Mayya, and hastily dismissed off Barso Re. But these were mere mortals, and when I saw the credits for Jaage Hain, that had Chitra, Rahman and the Madras Choral Group, I smacked my lips for I knew that would be what I really wanted. And when I heard Rahman’s off-key whisper, to the accompaniment of those soulful strings, I knew he was teasing me as if to say “You have waited so long, wait a little more”. And then the eruption of the high pitched vocals, followed up by that spell binding chorus- ecstasy! What a moving, emotionally sapping composition. There are two kinds of anticipation, one when you don’t know what you are getting; the other when you know exactly what you are getting. Usually, there is no fun in the latter, but the thing about Jaage Hain is that it makes even that so much fun. You know Rahman is going to break out in that now-familiar vocals, and you know the choir is going to repeat after him, and yet you eagerly wait, as though standing in a beach waiting for the waves to come and soak you.

And the lyrics though sparse are so evocative- Gulzar’s sequel to Robert Frost’s “Miles to go before I sleep” is “Miles have gone by. Let me sleep”. Rahman mentioned in an interview that the music starts off with a Turkish feel, moves on to become “north Indian friendly” and then operatic. So this is likely to be the climax song a la Malarodu from Bombay. By the way did you notice the classy touch -the faint bagpipes when Rahman whispers?

Tere Bina, Rahman’s ode to Nusrat and what an ode at that. Widening his singing repertoire, he attempts a romantic duet, probably for the first time and pulls it off with such finesse. You can almost feel the childish excitement when Rahman starts an ambitious Ga Ga Ri Sa like Nusrat's flurry of notes in Afreen Afreen, and then checks himself and falls back to a simple Luka Chuppi like style. But the highlight of the song for me is Chinmayee. It is one thing to be talented, it is an entirely different thing to constantly challenge yourself and push the envelope. Singing with tremendous versatility, she steals the thunder from Rahman especially when she alternates between low and high pitches in the end.

Ay Hairathe, the return of the prodigal son. Hariharan makes a comeback to his comfort zone in this melodious Ghazalish duet. Hey wait, there is fodder for all you Rahman nay sayers. The Dum Dhara chorus is lifted from somewhere. Oh right, its from Tere Bina. Tch Tch, recycling tunes in the same movie. That’s a first even by Rahman standards. Anyway, I am assuming the two songs are linked in some way in the movie.

To many people living in North India, anyone from the south is a Madrasi. I would have made a similarly misinformed generalization and branded Mayya Mayya as Arabian sounding, had I not read that it in fact has Turkish influences. With an infectious rhythm, Maryem Toller’s sultry voice, and the Holida interlude by Keerthi to die for, this is the pick of the peppy numbers. Rahman experiments big time with Baazi Laga which is the “north Indian friendly” number. Keeping in mind that Guru is a period film, this is the only song from a different time in the album. Rahman has always been among the few music directors to give the backing vocalists their due and recognition. I loved the way he uses Swetha and Bhargavi in that catchy chorus.

Barso Re, for me has a disappointing start but redeems itself very nicely in the next two stanzas. Ek Lo Ek Muft has the funny Joiyyun Joiyyun chorus which is actually nice to hear. But for once I am not impressed with Rahman’s pick of vocals. Bappida though doing exactly what is expected of him does not lend anything special to the song. When Rahman usually does the music equivalent of a casting coup, he has always produced songs to remember-MSV in Aalalakanda(Sangamam) and Vidai Kodu(Kannathil Muthamittal) and why even, Silambarasan in Bailamore(Kaadhal Virus). In all likelihood, Barso Re and Ek Lo are likely to make a better impact on screen, which is a given considering that the former boasts of Ash in Adirampally;)

So let me try ending this a little different. If I had to survive a week on a deserted island, I would consider an iPod loaded with the songs of Guru, and back up batteries essential to my survival. Of course, I would need food and water, but we were talking about essentials…Right?