Two more ragas and the rains

It is monsoon time. A time of incessant rains, of cooler temperatures and of cloudy skies. It is also the time when the semi-arid northern gangetic plains start looking more like a tropical rainforest. Fascination with monsoons and the month of "saawan" has always been part of North Indian cultural context. It can be found in the miniature paintings that have survived, and folk songs are filled with innumerable references to clouds and rains. From Kalidasa's meghdoot to the latest Hindi film songs, this fascination has stayed unchanged over many millennia. Of course most visitors have usually found this Indian fascination with monsoons and rains somewhat inexplicable. And so did I initially. But having lived in the heat and dust of Delhi for so long, I think I no longer find it difficult to fathom the source of this poetic fixation with clouds. :-).

So let me devote this post to some rainy season ragas. Usually each raga has a time for playing e.g. evening, early morning, night etc. But the so-called seasonal ragas don't have a time of playing. Instead they have an appropriate season for playing, perhaps because the particular season was the inspiration for their composition. The main rainy season ragas I have come across are Megh, Megh Malhar and Miyan Ki Malhar. Most compositions in these ragas are full of feeling exuberence and activity, that I have come to associate with them. However there are many derivatives of these ragas, and here is one sung by the great Bhimsen Joshi himself. I don't need to say much about Bhimsen Joshi. He is probably the most popular and well know classical vocalist in India. He belongs to Kirana Gharana and Sawai Ghandarwa was his guru, though he is thought to have drawn inspiration from many other schools of music as well. This raga is called Chaya Malhar and this record has only the "drut" (fast tempo) Khayal part of the rendition.


Raga Chhaya Malhar by Bhimsen Joshi

Here is a Megh Malhar based song from Film Mother India

-->Dukh Bare din beete re bhaiya<-- a="">


The second raga that I list is not really a rainy season raga. So I am kind of cheating :-). The raga is called Brindavani Sarang. The Sarang family of ragas has a folksy lilt to it, and according to many it has been derived from Indian folk music tradition. This raga family is one of my favorite. And there are many compositions with the context of rains which are based on this raga, so my cheating can hopefully be overlooked. Here is a rendition of Brindavani Sarang from the Bismillah Khan. Bismillah Khan belonged to a long lineage of classical musicians. He is credited for bringing shehnai into the mainstream of classical music. Shehnai is an ancient instrument and its sound is considered auspicious. And that is probably the reason why it is also played in temples and during marriages throughout india. For some unfathomable reason, I tend to like shehnai much more than the other favorite Indian wind instrument, the bamboo flute. And Bismillah Khan is of course the god of shehnai. Listen to this and you will agree :-).


Raga Brindabani Sarang by Bismillah Khan

Here is a Raga Brindabani Sarang based song from Film Rani Roopmati

-->Aa Laut ke aaja mere meet<-- a="">



That completes my unsaid promise. As for the dedication. Let it be the rare visitor to this blog i.e. YOU. :-).

Two music legends and two ragas

This post is a dedication to two legends of Hindustani classical music that passed away recently.

Ali Akbar Khan was the son of Allaudin Khan of Maihar Gharana. Allaudin Khan can be considered one of pioneers for rejuvenating hindustani classical music in modern India. Besides Ali Akbar Khan, he was also the Guru of legends like Ravi Shankar and Nikhil Banerjee. In my opinion Ali Akbar Khan was probably the greatest of Sarod players of post-independence India and his jugalbandis with Ravi Shankar are some of the best music ever produced (in all forms!!). He spent his last days running a music school in California, United States. Here is a Raga Bhairavi rendition from Ali Akbar Khan. Bhairavi (another name for the consort of Lord Shiva) is one of the most popular ragas in Hindustani music. To me it represents joy and celebration of life. It is usual for masters to end a night long recital by playing Raga Bhairavi.

Raga Bhairavi on Sarod by Ali Akbar Khan


Here is an Bharavi based song from film Gaman. Bhairavi adds a richness and colour to this beautiful song of remembrance.

-->Bhairavi Song in Film Gaman<-- a="">
Gangubhai Hangal was the one of the foremost disciple of Sawai Gandharwa (Rambhau Kundgolkar) of Kirana Gharana. Her co-students included such famous names as Bhimsen Joshi and Feroze Dastur. Her voice is unique and powerful with a very low pitch. Her rendition of Khayal in serious ragas is one of the most beautiful experiences in listening to Hindustani music. Here is one of the best vocal renditions of Raga Bhairav I have come across. In this recording her daughter, Krishna Hangal, accompanies her with her slightly higher pitched voice. Raga Bhairav (Literally Lord Shiva), is a deeply meditative raga. To me it always gives a feeling of space and other-worldliness.
-->Raga Bhairav by Gangubai Hangal<-- a="">
Here is a Raga Bhairav based song from film Jagte Raho. This raga of silence, as I like calling it, puts in a sense of austerity and grace in this song.
-->Bhairav Song in Film Jaagte Raho<-- a="">

Three Games of Chess.

Time again to get back to old pass times. Poring over chess books and long forgotten games. Pondering over the ifs and buts of each move and variation. Any writing some html once again :-).
I am posting the games won by Anand in last world championship between Anand and Kramnik (jokingly called drawnik). Spend long hours in the night trying to analyze live Internet feed and commentaries from grandmasters at that time. There were a few hitches, especially due to the artificial delay of half an hour enforced by the organizers. But I feel that following live chess (much like other sports) should be feasible if we have the required technology and enough commercial interest.
Why choose only the games won by Anand. I know it is probably a little unfair but I didn't like the idea of putting all 11 games in the blog post. So had to choose some arbitrary shortlist. Anand's brand of tactical attacking chess is something I admire (and understand more) than the slow positional maneuvers of the school of Russian masters to which Kramnik belongs (in the footsteps of Petrosian, Karpov). Anyway, enough chatter. Time for silence and analysis....


Game No 3:
17-Oct-08 : Kramnik(W) vs Anand (B)
Semi-Slav Defense: Meran Variation

Game No 5
20-Oct-2008 : Kramnik(W) vs Anand (B)
Semi-Slav Defense: Meran Variation

Game No 6
21-Oct-2008 : Anand (W) vs Kramnik (B)
Nimzo-Indian Defense: Classical Variation

Two more poems

Here are two poems from two great poets. First one is from Bulleh Shah. Bulleh shah (along with Sheikh Farid) is one of my favourites sufi poets from punjab. I may have grown up among mostly punjabi speaking people, but I still don't know much punjabi. But like most north indians, I could still pick up the meaning reasonably well. Anyway, here is an English translation done in a hurry....

Story of Dust

1>

maa\tee kudam karendi yaar
waah waah maa\tee dee gulzaar
माटी कुदम करेनदि यार वाह वाह
माटी दी गुलज़ार
See the dust jumping playfully,
It is a joyous time for the dust.
2>
maa\tee gho\rha maa\tee jo\rha
maa\tee daa aswaar maa\tee
maa\tee noon do\rhave
maa\tee daa kha\rhkaar
माटी घोड़ा माटी जोड़ा
माटी दा असवार
माटी माटी नून दोड़वे
माटी दा खड़कार
The horse is dust, the clothes are dust
And the rider of dust will be
One dust rides the other dust
Even the whiplash is dust, you see

3>
maa\tee maa\tee noon ma aran laagi
maa\tee dey hathiyaar jis
maa\tee par bahutee maa\tee
soh maa\tee hankaar
माटी माटी नून मारन लागि
माटी देय हथियार जिस
माटी पर बहुती माटी
सोह माटी हनकार
One dust whips the other dust
The whip of dust is made
That dust which has a lot of dust
Is dust of arrogance and hauteur
4>
maa\tee bhag bhageechey maa\tee
maa\tee di gulzaar
maa\tee maa\tee noon vekhan aayi
maa\tee di e bahaar
माटी भग भगीचेय माटी
माटी दि गुलज़ार
माटी माटी नून वेखन आयि
माटी दि ए बहार
Dust makes the orchards, the gardens
Dust makes the flowers bloom
When one dust comes to meet the other dust
The spring of both dust will coming soon
5>
has khed phiri maati hovai
sondhi paanv pasaar
bullah eh bujaarat buujeh
tah\m lah seroh bhui\m maar
हस खेद फिरि माति होवै
सोनधि पानव पसार
बुल्लह एह बुजारत बूजेह
तहँ लह सेरोह भुइँ मार
After laughing and playing around
Dust goes for a carefree sleep at the end
Bullah says if you want to solve the puzzle
Remove the load of confusion from your head

Here is the second one from Mirza Galib. Also translated in quick time. Ghalib always amazes me with his mix of pathos and humour. A philospher poet.....

Clueless heart
1>
Dil e naadaan tujhe hua kya hai
aakhir is dard ki dawa kya hai
ham hai\n mushtaq aur wo bezaar
ya ilahi yeh maajra kya hai
दिल ए नादान तुझे हुअ कया है
आखिर इस दरद कि दवा कया है
हम हैं मुशतक और वो बेज़ार
या इलहि येह माजरा कया है
Clueless heart, tell me, what is your plight
O painful longing, what balm will set you right.
I am so intent, so why is she always worried been,
O my lord, what does all this confusion mean
2>
mai bhi muh\n mei\n rakhta hoon
kaash poocho ki muddva kya hain
jabhi tum bin nahi koi maujood
phir yeh hangama e khuda kya hai
मैं भि मुहं में रखता हून
काश पूचो कि मुद्दवा कया हैना
जभी तुम बिन नहि कोइ मौजूद
फिर येह हनगमा ए खुदा कया है
I am no mute, and surely would have replied too
If you had only asked, dear, "what is the matter with you"
Nothing exists in this world, besides you, I am convinced
What empty clamour of God's existence, is by people is evinced
3>
jaan tum par nisar karta hoona
mei\n nahi jaanta duaa kya hai
mei\n ne mana ke kuchh nahi ghaalib
muft haat aaye to bura kya hai
जान तुम पर निसर करता हूना
में नहि जानता दुआ कया है
में ने मना के कुछ नहि घालिब
मुफ़त हात आये तो बुरा कया है
Have given over to you this life of mine, this existence
I have nothing to more to ask the gods, nothing to fear, after hence
I know that ghalib is worthless, pride-less, he is a nobody
But tell me dear, isn't it a deal, when he comes for free.

A poem from Faiz

Faiz Ahmed Faiz was perhaps one of the most famous modern day Urdu poets. He was born in Punjab in undivided India, and after partition decided to stay in Pakistan. He was also an avowed leftist (and communist) and much of his poetry is about revolutionary social change. I was reading the biographies (diaries) of Che Guevara past week, and I guess Che would have liked reading Faiz, if he could. I did not (could not) attempt to translate one of his forceful leftist social poems. Partially it was the free verse which I find tough to handle, and partially perhaps my lack of interest in the sentiment these days (quite a change for "commie general"). Anyway, here is one poem on a more traditional Urdu poetry theme. Don't think I did justice, but I don't think you can really do justice when translating poems anyway. I still liked translating it, though.

The first para is the transliterated Urdu (in roman). The second para is my own translation. I did not try to create a Urdu script version, my Urdu (script) knowledge being rather rudimentary. And I was not sure how useful a Devanagari script version one would be for it, so did not try that either.
1)
Tum ae ho no shab-e-intezar guzri hai
Talash mein hain sahar bar bar guzri hai
Junoon mein jitni bhi guzri bakaar guzri hai
Garcheh dil pe kharabi hazar guzri hai
You have not come, nor my waits end, in sight, has lain
The breeze passed by, searching you, time and again
This time of madness has still not been spent in vain,
Even though heart has taken a thousand kinds of pain.
2)
Hui hai hazarat-e-naseh se guftagoo jis shab,
Voh shab zarror sar-e-koo e yaar guzri hai
Voh baat sarey fasaney mein jiska zikr na tha
Voh baat un ko bahut nagawar guzri hai
The evenings that were spend in confabulating with the wise and sane
The same evenings were also spend at the top of my dear one's lane
The one thing which the tale didn't say, never did not contain
It is the same thing that has caused her offence, in the main.
3)
Na gul khile, na unse mile, na mai pee hai
Ajib rang mei ab ke bahar guzri hai
Chaman pe gharat-e-gulchin sey janey kya guzri
Qafas pe aaj saba be-qarar guzri hai
Flowers didn't bloom, nor saw you, nor did I take wine,
The spring passed by in strange colour around this time,
Wonder what befell the garden, who was the flower thief
Even the breeze touched the cage today in restless grief.

Impressionists at the National Museum

Good to be back home again. Had visited the National Museum in Stockholm last weekend. It is probably not much larger than our very own National Gallery of Modern Art in Delhi, but the collection of old european masters is good. They have paintings from both renaissance and modern eras. In fact at the time of my visit, a great exibition on pre-raphealite painting was going on. Of that, perhaps another day. From early teens, my main interest in painting has been in impressionist and post-impressionist forms. So I did get some satisfaction in spending hours staring a the few pieces that were there of impressionist masters. Here are a few samples captured directly from my camera (using flash was not allowed) ....

Monet's "From the mouth of Schelde"

Starting with the "god" of impressionism,

Camille Pissaro's "Landscape from pontoise" 1874

Another guru. Whatever he paints is gold.

Camille Corot's "Red rocks in Civita Castellana"
I had not heard of this painter before, but this one looked pretty.

Alfred Sisley's "Landscape from Bougivil", 1873
Another famous impressionist master.

Adolphe Monticelli's "Party Strolling In Park With a Dog"

Hadn't heard of Monticelli . But his style seemed quite impressionist as well

Eugene Boudin's "harbour in fecamp", 1824

A discovery for me.

Paul Cezanne's "landscape"

One of the most admired Masters.

Paul Gauguin "landscape from arles", 1888

Flattening Peculiar to Gauguin. I stare for hours and hours and still don't understand Gauguin...

Now comes the time for the dedication. Let it be the muse again. The one who is inspiration for all art. The one worthy worship. She may be fickle but life is colourless without her... Let it also be my sister, who is the opposite of me in every sense, except for our shared interest in impressionism :-).

Inverse Holi

Today is holi in india. The festival of colours. The festival in which paint is sprayed by everybody on everybody else. And somehow nature also follows the people, bringing in the first bright summer sun. Here in stockholm, sweden the very opposite is happening. It is snowing and everything is going colourless. And somehow I seem to enjoy the dull austere beauty of snowy colourlessness even more than the brightness of indian summers. Perhaps it brings back memories of years spent among the himalayas in manali. Anyway here are some photographs shot with my mobile phone.

Near my apartment

Kista centre (nicknamed Chipsta because of the Tech Companies )

My office building

From my office window. Adobe Technologies building. Major major major... mentioned the purpose of windows seats in offices in japan. Thankfully this is not japan.

From the front window..

Someone made fun of me the last time I included the photograph of a backyard. I refuse to desist :-). Yes. Here is the backyard of the apartment :-)

Lalla's verses

Lalleshwari or Lal-Ded, is probably the most famous poet-saint from Kashmir. She was born in early fourteenth century kashmir, during the early years of transition to Muslim rule. She is especially popular for her short quatrains called Vaks (from Sanskrit vakya). Her writings are also probably some of the oldest samples of kashmiri language (verses or otherwise) that have come down to us, since most learned people would use Sanskrit for composition. I had been reading the collection of Lalla's verses for the past week. I plan to share some of kashmiri originals here. Along with those I am putting my own English translation, in rhymed quatrains, without being "interpretive", as some translators tend to do. I know it is still almost sacrilegious to translate her, but I hope Lalla will forgive me my (hopefully) harmless pastime.

First para is the English transliteration and second line is the the Devanagari generated at www.hindikalam.com. Third para has the English translation.

---------------------------------------------
1)
chhaan\thaan loosas paniy paanas
chhyapith gyaanas votum n kunchh
lay karmas t vochas althaanas
bari bari baan t chyavaan n koonh

छानठान लूसस पनिय पानस
छयपिथ गयानस वोतुम न कुनछ
लय करमस त वोचस अलथानस
बरि बरि बान त चयवान न कूनह

Searched myself, I, night and day,
Incomparable is the hidden way,
Finally reached the fountain of nectar sweet
Filled glasses everywhere but no drinker I meet.

2)
shey van cha\tith shashikal vozam
prakrath ha\nzam pavan seeat
loluki naar vaali\nji buzum
shak\nr lobum tamiy seeat

शेय वन चटिथ शशिकल वोज़म
परकरथ हंज़म पवन सीअत
लोलुकि नार वालिंजि बुज़ुम
शकंर लोबुम तमिय सीअत

Cut six forests and woke up the moon
Fought the wind and subdued it soon
Burnt my heart in love and held it alight
Then found Sankara in its glowing light

3)
Makaris zan mal cholum manas
aad mey labas zanas zaan
suh yali \thyu\thum nishi paanas
soruy suy t boh na kenh

मकरिस ज़न मल चोलुम मनस
आद मेय लबस ज़नस ज़ान
सुह यलि ठयुठुम निशि पानस
सोरुय सुय त बोह ना केनह

Cleared the dust of my mind
And myself did I finally see
When he came and sat nearby
He was all and who am me

4)
chaalun chhu vuzmal t tra\tay
chaalun chhu ma\ndinyan ga\tkaar
chaalun chhu panun paan ka\dun ghra\tay
hyet mali santoosh vati paanay

चालुन छु वुज़मल त त्रटय
चालुन छु मंदिनयन गटकार
चालुन छु पनुन पान कडुन घरटय
हयेत मलि सनतूश वति पानय

Thunder and lightening, if you bear
Moonless dark nights silently endure
Drag yourself through a grinding mill
Peace will come to you son, it surely will

---------------------------------------------

As usual, any suggestions/corrections are welcome.

Now for the dedication. Since this poultry, let the dedication be to the Muse herself. Let her never abandon us...

Two Poems

Here are two poems I came across recently.

The first one is from Master Zind(a) Koul, one of the mystic poets from Kashmir. The poems is in Kashmiri, so I wrote roman transliteration (line 2 of every stanza) and created the Devanagari (line 1 of every stanza) on http://www.hindikalam.com. I have also tried to do a more or less literal English translation (line 3 of every stanza). The idea was to convey the literal meaning only. I made little effort to keep any form of rhyme and none for the metre. Might try that another time. I am not really good at either Kashmiri (can hardly speak) or poetry, so any corrections/suggestions are welcome.

This poem is called Samran (Remembrance) and won the Sahitya Akademi award for the author. Here it goes.

---

1)
सुमिरन पनुन मेय दिचुनम लोलुक निशान वेसिये
रुचरुम तोगुम ना रोवुम औसोम ना बान वेसिया

Sumiran panun mey dichunam loluk nishaan vesiye
Ruchrum togum na rovum ausom na baan vesiya

He left me his remembrance, a sign of his love
I Lost it my dear, didn't have a safe place, a hidden cove

2)

पथ कलिये छुम ने दयुतमुत सवन मौखता दान वेसियेह
आयनेय सारेय कया लबख वयने तिम मौखता दान वेसियेह

Path kaliye chhum ne dyutmut swan maukhta daan vesiyeh
Aayney saarey kya labakh vayane tim maukhta daan vesiyeh

In times past, did I ever give, gold and pearls away
Poor blind me, how can I now see, where the pearls lay

3)

वैनेयिजि मैनज़े थोवुन घोचा, हावुन थोवुम अथस पयठ
रह कयुअसे छ कोर मेह पानस नौकसाना पान वेसियेह

Vaineyiji mainze thovun ghocha, haavun thovum athas pya\th
Rah kyuase chh kor meh paanas nauksaana paan vesiyeh

Should have hid deep it in the heart, where the secrets lay,
In a show of rich pride, put it on my palm, and gave it away

4)

हवुन छुह रावरावुन, छावुक समर छुह खैमि
थावन छ छावा बापत, बानन त ठान वेसियेह

Havun chhuh raavraavun, chhaavuk samar chhuh khaimi
Thaavan chh chhaava baapat, baanan t \thaan vesiyeh

To show is to lose, I know it now, what is precious you must hide,
The the dish is on boil, allow it to roil, but keep the lid tight.

5)

येने सुह निशान रोवुम, तेने मच गमिच चे फ़ुलवह
नयुन होन त कहन ति फ़ेरान छस वान वान वेसियेह

Yene suh nishaan rovum, tene mach gamich che fulvah
Nyun hon t kahn ti feraan chhas vaan vaan vesiyeh

The sign now lost, despondent me, I wander everywhere,
Asking the everysame thing, did you glimpse it, anywhere dear

6)

REPLY:

यछ पछ म हार बयाखा हयथ यूर वाति कँनछा
तस छा कमि निशनन, बयय बयय खज़ान वेसिये

Ychh pchh m haar byaakha hyath yoor vaati k\mnchha
Tas chha kami nishanan, byay byay khazaan vesiye

Don't lose hope Friend, someone brings it, I know it will be soon,
Does he lack signs, the giver of all treasures, under sun and moon

7)

ड़ोलान कोहन वनन मनज़ शोलन छ गुलशनन मनज़
जयोतन छ तारकन मनज़, कयतयह निशन वेसियेह

\Rholaan kohan vanan manz sholan chh gulshanan manz
Jyotan chh taarakan manz, kaytyah nishan vesiyeh

They wander in plains and fields, bloom in flowers, gardens and vines
They sparkle in the stars and planets, they are uncountable, the signs.

8)

वेसेरिथ देलिथ पथर पयथ बुथ कया दिमव तेमिस निश
पोथ फेरनिकि पकान छा यिथ ही बहान वेसियेह

Veserith delith pathar pyath buth kya dimav temis nish
Poth pherniki pakaan chha yith hee bahaan vesiyeh

You say, you lost your way, have broken down, how to show him your face
To turn back now, Is it the really fair, the excuse is not good enough

9)

मनव ज़ि आस हैवुमव पथ चोरया तसुनध मोहब्बत
पयवनध ये आदनुक चह शुरये दोसतान वेसियेह

Manav zi aas haevumav path chorya tasundh mohabbat
Pyavandh ye aadnuk chah shurye dostaan vesiyeh

Even if we turn back, can we lose his love, in this easy way
A bond unbreakable, the ground of our being, it is no childs play?

10)

दिल फुटयमतयन छु तोशन, यच गरिमतयन छु रोशन,
गछि वेरिमतयन सुदामन, परछ गायिबान वेसियेह

Dil phu\tymatyn chhu toshan, yach garimatyan chhu roshan,
Gachhi verimatyan sudaaman, prachh gaayibaan vesiyeh

He is the healer of broken heart, and the tamer of the proud mind
If you don't trust me, ask sudaama, or some true lover you find.

11)

आनध पख तति छु आसन बवध बरोर सुरदासुन
बोज़ान छुह माय लेगिथ लोलुकै तरान वेसियेह

Aandh pakh tati chhu aasan bvadh bror surdaasun
Bozaan chhuh maay legith lolukai taraan vesiyeh

Everpresent, invisible, the playful child of surdas, wanders about and above.
With great joy and merriment, hears these songs, sung of love.



I don't think there are any copyright issues in posting the orignal, but in case you feel there are please let me know




The second one is a Pakistani poet by name of Kateel Shafai. Found the poem on the website www.kavitakosh.org. Among Pakistani peots I personally like Faiz Ahmed Faiz the most. Discovered Kateel only a couple of weeks back and liked his use of simple language. Here is the poem and the translation by yours truly. Tried to keep as close the original literal meaning as possible, without sounding too awkward

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पहले तो अपने दिल की रज़ा जान जाइये
फिर जो निगाह-ए-यार कहे मान जाइये

First learn you must, of your hearts way
then do as the beloved's eyes do say,

पहले मिज़ाज-ए-राहगुज़र जान जाइये
फिर गर्द-ए-राह जो भी कहे मान जाइये

First know where the travellers mood may be
Then accept what the road's dust decree.

कुछ कह रही है आपके सीने की धड़कने
मेरी सुनें तो दिल का कहा मान जाइये

Something my dear, your heartbeats whispered now
If you may heed my suggestion, do follow it love

इक धूप सी जमी है निगाहों के आस पास
ये आप हैं तो आप पे क़ुर्बान जाइये

The sun is blinding my eyes, I guess,
Or is it you, the one I want to bless.

शायद हुज़ूर से कोई निस्बत हमें भी हो
आँखों में झाँक कर हमें पहचान जाइये

I wonder if your friend I may possibly be.
Look deeply in my eyes and recognize me

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Now comes the customary homage to Colonel. For Colonel poetry is pronounced (and also written and thought and cooked and devoured and ...) as poultry. Those two words are equivalent entities (isomorphisms to use the mathematical term) in his dictionary. And though poetry can have fairly interesting mathematical structure in metre and rhyming, I have for some reason been unable to evince his interest towards its non-avian properties. And though I like chicken, I am not all that fond of those birds to waste a couple of hours on it. So my interest or inspiration (or perversion if you may like to call that) comes from elsewhere. Who or what that may be will have to wait for some other day...