Everyman’s Poet: Sirivennela.

To any Telugu-speaking person like me, who admires poetry but is either too lazy or too ignorant to find works of Telugu poets, Telugu cinema music is the next best alternative. As someone whose knowledge of music is limited, to say the least, words are my only way into a song. If I say I like a song, I am really saying I like what it is saying rather than how it sounds. Exceptions exist, of course, but they are limited to A. R. Rahman and Ilaiyaraaja.

There are many great Telugu poets who wrote for movies, and instead of letting the idea that cinema is somehow an inferior form of art, they used they art and skill to enrich the medium. Starting from Sir Sri, to Athreya, to C Na Re, to Veturi, and, finally, Seetha Rama Sasthry. While Veturi is the artist who laid the brickwork for modernism and complexity in film lyrics, Seetha Rama Sasthry is the artist I most gravitated towards. One of the reasosn for this is Veturi’s syntax and vocabulary are not always readily understood. Even in a simple song like ‘Avunana Kadana’ from Leader, the exact meaning of what the poet is trying to say refuses to reach you. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, in fact, that is what poetry is all about; layers that multiply as you begin to peel. But my teenage-self convinced me that I’m only going to explore film poetry that I can understand. Sasthry’s poetry can be complex too, but it’s rarely ever difficult to comprehend. He uses simple, everyday words to convey a complex thought.

‘Ghal Ghal’, a song from Nuvvostanante Nenoddantana, has this line — //Dhari dhaati urakalu vese ye nadhikaina thelisindha thanaloo ee vuravadi penchina tholichinukedhante//[Did any river that overflows beyond its bounds ever know the first raindrop that started it all?] This is how the poet chooses to allude to the microscopic and unpredictable nature of love. He makes use of words that are common experiences for every and any human being. First to convey an idea, then to invoke an imagery of a storm brewing inside the heart of a person who has decided to do anything for love. Effortless, but effective in all it is trying to say.

Being the admirer I am, I constantly speak about his words on my Twitter feed. When a mutual subtweeted my readiness to praise Seetharama Sastry by saying that he is immersed from head to toe in Brahminism, my knee-jerk reaction was to get defensive. Even though I took a few minutes, I understand where he is coming from. Most celebrated artists in our industry are Brahmins and as such, they’ve managed to define our thoughts and language for decades. ‘Apurupamaindhamma’ from Pavithra Bandham immediately comes to mind. The song is all about the ideal wife and how being someone’s wife is a woman’s way to fulfillment. But then again, the movie needs a song that says lofty things like this, so it can hit Soundharya’s character, and the viewer, like a slap when Venkatesh’s character tries to compensate for her service with money.

I am not trying to make unsustainable claims about someone on a piece that’s supposed to celebrate them. Take Kanche for example. A film that is supposed to be about finding parallels between the ideals that caused ‘The Holocaust’ and the caste system in India. ‘Raa Mundadugeddam’, an otherwise powerful song, has only one line — //Andariki sontham andala lokam kondarike undha pondhe adhikaaram// [This beautiful world belongs to everyone, do only a few have the right to own it?] — that barely scrapes the surface. Is that all there is to say? Then again, is it only on the lyricist? Because the film doesn’t really dig deep either.

This brings me to the other side of the argument. How much is the lyricist limited by the film’s message and the filmmaker’s vision? Surely, for someone like Sirivennela a weak source material is not much of a hindrance, is it? Did Sirivennela simply never get the opportunity to look at his privilege objectively? Hard to believe, but considering how most of caste representation in Telugu cinema comes from UC men and their need to be the savior, not really a stretch. [If I am missing any songs that do talk about caste-based oppression in an incisive manner, please let me know.]

With that, I am going to indulge the admirer in me and discuss the songs, categorized by genre, that are remarkable in essence and structure, despite the changing times and tastes.

Mythology:

Not my favorite genre of poetry, but I don’t get to pick and choose. And for what it’s worth, if I am ever listened to a story of the gods, it has to be this skillful and transcendent.

1. Aadhi Bikshuvu. Suhasini’s character takes Hari to a nearby Shiva temple, so he can pray to him and ask him Jyothi’s (Mun mun Sen) hand in marriage. Shastry uses this situation to write a ’Ninda Stuthi’ — a song or a poem where the poet slightly degrades a deity as a form of worship to express their own helplessness and desperation — where the blind protagonist discusses his relationship with god. The song’s first line itself tells you what it is going to be about. The writer asks, //Aadhi Bikshuvu vaadinedhi koredhi?//[He is the supreme beggar, what can I wish from him?] And the second line goes, //Boodidhiche vaadinedhi adigedhi?//[He gives away ashes, what can I ask of him?] As the song moves along it gets deeper into the mythology of the deity. A rather poignant line laments “He gave flowers — that ooze honey — a cursory lifespan, while cursing the rocks to live forever”.
2. Jaruguthunnadi Jagannatakam. A song that tries to contextualize the meaning of the Dashavatharam, by stripping it to its bare bones. It successfully rehashes the symbolism of the myth and turns it into stories that can easily find their place in an average human being’s life and its many struggles. Some of the credit must go to Mani Sharma’s composition as well, as he conjures up a musical arrangement on par with the words. [Addendum: Like many UC experts on religion and Hinduism, he too uses it to cement caste as a legitimate social structure. It’s easy for me to listen to this song and marvel at his knowledge and his mastery that allows him to traverse the rigid lanes of music without losing anything in the process, but I am not sure everyone feels the same.]
3. Vidatha Talapuna. Even though this song is more mystical/spiritual than mythological, it is just as powerful. From the film Sirivennela, this song alludes to the idea of artistic creation and how every act of it is just as significant and magical as the creation of the universe itself. The protagonist is a musician and here he talks about his creative process and how that means having to transform his energy into whichever manifestation the song needs him to take. [For the complete translation of the song, visit this link: http://krishnabab.blogspot.com/2009/12/kavanam-means-vidhata-talapuna-meaning.html.]

Inspirational/Motivational/Self-awakening:

1. Nee Prasnalu. The song begins as a way of letting the audience get the gravity of what the lead characters are doing and their comprehensions, while also foreshadowing what’s immediately to follow. The beginning — a line that translates to ‘No one is going to answer your questions for you’ — comes as a jolt not just at the character, but at the audience as well, who have been enjoying his reckless pursuits up until this point. Change is a part of life and this song sternly tries to nudge the film towards its next needed step. Few marvelous lines go //Porapadina padina jalipadadhe kaalam manalagaa//[Unlike us, time won’t feel sorry for us when we fall or make a mistake] or //Prathiputoka putalaa thana paatam vivaristhundha//[Will each day turn into a page and explain its lessons to you?]
2. Evaro Okaru. Ankuram means the beginning, the origin of something, something important. This song, then, is a callback to the title and places Sindhura (Revathi) as the one that takes the first step. She uses nature — first drop of rain, a rooster marking the beginning of the day, and a single firefly whose tiny light takes away the night’s right to be completely dark — to push herself and the people around her down a visibly risky path. A song becomes a classic if it works just as perfectly within the context of the film and without, Evaro Okaru is a perfect example of that.
3. Niggadeesi Adugu. Another strong-worded song that questions human evolution, and the fact that no matter how civilized we all seem on the outside, we are still motivated by the law of jungle — survival of the fittest. Then it goes further and talks about history and its reluctance to learn. //Ee charithra nerchukundhi pacchani paatam// [Which history learned a good/positive lesson?] //Ee kshanaana maarchukundhi chichulla maargam// [When did it rectify its flaming path?] And with lines like //Aggi thoti kadugu ee samaaja jeevachavaani// [Clean this society’s living dead with fire], it is bound to get your attention.
4. Chalo Re Chalo Re Chal. From the film Jalsa, this song is about a man who is on the brink of giving up his identity, in extension his philosophy. The film doesn’t have the scope to explore his life as a Naxalite, and his eventual disillusionment, so instead it creates enough space to fit a song that does if for us. As such the song tries to convey the loopholes in a movement that asks its leaders to be islands. //Champanide bathakavanee bathikenduku champamane namminche adavini adigemlaabham bathike dhaaretane?//[What is the point in asking the forest, that corners you into thinking that dying and killing are the only available choices, how to lead a proper life?].
5. Paadham Kadhalanantundha. Even though this is a short song and often ignored for other options, it has this one line that suggests the leap of faith we all frequently talk about in a way that deserves mentioning. //Lothentho adaganane padavalle adugesthe dhaareeyanu antunda kadalaina?//[If you move forward like a boat that doesn’t ask the sea its depth before getting into the water, would the sea refuse it a path?]

Existential/Commentary:

1. Badhulu Thochani. Change, even if it’s minute and even if it’s in a positive direction, is weird and complicated. Whether to embrace the changed person or mourn the loss of the old one is at the crux of this confusion, and the poet says as much in just two lines. //Munapatila leevantu kondaru nindhistu unte nijamo kado spashtanga teledela?//[When someone accuses you fo changing, how am I to know clearly if it’s the truth or not?] //sambarapadi ninu chupistu kondaru abhinandisthunte navvaalo nitturchalo telisedela?//[When someone else praises the new you and uses you as an example, should you laugh or sigh?] This is another great quality of the poet ,where he is able to convey the film’s central conflict better than the filmmaker.
2. Sarele Ooruko. Brahmanandham plays a domestic help, and he is trying to cheer a small girl who’s just lost her parents in an accident. What exactly can he say to make it all okay? Nothing really, but he tries still. If it doesn’t help her, it will at least serve as a break for the audience. He playfully asks //Chalese oorilo, janaale undara//[Don’t people live in cold towns?] //Yedaari dhaarilo, oasis undadha//[Aren’t there oasis in deserts?] Even though a line like this might go over a child’s head, it sticks with the listener — //Kokilamma aakalaina, tune maathram maarchade//[A cuckoo won’t change its tune even if it’s hungry]. Why should we be any different?
3. Neeke Nuvvu. A song about a woman who has lived a rather restrictive and traumatic life. She is slowly realising what she wants, but doesn’t have the luxury to stop herself from walking in the opposite direction. The below lines are just her way of warning herself that she knows better. //Uyyalalo pasi paapala ala aatalo alavatula// [Like a small kid on a swing, or like your habit while playing] //Aaraatame neduthundaga parugethake thadabaatuga// [When anxiety is pushing you, don’t run and misjudge your steps].
4. Ammamma Dot Com. A TV show about the links that need to be maintained between the past, present, and the future, if we want a sustainable society. I don’t remember much of the actual content, but the title song is remarkable. The title song is filled with reasoning that suggests how important past’s knowledge can be when used well. //Vunnapaatugaa kalagaledhugaa
   chandamaamaney cheree Jnaanam
   chinnanaatananey modhalayyindhiga
   daayi daayane oohaa gaanam//

The poet says that our curiosity to reach the moon isn’t a sudden whim. We have been nurturing the dream since the day our mother started calling to the moon towards her, while feeding us. What better way to convince us of the past’s relevance than to conjure up an image of a mother and her child, who is hanging by her waist?

Humor:

1. Amrutham Title Song. The title track is all about making fun of the average middle class man and his many silly struggles and victories. //Gaalaina raadhayya needhasale iruku addhillu//[Even air doesn’t flow freely in your tiny rented house] //Kaalaina peduthunda nee intlo penu thuphanasalu//[Would a storm ever dare to put its foot in such house?] The idea is to look at one’s limitations as boons. Yes, we find problems at every other corner, which means that the solutions are probably as easily accessible. It’s simplistic, but fits perfects with the show’s premise.
2. Chakravathi ki Veedhi. As insightful as it is humorous, this song is all about how a human being’s every minute is controlled by money. The beginning line itself suggests that there is no big leveller than money, even though the capacity and needs vastly differ. //Roti kapda room anni rupee rupale// [Food, clothing, and shelter are all forms of money], says one line nonchalantly, while another talks about the inescapability of it. //Jeevitam prati nimishamu sommichi puchukoraa//[In life, you have to pay for every minute you live.]
3. Yevadandi Veedu Robinhood. Keep in mind the fact that this song is about two men — a father and his son — planning to kill two orphaned kids. It’s still funny because it is weird watching a cowardly son coming up with evil ideas to impress his father, while his father rebukes every one of them. When the son suggests taking the kids to a horror movie so that they’d die scared, this is what the father had to say: //Pillini chusthe bejaarai ballini chusthe bembelai jaaruku chache magadheeruda//[You are scared shitless by cats and lizards, you mighty man] //Pillala maatemogaani horror film chusavo hallone hari antaavuraa//[Forget about the kids, if you watch a horror film you’d die in the hall.]
4. Thakadhimithana. From the film Ami Thumi, a song that truly captures the frequently used trope of shot-gun weddings that need to be done before the parents can catch up to their plans. While the man is busy starting a fight with anyone who wouldn’t help him, the woman, always practical in times of crisis, says Google for the information instead. //Siggutho Moham Dhinchuko Koncham Pelliki Adho Muchata// [Him: Lower your face coyly as it is a wedding whimsy] //Anthati Maha Neramem Cheshaam Endhuku Thalonchalata//[What big crime did we commit, why should we lower our heads?] You have to love a man who manages to capture a woman’s spunk.

It’s the norm to add the film’s title, a film he/she is famously associated with, to an artist’s name, but it’s interesting that K. Vishwanath’s decided to call the debutant lyricist of his film as ‘Sirivennela’ Seetha Rama Sasthry. Maybe, he already knew the skill of the man he is introducing, and maybe he was being selfish and decided that this man should always be associated with his film. I’m ending this fully aware that it feels incomplete, but that is what happens when you are talking about an artist whose work is as extensive and remarkable as Sirivennela’s.