An Oscar award for a 19th century Kerala poet?

Viju B
23 February 2013, 05:54 PM IST

I hope classical singer Bombay Jayashri, in case she wins an Oscar in the original song category for the movie Life of Pi, will have the humility to say in her Oscar speech that there is nothing original in her song.

Jayashri transliterated those beautiful lines into a Tamil song from the original lyrics, penned by a legendary 19th century poet from Kerala.

Ravi Varman Tampi, or Irayimman Tampi as he was popularly known, had dedicated this lullaby to Tranvancore King, Swati Thirunal, when he was just one year old.

Most of us in Kerala since then have grown up listening to this soothing lullaby that our mothers whispered into our ears, as the song lulled us into deep slumber, even in humid summer nights.

The Tamil song in the movie goes like this: Mayilo togai Mayilo, kuyilo koovum kuyilo?" (Are you a peacock or its feathers? Are you a Koel or its music?)

The original Malayalam lullaby is: Chanchadi aadum mayilo, Mridu Panjamam Padum Kuyilo? (Are you a dancing peacock or a singing Koel)

Irayimman Tampi's lullaby is set in the enchanting Nelambari raga, which has since then been used, reused and recycled in numerous Malayalam movie songs, but lyricists and composers were not stupid enough to say that they wrote the song.

Bombay Jayashri's defence, after she was exposed for plagiarising the song, was that she had heard these words and usages from her mother and grandmother and, "so, why would I take something from Irayimman Thampi's work."

This episode points out what is wrong with Indian art and culture today. Indian artists are being recognised in the west, as the Western audience is now exposed to a body of music that is completely different from theirs, a cultural identity that was evolved not through the mechanisation of science and technology, but in close relationship with nature-god.

But be it A R Rahman- who had freely lifted folk tunes from Kerala and Tamil Nadu in movies like Roja or Bombay and added Western beats--or any other modern day composer seems to rarely acknowledge this fact that their music got global recognition because of this 'inspiration' back home.

It is another fact that Rahman's music in Slum Dog Millionaire was amongst his worst compositions till date.

But earlier music composers like legendry, Ilayaraja, Devarajan, Naushad and Salil Chowdury were humble enough to say that they looked for 'inspiration' in the rich tradition of folk and classical music. There is nothing wrong in getting inspired by the roots that shaped them, especially given the fact that there is nothing original in art-forms, except for the subjectivity of the artist.

But we as a country have been so colonised in our thought process and even in methods of evaluating our own art-forms, we need an Oscar or a Booker prize to feel that we are the best.

The English media is to be blamed for whipping this inferiority complex of looking up to the West for approval, ignoring some brilliant works of regional musicians and writers across the country.

The booker prize winning book, Life of Pi and its movie adaptation, is yet another classic example how we now need to connect to our own neighborhood reality through the eyes of a foreigner.

Today, we either look down upon our country or say we are all about exotica and become chauvinistically proud of our cultural heritage. There is no middle level, a critical examination, a sincere quest to look at relationships, with people and nature around us.

Great work of Art, as Milan Kundera said, should be an enquiry into a deeper search for the question of our own existence, within the context of the society one lives in.

The current generation of Indian English literature is at the most good journalism or fashionable writing, but not a great work of art.
For that the writer needs to personally experience the dynamic Indian reality or at least meditate upon its different layers, empathizing with his characters, whose strength and follies are hidden at a deeply totemic and spiritual level.

Maybe that is the single reason that many discerning readers go back and re-read the great masters like Tolstoy, Camu or Marquez, when they need to assuage themselves with the problem of existence and look for answers into the cosmic nature of life as a whole.

Life of Pi, if it wins Oscars, would at the best, earn some good tourism revenue for the country. And, Bombay Jayashri, can shine in the halo of yet another Slumdog Millionaire.