When women make advances

"I invite and you act high and mighty?" I said. He spluttered in indignation. "That's unfair. I don't know what it is about, the meaning, the words…" "Honey, that is what the first line means." I explained patiently.

We were listening to pilachina biguvaTaraa from Malleeswari.

Released in 1951, Malleeswari is a masterpiece by BN Reddi, a lovely film, with great music by S Rajeswara Rao. The songs were written by Devulapalli Krishna Sastry, his first venture into film lyrics, and the combination of Rajeswara Rao and Krishna Sastry produced some gems of songs.

For sheer evocative poetry in film songs, there is no better example than manasuna mallela maalaloogenE. Based on Yaman-Kalyan, the tune is haunting, and the lyric poignant. The song starts with the anupallavi, sung once only, and meanders from image to image; joy of reunion, relived pangs of separation to joy of reunion again; it speaks of sad loneliness in waiting, ending with a fervent plea to be never separated again.

My favourite line in the song is

gaDiya yEni ika viDichi pOkumaa, egasina hRdayamu pagulaneekumaa.
Lest the heart that leapt (in joy) break, don't leave me now, not for a moment.

Though I admired her many-faceted talent, I am not a fan of P Bhanumathi's voice. But in manasuna mallela she achieved a dreamy perfection, and the song always makes me cry.

There are other lovely songs in Malleeswari, of course, but I rather like pilachina biguvaTaraa. It is a perfect javali and a lovely conventional composition. A javali is a lightweight composition, brisker in tempo than the slow paced padam. The theme is romance, ragas and talams chosen are uncomplicated, and the lyric is never high poetry or in classical language.

The reason I like the song is somewhat complicated, though. Javali entered South Indian music through the influence of the Bahmani Sultanate, opine some scholars. Its origins were in ghazals says Aripirala Satyanarayana Murthy, in his Sangita Sabdartha Chandrika.

Now Malleeswari is set in the early sixteenth century, in the Vijayanagar Empire, during Krishnadevaraya's reign. In the film, the king watches Malli dance while travelling incognito. It is delicious to think then, that this javali might well have been the first ever performed, even if it is just a story, not based on any historical fact.

More, Krishna Sastry uses cheluvalu taamE valachi vachchina with great aptness and sense of humour. It is doffing a hat at the father of Telugu poetry, Allasani Peddana, who first said it in his Manucharitram, where Varoodhini laments:

వనిత దనంత దా వలచి వచ్చిన జుల్కన కాదె యేరికిన్?
A woman making advances is held in disdain by everybody.

Peddana was one of the leading lights at Krishnadevaraya's court, one of the ashta diggajas, the eight court poets. If you imagine that the court poet travelling with the king is Peddana, you can also imagine that this javali was where he got the idea! Time travel and impossibilities all achieved, yeah. Krishna Sastry, Peddana, same difference.

If you watch the song, you can see that though the lyric maybe of a scorned woman's accusation, Malli sings it to her sweetheart, entertaining him as they wait out a thunderstorm in a cave. Bhanumathi as Malli dances in gay abandon, laughingly taunting Nagaraju, played by NT Rama Rao. The insouciance of her dance is a joy to watch.

Here is my rendition of the lyric for non-Telugu readers:

పిలచిన బిగువటరా? ఔరౌర!
చెలువలు తామే వలచి వచ్చిన
భళిరా రాజా
pilachina biguvaTaraa? Auraura!
cheluvalu taamE valachi vachchina
bhaLiraa raajaa

I invite you, and you act all haughty?
Oh, if women make advances.
Very good, my lord

ఈ నయగారము యీ వయ్యారము
ఈ నవయవ్వనమాన నిను నే
పిలచిన బిగువటరా?
ee nayagaaramu ee vayyaaramu
ee navayavvanamaana ninu nE
pilachina biguvaTaraa?

This soft beauty, this sweet grace
Of fresh youth to partake and savour
I invite you, and you profess disdain?

గాలుల తేలెను గాఢపు మమతలు
నీలపు మబ్బుల నీడలు కదిలెను
అందెల రవళుల సందడి మరిమరి
అందగాడ యిటు తొందరసేయగ
పిలచిన బిగువటరా? ఔరౌర!
gaalula tElenu gaaDhapu mamatalu
neelapu mabbula neeDalu kadilenu
andela ravaLula sandaDi marimari
andagaaDa yiTu tondara sEyaga
pilachina biguvaTaraa? auraura!

Intense affections float on breezes
Shadows of dark clouds do stir
Clamouring chimes of anklets urge haste,
Handsome one, but you scorn me?
Oh, if women make advances.

He didn't think much of the song. "Pilu," he said dismissively.
"Um, Karnataka Kapi, or variations on the theme of." I said.
"Same difference, a rose by any other name," he snorted.
"We call it Hindustani coffee, though." I giggled.

Cheers!