Idly-Sambar, a South Indian delicacy? Nah!

Think idly-sambar, and what image pops up in your head immediately?

Yes, the logo of Nalla Madras has eight excellent, fluffy idlis, vadas, chutney, and sambhar.

Nalla Madras logo

And where would you find this heavenly breakfast?

“Go to any self-respecting place serving tiffin, I say” would be a Subramaniam’s answer.

Well, if you asked a Kapoor, the answer would be, “Go to any Madrasi hotel bhai.”

Peoples of any state South of the Vindhyas were Madrasis to my brethren living in the North of the Vindyas. We in the South would refer to those north of the Vindhyas as Hindi-kaaranga (Hindi wallahs).

I’m talking mid-70s up until late90s.

Each was the object of ridicule for the other. I can’t blame the people. Hindi films showed South Indians as comical figures with a tuft and dhoti (think actor Mehmood). Tamil films portrayed our North Indian brethren as merciless, fat, usually cast as pawn brokers, speaking pidgin Tamil.

Thanks to A R Rehman and the RRRs and PS1’s and the internet, and general increased awareness, such terms are no longer in vogue, which is fantastic. The Kapoors and the Sharmas know that Tamil Nādu is different from Karnataka, which is different from Kerala, which is different from Andhra, and so on.

Wait, what? There are two Andhras now? What’s the other one called? Oh yes, Telangana.

Rombo confusing saar.

Now going back to idly-sambhar. Supposing you had a reporter from a popular South Indian newspaper stop you on the street in a busy Chennai intersection at a traffic light and ask you.

“Sir, do you know from where did the idly and sambar originate?” You would probably look at the guy weirdly and ask if his head is screwed in the right place.

If the reporter persisted, you would probably turn on the most indignant glare and reply,

“C’mon bro, everyone knows that idly-sambar is from Chennai and is a very popular all over the South and now in the North of India too.”

Ding Ding – correct answer! This is what you would expect to hear.

Instead, the reporter would smash it right back into your forehand with a smirk.

“You are wrong, sir.”

You start to react indignantly, but suddenly you hear a lot of honking behind you, spiced up with some cuss words questioning your parentage, etc., and you suddenly realize the light has turned green and you have been holding up the traffic.

So, you speed away, shaking your head and punching the air. If you were on a motorcycle or scooter, that is.

Difficult to punch the air inside a car, especially if you are driving a car like the Maruti 800.

All this spiel to just talk about the origins of the idly and sambar? Yes, like they would say in Chennai.

“Build up saar.”

Idly-sambar

Let’s get to know the idly batter, er….better.

There are many theories of where the humble idly originated.

According to food historian KT Acharya, the chef employed by a Hindu-Buddhist king of Indonesia may have been the mastermind behind the invention of idly and was the person responsible.

Acharya mentions an Indonesian dish called kedli, which, according to him, is like an idly. The chef must have pinched this recipe, changed the ratio of the ingredients and shape, and proudly presented it to the king.

“O Mighty One, I present to you, my culinary invention, the Idly .”And the king must have awarded the chef a thousand gold coins. It might have turned into a thousand lashes if some jealous sous-chef ratted to the king that it’s just a rehash of the kedli.

Since this is not mentioned anywhere in the history books, I presume the chef neatly pocketed the thousand gold coins and must have had a wild night with his mates.

Yet another theory suggests that South India and Arabia had a long-standing trading relationship well before the arrival of the prophets; Arab traders settled in South India and made certain rice cakes that were later recognized as idlis.

Yet another theory claims that the idly is a version of the Ida. This dish came to South India in the 10th century CE when the silk-weaving community of Saurashtra settled in Tamil Nadu.

I would go with the idly from Indonesia theory. Why? Just simbly ….did I just give away my Kerala roots?

Now to dive into the origins of sambar.

His Highness Shahu Maharaj

According to one version of a legend, the souring agent called ‘Kokum,’ a tropical fruit used mainly in Western India, ran out while a king named Shahu Maharaj, who owed allegiance to Sambhaji Maharaj, son of the great Maratha warrior Shivaji Maharaj, was preparing a famous Maharashtrian dish with lentils called ‘Amti.’

The king substituted tamarind for the ‘Kokum,’ and bingo, the sambar, was born.

Why would the great king Shahu Maharaj don an apron and go to the kitchen to prepare Amti when he had thousands of vassals waiting on him hand and foot? I don’t know.

My guess is it must have gone on like this.

Sambaji Maharaj: “I feel like eating some Amti today. Ask the royal cook to prepare some Amti.”

After about ten minutes, the shivering royal cook said, “A thousand apologies, O mighty one, we are out of kokum.”

A less benevolent king might have said, “What, no kokum? All you must do is cook, and you can’t keep track of your pantry stocks?” “Off with his head.”

However, Sambaji Maharaj was a kind ruler who thought outside the box.

“Never mind, add tamarind instead,” said Sambaji Maharaj, and voila, a new dish was born.

Kokum
Tamarind

Another legend has it that during one of Shambhaji’s visits to Thanjavur, South India, the royal kitchens created a special lentil dish they named Sambhar in his honor. For the uninitiated, Thanjavur was ruled by the Marathas, and the mighty Maratha kings visited Thanjavur off and on. The Maharaja is sure to have ended up with king-sized saddle sores at the journey’s end.

It’s a long ride on the back of a horse. Express trains take two full days to complete the journey, giving you an idea of the distance involved. Someone must have come up with a salve to get rid of a sore behind, but that’s another story for another blog.

Kottu, a dish described in Tamil literature, is often viewed as the ancestor of sambhar, and the concept of combining lentils and vegetables in a single dish is common in traditional Tamil cooking.

Interestingly, the lentils’ Tuvar Dal’ (also called ‘Toor’) and ‘Arhar,’ popular dals in Western India, form the basis of the Sambhar. Also, the Tuvar Dal is not widely known in Tamil Nadu, so using a Maharashtrian Dal in a well-known Tamil dish may seem strange.

So, QED.

Idly – from Indonesia
Sambar – from Maharashtra

So the next time you slurp your sambar and eat melt-in-your-mouth idlis, think of the Indonesians and the Maratha kings.

Doubt if you will, but I have said what I had to say.

Cited Sources

A Ray of light in a bleak cinematic landscape

The production cost of PS1 (Ponniyin Selvan – part 1) was around US$ 60 million – source, the vast internet.

The director of this movie, Mani Ratnam, was not likely constrained by budgets. I suppose he could hire the best top-tier talent available. Not just actors but the best technicians as well. The sets are lavish, bordering on garishness, and the entire production smacks of a fairy-tale setting. Which probably was the central idea of this film.

To each his own, I guess. I prefer realism in my movies.

And there are movies made with shoestring budgets.

The tale of another production

This production dragged on for years due to the lack of funding, which caused frequent setbacks. The director could not raise any money from film producers, so he couldn’t hire the best available talent. Most crew members lacked experience and worked on an unpaid basis. Ravi Shankar, not yet the legendary sitar player, composed the score.

Battling all these constraints, the final product, however, manages to convey a very pure, personal story partly because of everyone involved’s relative innocence. It was later called “one of the greatest pictures ever made” by Philip French, a film critic for The Observer.

The film was Pather Panchali (Song of the Open Road), in which a family in a small village in the Indian state of Bengal endures abject poverty.

The director?

Satyajit Ray.

Pather Panchali – 1955

His birth

Satyajit Ray was born May 2, 1921, in Calcutta [now Kolkata], India, and died April 23, 1992, in Calcutta

His early days

Ray’s father passed away when he was young, so he was raised by his mother. Both his grandfather and father were authors and artists. He attended a public school where he learned Bengali. He then transferred to Presidency College, the best university in Calcutta, where he was instructed in English. As a result, he could graduate from high school in 1940, having achieved native proficiency in both languages.

At Santiniketan

In 1940, his mother encouraged him to enroll in art classes at Rabindranath Tagore’s Santiniketan University, located north of Calcutta. At Santiniketan, Ray, whose previous life experiences had been limited to the urban and Western spheres, was exposed to Indian and other Eastern art and developed a deeper appreciation for both Eastern and Western culture.

His first job

Back in Calcutta in 1943, Ray worked as a commercial illustrator for a publishing house. He also worked as an art director for a British-owned advertising agency, eventually rising to prominence as a typographer and book-jacket designer.

Inspiration

Pather Panchali, a novel by Bibhuti Bhushan Banarjee, was one of the books he illustrated in 1944. This book first sparked his interest in the novel’s potential as a film.

Ray’s lifelong love of movies led him to try his hand at screenwriting and, in 1947, to help establish the Calcutta Film Society. In 1949, while French director Jean Renoir was in Bengal to film The River, he inspired Ray to pursue a career in film.

The bleak story, low production style, and shooting with non-professional actors, Vittorio De Sica’s The Bicycle Thief (1948) inspired Ray to film Pather Panchali.

Ray’s primary creative influence was Rabindranath Tagore, whose works inspired some of Ray’s finest films. Ray’s most accomplished film is probably Charulata(1964; The Lonely Wife), a tragic love triangle set in a privileged, Westernized Bengali family in 1879. Ghare Baire (1984; The Home and the World) is a sad study of Bengal’s first revolutionary movement. Set in 1907-08 during the period of British rule, Teen Kanya (1961); “Three Daughters,” English-language title, is a varied trilogy of short films about women.

Some international accolades

Martin Scorsese described his work, and I paraphrase, ‘treasures of cinema that should be watched by “everyone with interest in films.”

The Japanese master Akira Kurosawa went further: “Not to have seen his movies means existing in the world without seeing the sun or the moon.”

His movies are still relevant to this day and are still being screened at festivals. Ray retrospectives are still being screened across the world.

A fair conclusion?

Will a Bahubali or a PS1 survive the passage of time? With folded hands and bended knees (gross exaggeration), my answer is no.

And I say this with all the humility that I can muster.

Ray’s techniques that appeal to me

  • Real life characters that you can relate to
  • His frame has no unnecessary clutter and is steady
  • No exaggerated moves or histrionics by any of his cast
  • Screenplay based on good, grounded stories
  • The ability to capture the essence of the story and present it in the right perspective
  • His ability to leave the viewer with a creative space within his movies
  • Silence when required, music only when required
  • NO SONG AND DANCE SEQUENCES

Two of my favorite Ray films

It isn’t easy to pick my favorites, like asking a parent who is their favorite child.

Jalsaghar
My first Ray film was Jalsaghar (The Music Room), one of Ray’s finest films. The protagonist of Jalsaghar is Biswambhar, a feudal lord. He self-destructs himself by staging musical performances spending his limited money, to best the oafish young son of a moneylender.

The film investigates the idea that the period just before a system fails is prime time for creative peak performance. Biswambhar is stuck in his ways and will eventually be undone by his stubbornness. Jalsaghar was adapted from a short story by Bengali author Tarasankar Bandyopadhyay.

Although Jalsaghar was met with lukewarm reviews upon its initial release in India, it won the Presidential Award for best film in India. It was instrumental in establishing Ray’s reputation as a director beyond India. As time has passed, it has been widely hailed as one of the greatest movies ever made and is now considered a cinematic classic.

Angantuk
The movie shows a Calcutta resident Anila Bose receives a letter from someone posing as her missing uncle, Manmohan Mitra. The latter decides to return to India to spend time with his only living relative, Anila, after living abroad for 35 years. While Anila anticipates it with excitement, Sudhindra, Anila’s husband, has doubts. Their son, Satyaki, quickly becomes friends with him after introducing himself as an anthropologist who has visited every continent.

When Anila mentions her grandfather’s will, Sudhindra immediately suspects that he has come to collect his share of the inheritance. While their son is convinced that he is who he says he is, Anila begins to have doubts about his identity.

The film’s central conflict revolves around the family’s efforts to learn the man’s true identity. Sudhindra puts the guest through a battery of tests, including a review of his identification documents. However, the visitor’s mind-reading skills cause embarrassment for both Sudhindra and his friend Rakshit. In a last-ditch effort to get to the bottom of things, Sudhindra has a lawyer friend interrogate the visitor. The lawyer makes no headway, and the lawyer’s temper flares up, and he tells the visitor to “either come clean or just clear out.”

The guest leaves the following morning. The family begins searching for him and tries to win him back, and now they know he has visited the executor of the will.

Later they find out that Manmohan has left them his inheritance after he moves to Australia.

Utpal Dutt plays the part of Manmohan Mitra brilliantly, and so too do the rest of the cast.

The Ray movies that I have experienced are:
Pather Panchali (Song of the Little Road) (1955) 115min B/W
Aparajito (The Unvanquished) (1956) 113 min B/W
Parash Pathar (The Philosopher’s Stone) (1957) 111 min B/W
Jalsaghar (The Music Room) (1958) 100 min B/W
Apur Sansar (The World of Apu) (1959) 106 min B/W
Devi (The Goddess) (1960), 93 min B/W
Mahanagar (The Big City) (1963) 131 min B/W
Charulata (The Lonely Wife) (1964) 117 min B/W
Kapurush-O-Mahapurush (The Crowd and the Holy Man) (1965) (Two-part film – The Crowd and The Holy Man, running at 74 min and 65 min respectively, B/W)
Nayak (The Hero) (1966) 120 min B/W
Joi Baba Felunath (The Elephant God) (1978) 112 min Colour
Ganashatru (Enemy of the People) (1989) 100 min Colour
Agantuk (The Stranger) (1991) 120 min color

For me, the benchmark of any movie I watch is a Ray movie, and only a few measure up to his creations.

The end

Kolkata, came to a complete halt after Ray’s death in 1992. At 6 feet and 3 inches tall, his man was justly hailed as one of the city’s most towering creatives. But he was more than just a Bengali director or even an Indian director; he was one of the most influential people in the postwar cinema.

He still towers over any present, past, or, I daresay, maybe even future filmmakers. (gross exaggeration, one last time)

Cited Sources

The Supremo of Swag -JPC

His swag was unique, and fans were utterly smitten. This guy could be slummier than the lowest slum dweller. Yet, he knew how to present himself with panache, dressing in well-tailored clothes and smoking 555s (an elite brand of cigarettes those days) in the style of a Westerner. He lived the life of a prince in his heydays, but in the end, he was broke and died a pauper.

In 1958, he married Sheila, an Anglo-Indian and the granddaughter of Coimbatore-based filmmaker Swamikannu Vincent. Their wedding was attended by many well-known people in the film industry and politics, such as chief minister Kamaraj. The first few days of their marriage had been smooth sailing.

His first heartbreak

Little did he know that his wife was cheating on him. One day, Sheila came clean about her secret love affair. He was devastated and bewildered by this news but took it squarely on the chin. He begged her to stay with him.

Several days later, she made a suicide attempt that he prevented. It was then that the couple decided to formally separate. In a few days, Sheila left for London, and he gave her all the support she needed despite her having jilted him.

A few days later, she wed a doctor in London with his blessings in a letter. The husband sacrifices his dignity and love for his ex-wife’s happiness. This is the stuff movies are made of.

His birth

He was born to JP Rodrigues & Roslyn, a couple from Tuticorin, in 1927. Christened Joseph Panimayadasan Rodriguez, he changed his name.

This was the name by which he became famous.

This is the story of Chandrababu, Babu, to his close friends.

Chandrababu was born to a wealthy and prominent Christian Paravar family. His father was a freedom fighter and the publisher of a newspaper called Sudhandhira Veeran. The British government seized the paper and the family’s other assets in 1929 when he was arrested for participating in the satyagraha movement and deported to Sri Lanka. His father took a job at a Tamil newspaper in Colombo, Sri Lanka, and the whole family moved there. Rodrigues later returned to Chennai in 1943 and worked as a journalist for the Tamil newspaper, Dinamani. The family made Triplicane their home.

Before his family relocated to Chennai, Chandrababu attended schools at St. Joseph’s College, Grandpass, Colombo, and Aquinas College. While in Colombo, Chandrababu got Westernized as Colombo was steeped in Western culture in those days. It is said that this was where Chandrababu got his panache and Western ways.

His first low point in life

Chandrababu gave off an impression of being utterly heartless by not attempting to earn and support his family. He also was perceived as an individual with a lack of self-control and decency because of his ways. This made him stand out as an oddity in a group of upstanding citizens. This was the low point in Chandrababu’s life. He often slept hungry, but figured out a way to get a hearty meal before long. He would stroll along the Marina and into Santhome, where he knew he could hang out with people his age. One was Vedachalam, or Veda, as he is more commonly known in Tamil cinema.

Veda was a prolific music director who frequently got his ‘inspiration’ from Hindi and English music, inspiration being a decent replacement for the verb copy.

Vedha’s list of songs is quite impressive. Click on this link to learn more.

Tabla Ramu, or Ramu, was another of his friends in the film-music industry. They used to hang out with Veda and had a good time listening to movies and music and daydreaming. They would feed Chandrababu, take care of him, and just have him sing and dance with gay abandon. This was in the 1950s before the slums had taken over Santhome beach.

Despite his family’s disapproval, Chandrababu strongly desired to pursue a career in acting. Only his friend Ganapathy inspired him to develop his acting abilities. Chandrababu was so good at it that he was asked to sing and dance at social gatherings, even as a kid.

Chandrababu met actors Sriram and B. R. Panthulu in his early years and later T. R. Mahalingam through them. His first role was in the supporting cast of the 1947 film Dhana Amaravathi, but he had trouble finding work after that.

Wikimedia Commons

The suicide attempt

In 1952, out of desperation, he ate copper sulfate crystals in an unsuccessful suicide attempt. His suicide note read that he had been depressed over being unable to meet S. S. Vasan. He also wanted his body to be turned over to B. S. Ramaiah, the director of his solo film. This attempt was in the cafeteria of Gemini Studios. Luckily for him and the industry, he was rushed to the hospital in time and recovered. One of those who rushed him to the hospital was Pudukottai Ganesan, the casting assistant at Gemini Studios. Pudukkotai Ganesan became the famous actor Gemini Ganesan in later years.

Suicide is illegal, so the police had to detain him. When the judge heard the reason for his attempted suicide, the judge asked him to demonstrate his acting skills during the trial. The judge was so impressed by Chandrababu’s performance of a Shakespearean monologue he decided to spare him jail time. After hearing about this incident, director Vasan cast Chandrababu in a small role in his 1952 film Moondru Pillaigal. The actor so impressed the director that he predicted that Chandrababu would become a famous actor. In the same year, Chandrababu acted in Chinna Durai and Mohana Sundaram.

Yodlee Yodlee

Chandrababu was inspired to yodel by western musicians like Gene Autry and Hank Williams, whose music he adored. Supposedly, he was the only South Indian singer-actor who could yodel. The song Poda Raja Podi Nadaydaa was the first time yodeling had been heard in a South Indian film. This song was in the movie Chinna Durai, which T. R. Mahalingam produced and directed.

Chandrababu’s yodeling skills!

Chandrababu received Rs 200 for his work in the movie Mohana Sundaram. He soon became the top comic by playing comedy routines in films with leading actors; Pudhaiyal with Sivaji Ganesan, Nadodi Mannan with MGR, and Mamanmagal with Gemini Ganesan. Who would have expected that he would earn over Rs.100,000 (roughly $10,000) per year at the height of his career? He made history as the highest-paid South Indian comedian, almost on par with the top-billed actors of the time, MGR and Shivaji Ganesan.

Connecting with his fanbase

It was said that Chandrababu would drive to the slums in his Fiat car to chat with the dwellers. It was simply his way of being cordial and being in touch with reality. Chandrababu also did this to show that he, like them, is human. He was known for his speeding. Incidentally, he was one of the film industry’s two fastest and most daring drivers. The other was Gemini Ganesan.

Chandrababu acted in seventy-six movies and showed great versatility, with many actors comparing his singing, dancing, and acting style to that of Danny Kaye and Bob Hope. His ascent in the film industry was achieved with his sheer versatility.

Chandrababu tried constructing a luxurious mansion where he could drive his car up to his bedroom on the first floor, possibly to browbeat the film industry. He had been insulted enough in his lowly years. He would also insist that the producers carry his cigarette tin. R.S. Manohar, a longtime friend and film villain would beg him not to force producers to do this.

Nothing was off-limits

Chandrababu was a straight shooter. He did not conform to the fake humility of the Tamil film industry, where there were no equals. Either you were an ‘anne’ (big brother) or a ‘tambi’ (younger brother). You don’t need a MENSA score of 140 to understand that this was a polished way of showing class distinction. But for Chandrababu, there was no kowtowing this philosophy. If you were an idiot, he called you that to your face.

After the Indo-Pakistani war ended in 1965, a similar but even more shocking incident occurred in New Delhi. Many actors and actresses from South Indian films made the trip to New Delhi to perform for the servicemen and women who had served their country. Top actor Sivaji Ganesan shared the stage with Gemini Ganesh, Savithri, Jayalalitha, Padmini, Devika, P. Suseela, Kannadasan, Al. Srinivasan, M. S. Viswanathan, P.B. Sreenivos, and dozens more. As a result of an invitation from Dr. S. Radhakrishnan, the Madras team was able to spend the evening at the Rashtrapathi Bhavan. 

The President requested a musical performance from MSV. Chandrababu sang, “Pirakkum podhum azhuginraai…” MSV accompanied him on the harmonium. The song and the comedian’s performance brought the President to tears, and he showered praise on the singer and the lyricist, Kannadasan. Chandrababu suddenly jumped up from the floor and onto the President’s lap, pinching his cheeks and exclaiming, “Kanna, nee periya rasiganda!” in Tamil (meaning: you are a great fan, my dear). The philosopher seemed unperturbed by the situation, laughing the whole time. So that was Chandrababu for you.

One of the greatest ‘heroes’ of that time, M.G. Ramachandran, or MGR as known, commanded such an extreme following and fawning in the industry; he was simply Mr. MGR to him. In private, the rumor was that for Chandrababu, the initials MGR stood for ‘Mighty Graceless Rapscallion.’ Regardless, Chandrababu still cast MGR in a film he directed. He arranged with a financier to direct his first film Maadi Veettu Ezhai with M. G. Ramachandran as the hero. As a result of Ramachandran’s lack of cooperation, he was ultimately unsuccessful in this endeavor. The film project was also dropped. Scriptwriter Aroordhas chronicled the reasons for Ramachandran’s non-cooperation in his 2002 memoirs. It is because Chandrababu became abusive towards Ramachandran’s elder sibling M. G. Chakrapani.

There was also the renowned lyricist Kannadasan who got on to his wrong side. Even though he wrote Kavalai Illaadha Manindhan with Chandrababu as the protagonist, he never overcame the difficulties of that decision.

The downward spiral of doom

By now, Chandrababu was caught on a downward spiral with alcohol and prescription medication. Despite his destructive lifestyle, MGR offered him a helping hand by offering him a role in his production, Adimai Penn, released in 1969.

Chandrababu’s role as a rickshaw puller in Sabhash Meena was not recognized, although he outshone Sivaji Ganesan, the then top-notch talent in histrionics then, simply because he had made enemies in high places. This naivete led to his ultimate downfall. It was too late for Chandrababu to change his fortunes in the 1950s.

Chandrababu’s final shot was to act and direct a film, Thattungal Thirakkappadum, in 1966. The film was highly acclaimed for its cinematography but was not a box-office success.

Chandrababu spent his last days penniless. During his final years, he stayed in the house of his good friend M. S. Viswanathan until his death on 8 March 1974. Sivaji Ganesan arranged all his last rites and was buried in Quibble Island, Chennai.

References:

Dabba O Dabba

This is a small music quiz for you.

1) What is harmony?
2) What is a beat?
3) How is this connected with the dabbawallahs of Mumbai?

I finished my Senior Cambridge exams, which happened in December. This is unlike standard board exams, which are in April or so. So, I had a good 5 to 6 months before I could enroll in a college course. The axiom then was that an idle mind is a devil’s workshop. So before the shaitan could start applying for a three-phase connection to create a pattarai (Tamil word for workshop), I was carted away to ‘Amchi Mumbai,’ where my brother was posted.

So with trepidation, I set out to Bombay, as it was called at that time, bag and baggage. The plan was that I was to try out several career-oriented courses, and if I liked any, I would sign up. Since the earliest I could sign up…… I’ll leave that to your intelligence, dear reader. The experiment didn’t work so well, especially ‘the aaplla manoos’ part of the scenario, and so I was back, bag, baggage, and experience in Madras by about April.

During the four months in Bombay, I got a job as an apprentice audit clerk with a chartered accountant firm in Nariman Point. I was living with the bro in Borivli. In those days, the mid-seventies, Borivli was at the edge of civilization. Those morning train rides from Borivli to Churchgate and back were eye-opening. Everything went about in sheer harmony (clue number 1). If you rode the same compartment, you were with the same folks, and you were kind of guaranteed the same seat. Don’t ask me how. Things just happen in Bombay.

The dabbawallas

Then, I noticed these guys in off-white kurta-pajamas, with a neta cap to boot, scurrying around with long crates with similar-looking containers. They boarded the luggage compartment, and there was a minimum fuss in their operation until you crossed their path. Then all of hell would break loose.

The dabbawallahs of Mumbai

With some Sherlock Holming, I discovered that these were Mumbai’s dabbawallahs. Now that the stage is set let’s burrow in.

The dabbawallas coordinate home-cooked meal delivery to thousands of Indian office workers and have provided them a modest $3-7 monthly charge.

Some insights which you might not have known:

A lil’ bit of history

Dabbawalas first came into existence in 1890, when a Parsi banker in Mumbai’s Ballard Pier needed lunch delivered to his office. The banker asked a migrant named Havji Madhu Bacche to bring the food to his office in Mumbai. Meals were initially delivered by the many migrant workers living in Mumbai, but this changed as home cooks began preparing food for working people. Because of this, the number of dabbawalas steadily increased over 130 years.

The founding principles of the dabbawallas

The system has a moral code intertwined with the bhakti movement, called the Varkari Sampradaya, which treated all peoples as equals. This clashed with traditional Hinduism, which had varnas, where Brahmins were the masters of all the religious rites and were considered the go-betweens in the worshipper-God relationship. In the Varkai sampradaya, no one was superior or inferior; food was supreme as it was considered a common thread connecting humanity. No food was impure. So, serving food was considered an ultimate prayer.

Food is food, period. Since food is supreme, and nothing is impure, beef curry or mutton biryani is treated the same way a sattvic vegetarian meal is treated. This meant there were no religious distinctions; a Muslim’s tiffin was picked up and delivered the same way a Christian’s or an Iyer’s vegetarian meal was handled.

The lineage believes that they are the descendants of the great warrior Chatttrapati Shivaji, and the dabbawalla’s ancestors were foot soldiers of the great Maratha. Since there was no need for soldiers, they chose a profession aligned with their beliefs. “Our families believe that providing food is punya, a worthy action that brings religious virtue: work is worship. Serving food is considered a worthy action,” says Raghunath Medge, the President of the Mumbai Tiffenmen’s Association.

The dabbawallahs operate as a cooperative. This means there is no boss or subordinate. All are equal partners, including the supervisors who are called mukadams, who are elected. So there is no ‘yes sir, no sir’ culture. All are equal.

The operation

Every dabba is delivered to the client’s office on a handcart right before lunchtime. The dabbawala who initially picks up the lunch is not likely to be the one to deliver it. After being sorted, the lunches are loaded onto a train and distributed to different parts of Mumbai. Six days a week, dabbawalas ferry upwards of 130,000 lunch boxes from customers’ homes to their offices with remarkable accuracy: they navigate a congested city on trains, bikes, and autos, with no help from technology and not a mobile phone either. So Mr. Venkateswaran Iyer gets his rice, sambar, curds, and pickles while Mr. Verghese Puttemeparayil gets his parottas and beef fry while Mr. Mustafa Moideen gets his……..you get the general drift by now, right?

The way the codes work

Since the pick-up person and the delivery dabbawallah are different, how does the right dabba reach the right person? Here is where the hieroglyphs on the dabba begin to make sense.

There are four codes that are color coded on every dabba. There are other codes to narrow the delivery point further. So, in general, each letter in the color shows,
(1) the collection points,
(2) the starting station,
(3) the number for the destination station and
(4) markings for the destination – building and floor.

The codes of the dabbawalla

Let’s understand a similar code S 11 30 J 2.

So, to you and me, this is gibberish, just like music notation is to a layman. But to a dabbawalla, it is a complete address, like latitude-longitude is to a pilot or sailor. By the way, the pilot/sailor uses a GPS while the dabbawallah still relies on the codes. So blah to you, ye four stripers.

S – means Mira Road station – the point of entry in the train
11 – is Churchgate Station – the point where the dabba gets out of the train network
30 – Colaba area
J – a specific office building in the Colaba area, in this case, the Raheja Building
2 – second floor of the building

So effective is the dabbas delivery system that the President of Mumbai’s Tiffin Men’s Society claims that the dabbawallas only commit an error once every six lakh delivery. This amounts to roughly one missing delivery every two months. This is the estimate by Ragunath Medge, president of Mumbai Tiffinmen’s Association, and is not based on any scientific study.

Internationally well known

The dabbawallahs’ delivery system has become so well-known and fascinating that it has captured people’s attention worldwide. The 5,000-person cooperative is widely regarded as one of the most effective logistics networks in the world, despite its reliance on an unskilled workforce, a two-tier management system, and no technology more advanced than Mumbai’s train network. They bring in some extra cash by hosting high-ranking officials from shipping companies like FedEx and Amazon. Richard Branson, of all people, has invested a day in uncovering their techniques.

Their connection with the Royals of England

The first time Prince Charles of Wales visited India in 2003, he wanted to meet the dabbawalas, but the dabbawalas insisted on two things. They can’t inconvenience Mumbai’s two hundred thousand maharajas (customers) to meet the prince, now King, so they will meet with Prince Charles in their spare time after serving tiffin instead. Second, Prince Charles must personally meet with them. Prince Charles agreed to both terms.

The two office-bearers of the Mumbai Dabbawalla Organization, Raghunath Medge and Sopan Mare were subsequently extended invitations to the April 2005 wedding of Prince Charles and Camilla Parker. They both went to this wedding. 

They presented Prince Charles and Camilla with a sari and kurta. 

On the occasion of Prince Harry and Meghan Markle’s wedding in 2018, the dabbawalas presented a hand-woven Paithani sari, a specialty of the Indian state of Maharashtra’s Paithan region. Meghan Markle received an orange and green sari, while Prince Harry received an orange kurta, lehenga, and Maharashtrian turban.

The dabbawalas mourned the death of Queen Elizabeth II.

The present-day competition to the dabbawallas

The modern-day Uber Eats, the Deliveroos, the Swiggys, and the Runnrs of the world are being given a run for their money by the dabbawallas. Sorry for the pun; Runnr, run for the money. I just had to do it. “There’s no competition. They won’t be able to keep up with the service we provide,” says Kiran Gavande, a Lower Parel dabbawalla. “There’s only one Mumbai dabbawala.”

Now, what is the moral of the story?

-You don’t need a skilled force to make your operation a success
-You need to believe that what you do is a service to humanity and God
-You do not need a multi-tier corporate setup. Just a lateral format works
-All employees are equal. If one person slips up, the entire network is down.

Quiz answers

Like any good music, the dabbawallahs operate in harmony
Like you can predict the next beat, the dabbawallahs deliver your tiffin box on time, every time.

Jai Sri Vitthala!

“Mumbai Dabbawala or Tiffin Wallahs: 200,000 Tiffin Boxes Delivered Per Day” by babasteve is licensed under CC BY-NC 2.0.

“Dabba Markings I” by Meanest Indian is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0.

Cited Sources

#mumbais food     #lunchbox delivery     #food vendors     #food delivery     #mumbais dabbawalas     #dabbawalas sort     #dabbawalas feel     #clients lunch     #dabbas delivery     #professional food     #mumbai tiffinmens     #lunch boxes     #mumbai dabbawallahs     #lakh deliveries     #lunch hours     

He came, he saw, he composed an unforgettable tune, and he left

For those of you who prefer to listen than read

The song Janaki Jaane, from the 1988 Malayalam movie, Dhwani, was composed and written by two gentlemen of Muslim faith, sung by a Christian, and is about Lord Rama. The lyrics are so endearing and beautifully written in Sanskrit, and it goes like this:

During our suffering, you are our only friend,
Only you can end our fear
To cross to the ocean of samsara, you are the only boat
O Lord Rama, the one who Sita knows so well

Unfortunately, so much is lost in translation.

Now take a trip back to 1936. A Jewish refugee composer, a Parsee violinist, composed a tune in the raga Shivaranjini, played every day at dawn in India and probably in the house of overseas Indians and Indophiles.

1988: The song Jaanaki Jaani was composed by Naushad, written by Yusuf Ali Kecheri, and sung by Yesudas. These men have achieved so much greatness that there is no title like Shri. or Mr. that will do them justice, so I have just referred to them with their names.

1936: This tune was composed by Walter Kaufmann, a Jew, and played by violinist Mehli Mehta a Parsi, for a radio station first founded by Professor M V Gopalaswamy, who taught Psychology at Mysore University. Some of you must have guessed it by now. It is the signature tune of All India Radio.

Mehli Mehta, incidentally, is the father of composer-conductor Zubin Mehta.

Almost eight decades have passed since the composition of this piece is based on the raga Shivaranjini. However, the lilting violin notes played over a tambura still manage to evoke a sense of longing. The signature tune was followed immediately by Vande Mataram.

There is doubt if he created this melody solely as a signature tune for AIR or was it was part of a symphony he composed. Whatever that may be, the bottom line: the music is Kaufmann’s, and Mehli Mehta played the violin. No doubts about that.

For the very few who have not heard this signature tune

Kaufmann’s early days

From 1927 to 1933, Walter Kaufmann led opera productions in Berlin, Karlsbad, and Eger, Bohemia, during the summer months. The German University in Prague accepted Kaufmann’s dissertation on Gustav Mahler in 1934. Still, he declined to accept the doctorate after learning that his supervisor, Prof. Gustav Becking, was the leader of the local Nazi youth group. So carrying a letter declining the award of a doctoral degree, he went to the post office and then to a travel agent.

“I carried this letter to the post office, went to the biggest travel agent and bought myself a ticket to Bombay with the money I had received for the operetta (which he had composed),” Kaufmann recalled in his autobiography, which was based on memoirs recorded in 1934 but written up in the 1970s when he was a Professor of Musicology at Indiana University, Bloomington.

He arrives in Bombay

Boarding the Conte Verde in Venice, he arrived in Bombay, where he stayed with a friend until he could secure more permanent housing. His first wife, Gerty Herrmann, a French instructor and niece of Franz Kafka, joined him shortly.

It is reported that someone asked him why Bombay? He replied it was the easiest place to get a visa!

After arriving in Bombay, his first exposure to Indian music took him by surprise. He soon realized that Indian music would take some time to learn, so he decided to sell his return ticket to fund his stay. Regardless, he could not return to Europe while fascism was in power, so he remained in India for another 12 years until the end of World War II. India ended up saving both his and his wife’s lives. They had a daughter whom they named Katherina.

Kaufmann adapted to Indian culture in a way few of his fellow ex-pats could. A low salary and a position as director of European music at All India Radio (AIR) in Bombay awaited him in 1935. From 1937 to 1946, Walter Kaufmann lived in India and served as AIR’s music director.

When the All-India Radio station first went on air in 1939, he wrote an opera called “Anasuya” to celebrate the occasion. Although it had a European theme, the story was set in a fantastical Maratha kingdom.

Several people, including Mehli Mehta, under his leadership, founded the Bombay Chamber Music Society and established the Bombay Chamber Music Society, which performed every Thursday. Kaufmann taught piano in Bombay; he was Zubin Mehta’s teacher.

His stint in Bollywood

Kaufmann had a stint in Bollywood as well. Together with Mohan Bhavani, Kaufmann collaborated on films for Bhavnani Films and Information Films of India. To know more, please click here.

His works include operas, symphony orchestra pieces, ballet scores, chamber music compositions, and film scores. Among his works are ten string quartets, three piano trios, an Indian piano concerto, six Indian miniatures, and the Navaratnam.

His notable works include Musical Notations of the Orient: Notational Systems of Continental, East, South, and Central Asia and The Ragas of North India, and The Ragas of South India: A Catalogue of Scalar Material.

While the Western world has largely forgotten the Czech Jewish composer, his music is still widely prevalent in India. This concert is anchored by Kaufmann’s extraordinary life and the rediscovery of his concert works.

His archives

His works are archived in the Moldenhauer Archives in Spokane, Washington; the Houghton Library at Harvard University; and the Kaufmann Archive in the William & Gayle Cook Library for Music at Indiana University. According to an essay by Agatha Schindler, the Bombay Chamber Music Society performed several of his pieces from this period, including the Navaratnam, Ten String Quartets, Three Piano Trio, Indian Piano Concerto, Six Indian Miniatures, and Indian Concerto.

Friends in high places

Despite his many scholarly publications, and friendships with prominent thinkers like Albert Einstein, Franz Kafka, and Max Brod, Kaufmann is often overlooked when discussing the history of Indian Jewry or European Jews in India.

Albert Einstein’s letter to Walter Kaufmann – Source

Synagogue President in New Delhi and Bene Israel Indian Jew Ezra Kolet founded the Delhi Philharmonic. The New Delhi Philharmonic Orchestra played a previously unheard piece by Walter Kaufmann in 1995 at a symposium on Jewish exiles in India hosted by Dr. Georg Lechner of the Max Mueller Bhavan. From all accounts, Kaufmann spent a few months in Madras, India, taking in the local culture and music. The music by Kaufmann was exotic and layered.

Walter Kaufmann died in 1984, but his signature tune is still played every morning.

Sources:

https://www.thehindu.com/society/radio-reminiscences-the-golden-years/article34840785.ece
https://www.thehindubusinessline.com/catalyst/tuning-into-broadcast-history/article7765864.ece
https://www.asianjewishlife.org/pages/articles/AJL_Issue17_Winter2016/AJL_Issue17_The-Walter-Kaufmann-Story.html
https://thejewsofindia.com/remembering-the-jewish-refugee-who-composed-the-all-india-radio-signature-tune/
https://runtheyear2016.com/2019/08/19/who-is-the-composer-of-all-india-radio-tune/ 4
https://newsonair.gov.in/News?title=Walter-Kaufmann%2C-who-worked-as-Director-of-music-at-AIR%2C-Bombay-from-1937-to-1946%2C-composed-Akashwani%26%2339%3Bs-signature-tune&id=428199
https://holocaustmusic.ort.org/resistance-and-exile/walter-kaufmann/
https://www.thebetterindia.com/169757/all-india-radio-tune-composer-archive-history-kaufmann/
http://www.e-pao.net/epSubPageSelector.asp?src=The_Jewish_connection_to_AIR_Tune_By_Kamal_Baruah&ch=leisure&sub1=EI
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Walter_Kaufmann_(composer)
https://maddy06.blogspot.com/2008/02/air-signature-tune.html
https://www.sweatlodgeradio.com/who-composed-the-all-india-radio-signature-tune/
https://qz.com/india/287319/remembering-the-jewish-refugee-who-composed-the-all-india-radio-caller-tune/
https://schoolofmusic.ucla.edu/event/from-india-to-indiana/

Chris Perry – arranger and the re-inventor of Konkani pop

Chris Perry – image courtesy Alchetron

Chris Perry was born in Borda in 1928 as Kristovam Pereira, the second of eight children born to Agostinho and Espiciosa Pereira.

Goa, the smallest Indian state, located on the Arabian Sea in southwestern India and was a Portuguese territory from 1510 until 1961. While Konkani is the official language, most Goans were taught in Portuguese before 1961. Many Goans are Catholic, speak Portuguese, and hold Portuguese family names. Goa was India’s most Westernized region during Portuguese colonization and 19th-century inflows of British and other Westerners. It is a home of Western music, with Goa being the home to most Indian jazz musicians.

Perry was raised in a musical family and began performing on the tiatr (musical theatre) stage at a young age, playing the role of Bab Pinto. He began to produce his own Tiatr plays and is known for the plays Noxibantlo Nhovro, Padricho Lob, and Vid Mog Kornaranchem in the region.

He became an accomplished musician, especially in the trumpet and the saxophone. He was known for perfect timbre (absolute pitch) and his ability to change between the trumpet and the saxophone mid-song. He was also a prolific singer-songwriter, having written several hits during his era.

Perry infused jazziness in the traditionally Goan music while Anthony Gonsalves, another arranger and violinist, helped introduce Western sounds to Bollywood.

Chris started working in the Bombay movie industry as a violinist during the 1940s, becoming one of Bombay films’ most important arrangers of music. He performed in many Hindi films, notably Kabhi Kabhi and Trishul.

One of the more recognized acts from the 1970s scene was trumpeter Chris Perry and singer Lorna Cordeiro, the resident artists at the Venice club in Central Bombay. Chic Chocolat, the trumpeter, became a fixture in downtown Bombays Taj Mahal hotel, (click on link to listen) working with Chris Perry, the genius who had re-invented Konkani popular music. (click to listen) If you read my article on Chic Chocolate, that is the same Chris Perry I am referring to. Perry moved between Bombay and Kolkata (now Kolkata) in the late 50s and had his own band, The Chris Perry Band.

Chic Chocolate – Taj Mahal Foxtrot

Perry had to engage in an accepted practice of finding gigs, even after making a name for himself. Goan musicians met at Alfreds, a Kolkata restaurant, every morning. Perry, Tony Cyril, Dennis Vazo, Johnny Rodriges, Johnny Baptista, and Mike Machado had tables. Anyone planning a nighttime event would “book” musicians, for example, “one trumpet, and one piano”. . Each musician was paid Rs. 15, and Rs.18 if he wore white jackets and black trousers.

Bombay was a very cosmopolitan city by the late fifties, and people came from around the world. Everything was becoming Westernized, with Western influences flooding, especially fashion and music. The best restaurants served Western food and had dance floors featuring Jazz bands. La Bella, located in the Bombays Fort area, was at the top of the list of such restaurants.

Image courtesy: Alchetron

Everybody was there, and every night was packed. Reporters kept away from the doors as alcohol was still tightly banned and obviously nobody wanted the goings-on to be reported in the Press. However, Chris Perry was known to get his feet into Bombay’s doors at La Bella, and since Goa was still under Portuguese rules, he had to get a special visa to perform there. Perry and his band were a regular act in the 1960s at the Venetian, the elaborate disco in Astoria hotel in Bombay. The Astoria was located on Churchgate Street, the city’s musical and entertainment district and Venice were known as the “jazz man’s jazz club,” drawing musicians from across India. In 1958, Dave Brubeck performed there, as did Duke Ellington in 1963.

Perry was considered to be brilliant, a perfectionist, and was obsessed about his musicality. His drummer, Diogo DeSouza, said, “Anyone who joined his band ended up honing their craft The group began touring, stopping in Delhi, Mussoorie, Shimla, and Ooty before settling in Bombay..”

He would carefully write out the arrangement for each player, expecting them to play exactly as he had written. Even if one note was misplayed on any instrument, he could detect it from afar. According to DeSousa, Perry once gave a black eye to one of the band members for not playing a note correctly. Since this happened on the performance day, he brought the musician an ice pack and gave the rest of the band dark glasses. This became a trend setter and since then, the band always wore dark glasses for night performances!

Perry saw 16-year-old singer Lorna Cordeiro performing “Underneath the Mango Tree” at the Bandra fair, Bombay, in 1960. Cordeiro, also from Goa, was brought to Bombay by musician Raymond Albuquerque after winning the Connie Francis Sound-Alike Contest while she was still at school. He offered her a place in his band, as she was outstanding and had received an excellent reaction from the crowd. She agreed, and Perry became her mentor.

Perry worked with her for six months before introducing her to audiences, teaching her to dress, move onstage, and use the mic. She made her debut at The Lido at Calcuttas elegant Firpos restaurant, singing an arrangement of Ella Fitzgerald’s “Cry Me a River.” Cordeiro was signed by His Master’s Voice company (HMV), which initially refused to let him record in Konkani. Perry fought on her behalf, and HMV relented. Cardeiros’s career took off following the album’s release. She became known as just Lorna and became a household name across India.

Perry’s songs were memorable, thumping, romantic, and blended Goan folk and jazz elements. These songs were immediate hits, getting lots of airplay thanks to their romances. Audiences were drawn to Lorna and the apparent chemistry between her and Perry.

Nachom-ia Kumpasar ( Let’s Dance to the Rhythm), a musical strung together with 20 of her songs composed by her music mentor, Chris Perry, in the Sixties and Seventies show cases their relationship both musically and socially.

Despite Perry being a Catholic man married with three children and the difference in their age, the two began an extremely public, non-marital affair. Offstage, Perry was jealous of Lorna and would hit any man that spoke to her. Their dalliance ended in 1973, with Perry returning to his wife and family.

The rumor was that he forced Cordeiro to sign a contract that she could not perform on stage with any other band. Perry was said to have used physical force to enforce that contract. However, Chris Perry’s son, Glenn Perry, challenged this. Perry claims in his lawsuit that Lorna and Monserrate worked together to bring up several allegations against his late father, including that Chris Perry had made a 20-year deal prohibiting Lorna from singing.

“Lorna was simply the singer that sang Chris Perry’s songs. She did not compose, write lyrics, or perform the music. She was an absolute newcomer to the musical world. Chris Perry molded her to become a great singer through teaching and mentoring her, just as a flower would blossom from a bud.

Glenn claimed her father had chronic Parkinson’s and was not able to speak out during the years leading up to his 2002 death. Glenn said: “I am 100% committed to telling the truth. To fight against that stigma, I am going to do what is necessary to reclaim the good name of my dad,” said Glenn Perry, adding that he has confidence in the legal system and that the truth will eventually prevail.

Despite being a megastar, Cordeiro was forced out of the music business. She never married and became a recluse and an alcoholic. She made a successful comeback in 1995.

A street in Margao was named after legendary singer Chris Perry at Goa’s Heritage Festival as a gesture of respect for his contributions to Konkani music and the film industry. Perry supported other musicians’ careers, with her songs being covered by Mohammed Rafi, Asha Bhonsle, Usha Uthup, Adolph Fernandes, Seby Fernandes, Hema Sardesai, Lulu Fortes, K. Alvares, Ophelia, Mohana, M. Boyer, and H. Britton.

Chris Perry died on 25 January 2002, following complications of Parkinson’s disease.

M.B. Sreenivasan – a music director par excellence

Movie: Paadhai Theriyudhu Paar – Music M B Sreenivasan – Lyrics Jayakanthan – Singers P B Srinivas & S Janaki. Flute – Maali

paadhai theriyudhu paar – i can see the path!

One of P B Srinivas’s and S. Janaki’s best songs, “Maali,” plays the flute (T R Mahalingam). The sound of the flute evokes the call of the cuckoo and the chirping of sparrows. Listening to the song, one feels and sways to the thendral or southern breeze. 

Even after so many years, this song is so hauntingly beautiful. Imagine getting the legend Mali to play the flute for a movie song! Even in that simple phrase, the flute sounds heavenly.

M B Sreenivasan, the legend, who is still not recognized for the depth and breath of his musicality.

Another lovely song in the same movie is “Chinna Chinna Mookuthi” sung by TMS.

“Oru vattom koodi en ormakal meyunna…” is a song that any Malayalee with musical taste will recognize. Many of us are aware that ONV’s poem inspired it. However, few people remember the composer of this piece, M.B. Srinivasan. This is because MBS was a private person who let his work speak for itself and did not interact with the media. 

Dr. K.J. Yesudas

Did you know MBS introduced Yesudas?

MBS made a significant contribution to film music by introducing Yesudas, who became a pillar of Malayalam film music. MBS gave Yesudas his first solo song, “Jaathibhedam Mathadvesham,” in “Kalpadukal” (1961), as well as his first duet with Shanta P Nair a famous artist then, in the same film. , In a function to honor Shanta P. Nair, Yesudas said that on hearing that she was to sing with a newcomer, she said, “Aa kutti paadikote, athine enda,” meaning, let the kid sing, it’s OK. 

MBS collaborated with all the great singers of the time. S Janaki won a national award for her song “Ettumanoorambalathil…” MBS was once again the man who gave P Jayachandran his memorable award-winning song “Ragam Sree Ragam…” He wrote the lyrics for Usha Uthup’s movie hit “Peethambara O Krishna.” 

Birth and childhood 

Manamadurai Balakrishnan Srinivasan was born in 1925 to a wealthy family in Chittoor, Andhra Pradesh. Even though neither of his parents was a professional musician, he was exposed to music at a young age. He attended P.S. High School and Madras Presidency College for his secondary and higher education, respectively. During his college years, he was drawn to Marxist principles and became a full-time member of the Communist Party. He was appointed Secretary General of the All-India Student Federation. He also belonged to the Madras Students Organization (MSO). While in college, he was involved in and led numerous anti-colonial agitations. This led him to establish the Madras Youth Choir, which I will discuss later. At the time, Bharatiyar’s songs instilled patriotic fervor, and the freedom struggle was nearing its conclusion.

Meanwhile, MBS, the nephew of CPI leader M.R. Venkatraman, moved to Delhi to work as a private secretary to CPI leader A.K. Gopalan. He was drawn to the Indian Peoples Theatre Association (IPTA). This association assisted him in becoming acquainted with regional strains of plays and music in various parts of the country. 

Later, he met, fell in love with, and later married Zahida Kitchlew, a Kashmiri Muslim and the daughter of freedom fighter Dr. Saifuddin Kitchlew. Pt. Jawaharlal Nehru married them.  The couple had a son whom the named Kabir.

Film Music 

MBS studied Carnatic, Hindustani, and Western music in the meantime. In 1959, he decided to make a career out of music. 

He worked in the Tamil film industry with director Nimai Ghosh. Both were key figures in the leftist Kumari Films. He only appeared in about 8-9 films in the Tamil film industry. His political beliefs hampered his career in the Tamil industry, so he turned to Malayalam films. 

MBS’s most well-known compositions are in the Malayalam film industry. Adoor Gopalakrishnan, MT Vasudevan Nair, Hariharan, K.G. George, Mohan, Lenin Rajendran, and others came to MBS to set music for their films. The ONV-MBS combination produced some of Malayalam film music’s best songs. “Oru vattam…”, “Nirangal than…”, “Manthram pole…”, “Bharatha muniyoru…”, “Ente kadinjool…”, and so on. MBS and ONV’s communist sympathies, combined with their mutual respect, resulted in rare chemistry that gave birth to unforgettable songs. 

The ability to be versatile and retain identity

The challenge for any music director is having an identity while being versatile. MBS songs are easily identifiable. He was also versatile enough to provide songs in a variety of styles. Semi-classical (“Ragam Sree Raagam..”), Melody (“Thenankeetru Oonjaliley…”, “Saradindu..”), Western/Pop (“Peethambara..”), or Folk (“Neelakkuda choodi..”, “Machane..”). Although he was not Malayalee, he composed the tune only after the lyrics were written. He deeply respected poets and their works, and his music never distorted or overpowered the vocals. His songs were always challenging, so they didn’t become as popular as songs by other music directors. 

Expert in re-recording – background scoring

MBS saw film music as more than just songs. He was an expert at re-recording. He knew exactly where to use and which musical instrument to highlight or underline a scene. He demonstrated how a background score could add meaning to a film through the careful use of tools. He even composed scores for films in which other composers wrote the songs. He demonstrated that silence could be used effectively as music by sparing with BGM. Some of his films had no vocals at all. 

Activism – Madras cine musicians union

He founded the Madras Cine Musicians’ Union and several South Indian Cine Technicians’ Unions. He ensured that musicians were paid on time (spot payment), and their wages were determined based on their skill and experience. He also assisted in regularizing their working hours. While he worked to improve workers’ security and status, he also reminded them of their role in completing the work. He believed in responsible union activity. 

Indian Performing Rights Society

MBS spearheaded the fight to ensure song composers and poets’ performance rights through the Indian Performing Rights Society (IPRS). The result of a European concept is that whenever a song is played on radio and television or in hotel lobbies and public places, the composer and poet receive a royalty payment. This has ensured a reasonably good source of income for people who had many hits in their prime but were no longer active. He served as Chairman of IPRS until his death. 

MBS as an actor

MBS played the lead role of an eccentric professor in John Abraham’s “Agraharathil kazhuthai.” This film became one of the most well-known and perhaps controversial films in Indian cinema history. MBS, being a multi-talented individual, jumped right into the role and excelled. 

Censor board

He worked for the Central Censor Board for a short time. He also served as an adjudicator for numerous national and international music competitions. He was a member of the Sangeet Natak Academy and other cultural organizations. 

Death 

On March 9, 1988, M.B. Srinivasan died of a heart attack in Kedamath, a small village in the Lakshadweep islands. His son Kabir and wife Zaheeda survived him. Kabir, his son, a schizophrenic, passed away on April 4, 2009, and Zaheeda died on October 23, 2002. 

Elis R. Dungan, the man who introduced MGR to Tamil films

Birth
Elis R. Dungan, or Dungan Ayya, as he was popularly known, was born on May 11, 1909, in Barton, Ohio, U.S.

In the early 1930s, foreigners were addressed as ‘master’ while Dungan was called Dungan Ayya, a more endearing term than ‘master.’ His first forays into photography came about when he bought a box camera to take pictures for his school yearbook. That was his first brush with photography.

Early days
Later, after having saved up enough money working in a gas station, Dungan traveled to Spain and bicycled through most of Spain. He later ended up in Paris, France, where he got a job in the American Library. Duncan’s interest in photography grew during his two years at the Library, and he began doing exhibitions. The library director asked Duncan to take his photography seriously and said he would sponsor him for a university course. That’s how Duncan returned to America. He enrolled at the University of Southern California in cinematography.

Serendipitous meeting
There he met with M. L. Tandon, serendipitously, the son of a wealthy film producer who invited him to visit India. Tandon wanted Dungan to direct Indian movies and raise them to the level of the existing Hollywood productions for viewers in India and the world. It was to be a six-month trial run. Manik Lal Tandon directed the 1935 Tamil film Bhakta Nandanar (transl. Devotee Nandanar) with K. B. Sundarambal, a Carnatic singer and stage artist, and made his film debut. 

This was also Ellis R. Dungan’s first film. There is no known print of the film, making it a lost film.

In a later interview, Duncan remarked that the six-month stint ended as a fifteen-year journey with the Indian movie industry.

Indian cinema in the 1930s
In the 1930s, the Indian film industry was at a nascent stage. Drama troupes were made to stage their plays in a studio. Nothing had to be done. The actors knew their dialogues, and everyone knew their part. A static camera was placed, and the stage was adequately lit up. This meant boring long shots, and most films had a theatrical feel with the actors exaggerating their emotions and delivering their dialogs at the top of their voices.

Changes to Indian Cinema
Dungan changed all that. He said that he had a tough time sobering down the actors of those days and getting them to deliver the dialogs in a normal tone. Most actors in those days were chosen more for their singing talent than their acting prowess.

Dungan struggled to get the actors to emote naturally during the close-up shots.

Dungan was also credited with using mid-range and close-up shots of the scene instead of a long static shot. He introduced a lot of Hollywood technics in his Tamil films, despite technical limitations at that time.

Around the same time, Himanshu Roy’s Bombay Talkies had hired a German crew led by Franz Osteen. Franz worked from 1935 until 1939 and directed the film Achuth Kanya, which starred Devika Rani and Ashok Kumar and was a super hit.

Ellis R. Dungan popularized contemporary makeup, the moving camera, and cabaret dance numbers for Tamil Cinema and moved Tamil cinema away from stage plays’ influence. Dungan, who trained in Hollywood, introduced some crucial techniques to the industry at its infancy in each department, which would have a unique place in its history.

Dungan also introduced the track and trolley to Indian cinema. In fact for a long time, it was called the Dungan track-and-trolley!

Popular films of Ellis Dungan
Dungan mainly worked on religious and historical films during the earliest days of Tamil filmmaking; the movie is talked about because it has daring close-up scenes. It was with Iru Sagodarargal (1936) that Dungan emerged as the leading filmmaker of the newly developing Tamil film industry. The film was shot in Bombay in the Saroj Filmtone studio. It was pivotal to establish a more polished film language for Tamil films, mainly merely photographed dramas and little else. Iru Sagodarargal (1936) is one of Dungan’s best-known films and one of his favorite. In a language and culture that he knew nothing about and was unfamiliar with Tamil. He hired translators, known as rush directors, who were fluent in English and Tamil.

Although born as an Irish American, Dungan made highly appreciated devotional and historical films like;

  1. Sathileelavathi (1936),
  2. Iru Sahotharargal (1936),
  3. Ambikapathi (1937),
  4. Sakunthalai (1940),
  5. Meera (1945),
  6. Ponmudi (1950) and
  7. Manthirikumari (1950)

The film Ambikapthi, starring the then superstar, M.K. Thiagaraja Bhagavathar, had the famous kissing scene with M.R. Santhalakshmi. It is said many returned to see the kissing scene repeatedly! Many at that time felt that M.K.T. did not know how to act. However, the same film was remade in 1957 with Shivaji Ganesan, one of India’s finest, in the lead. Many felt the earlier Ambikapathi was much better. Dungan’s Ambikapathy was filmed based on a Romeo and Juliet style, including the balcony scene, which resembled a Hollywood production.

Meera, starring M. S. Subbalakshmi Meera is a 1945 Indian Tamil-language musical drama film directed by Ellis R. Dungan and written by Kalki Krishnamurthy. 

The film, based on the life of the 16th century mystic and poet Mirabai, stars M. S. Subbulakshmi as the title character, a zealous devotee of Krishna who considers him to be her husband. 

Despite marrying Rana (Chittoor Nagaiah), she lives her own life, which her husband and family find unacceptable. 

Sadasivam wanted to make a film that would make his singer wife Subbulakshmi’s music accessible to the general public, so he began looking for a good story; Subbulakshmi chose Meera’s story. 

To maintain credibility and historical accuracy, the film was primarily shot on location in North India, including Jaipur, Vrindavan, Udaipur, Chittor, and Dwarka, at Newtone Studio in Madras. 

Meera was released on November 3, 1945, Diwali day, and quickly became a critical and commercial success. 

This prompted the production of a Hindi-dubbed version, with a few scenes reshot, which was released two years later on November 21, and was also a success. 

Despite the fact that the Hindi version made Subbulakshmi a national celebrity, it was her final film as an actress, after which she decided to concentrate solely on her musical career.

Introduction of M.G. Ramachandran
Ellis Roderick Dungan made his directorial debut with Sathi Lilavathi, the first film of the future Tamil Nadu chief minister, M.G. Ramachandran. Dungan had no Indian language skills, an issue that never affected his career as a filmmaker in Indian languages, mainly Tamil.

Dungan directed some renowned Tamil movie actors in his director role, including M. G. Ramachandran in Sathi Lilavathi, T. S. Balaiya, Kali N. Ratnam, and N. S. Krishnan. He was acknowledged for introducing various new techniques in Indian cinema.

Role in the Second World War
During the Second World War, the American Cinematographer made A Short-Return Soldier (1945), a Tamil movie starring T. S. Balaiah, to support the war effort.

From 1941-1945, the United States entered the Second World War. Dungan served as an official photographer for the Madras Government and made wartime newsreels, propaganda films, and a handful of documentaries for The Indian News Parade.

He also filmed the final journey of Mahatma Gandhi.

Return to the USA
Ellis R Dungan returned to the States. Before his final Tamil film, Manthiri Kumari was completed. His wife, Elaine Dungan, who was not an Indophile, didn’t share his passion for making movies and wanted to return to America. So, she gave him an ultimatum, which I am guessing went something like this: either me or the film. So, like any good husband, he dropped his project and returned to the States. T R Sundaram, the studio owner, completed the film. Thus, his last film in Tamil was Manthiri Kumari in 1950. Karunanidhi was the scriptwriter for this film, and much alliteration and social ideology were heavily promoted in the film’s dialogues.

Interestingly, Karunanidhi wanted M.G.R. to be the lead. Still, Dungan felt M.G.R. was not photogenic enough for the role because M.G.R had a cleft in his chin. Ultimately a compromise was reached, and in Mandiri Kumari, M.G.R is seen sporting a small goatee to hide the notch in his chin!

Projects in America
In America, he formed Ellis Dungan Productions, which made documentaries, industrial films, and similar films for almost two decades, starting in 1963.

An American in Madras, a documentary film by U. S. based filmmaker Karan Bali, examines Ellis R. Dungan’s contributions to the art of cinematography and his later years as a director of documentary films. The hour-long documentary on Dungan was made in 2013 using information from West Virginia state archives and interviews with people who knew Dungan.

Ellis R. Dungan, the man credited for launching M.G. Ramachandran into Tamil filmmaking with his 1936 movie Sathi Lilavati, passed away in Wheeling, West Virginia, in 1958. He was paid Rs 100 to make his movie Sathi Lilavati.

“Of all the Tamil stage-movie films that I directed in India, my Meera is considered my best film by my peers and the critics in the field,” said Dungan.

I am inclined to agree.

Is the modern-day stand-up inspired by 10th-century Chakiyar Koothu?

Was chakyar koothu the earliest form of stand-up comedy?

The first stage productions of Chakyar Koothu appeared in the tenth and eleventh centuries. It is believed that Kutiyattam, the earliest surviving form of Sanskrit theater, is the ancestor of Chakyar Koothu.

Historically, the koothambalam,  a performance area in a temple built to specifications in the Natyashastra (a detailed manual about dance and allied subjects), was the only venue for Kutiyattam and koothu performances. Painkulam Raman Chakyar (active 1905–1980), a rebel with a cause, was responsible for the first public performance of koothu outside of the koothambalam, which caused widespread outrage and earned him social isolation. He also played a crucial role in adding it to the Kalamandalam ( a premier dance and music school of Kerala) curriculum.

Chakyar koothu accords great importance to the vidushaka (jester/ narrator, very much like the modern stand-up comedian), and his monologues combine prose and poetry. The vidushaka’s commentary is full of biting sarcasm and witty asides. Although the choreography is light, he makes his point clearly through his facial expressions. He makes the act more contemporary and inclusive by getting responses from the audience, making analogies, and commenting on current socio-political events. Minus the profanity and the cussing, doesn’t this describe a stand-up comedy show?

Here is an invitation to witness a chakiyar koothu by a modern-day artist.

The artist begins with a Sanskrit verse and invites people to watch him perform in Malayalam as spoken by the Namboothiris and Chakyars!

Typically, the vidushaka or the performer would first offer his prayers to the presiding deity. He then chants a shloka or verse in Sanskrit, which is an outline of the theme he is going to perform. The verse is then translated into the local language for everyone to understand. Although a central theme is specific to the performance, nothing stops him from dragging various contemporary subjects like politics into it. He is accompanied by the mizhi, a large copper vessel with it’s mouth covered by a taut skin on which the drummer plays and a pair of large cymbals.

Cymbals
Mizhi, or the copper drum

It is a ritual specific to the Chakyar people (a priestly caste). The performer wears a colorful headdress, has a bushy black mustache, which is deliberately exaggerated, and is covered in sandalwood paste with bright red spots. His very appearance is quite comical.

It is only the male members of the Chakyar who perform the koothu.  Not to be outdone, there is also a female version called Nangyar Koothu, which is by the Nambiar community of Kerala.

So, it would be safe to say that modern-day stand-up shows originated in Kerala in the tenth century. 

The costume of the modern clown is very similar in color combination to the performer of the koothu.

The modern clown
The performer dressed as described in 10th century texts

What say you? Write to me if you don’t agree!

Photo credits

“koothu” by Paul Varuni is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

“mizhav” by Arayil is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

“File:Vidushaka-Mani Madhava Chakyar.jpg” by Sreekanth Vis licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0.

“Bring on the clowns” by markleepower is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0.

Suyash Dwivedi, CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0, via Wikimedia Commons

Sources

https://prepp.in/news/e-492-chakyar-koothu-indian-folk-dance-art-and-culture-notes

https://www.thehindu.com/entertainment/dance/the-necessary-nuances-of-chakyar-koothu/article26078823.ece

A man on a bicycle help record some all-time popular film songs?

Himanshu Rai’s The Bombay Talkies Ltd logo – Wikipedia
If you prefer the audio version!

If I asked you what the most critical instrument necessary for recording a song was, you would probably say violins. Some would say the tabla, while others might say it is the baton of the conductor and so on. I say it was the bicycle. Want to know why? Read on!

Indian films almost always have songs; some have five or more. Here is how the song is made, from the words of an insider!

A song is born

A prominent arranger Dattaram Wadkar, who is known for his association with Shanker-Jaikishan for over four decades, summed it up like this:

The song is composed on day one. This means the basic tune is composed. It is then handed over to the arranger, who adds all the song’s embellishments and interludes. The musicians are then called in and given their parts, and two or three rehearsals are done. The song is then recorded.

Until recently, recording meant a live performance by the entire ensemble, including the singer. If a mistake happens, then the whole recording must be done again.

If you want to know who Dattaram was, listen to tabla in the songs of Shri 420; Mud mud ke na dekh and Ramayyaa vastaavayyaa and Chori Chori: Aaja sanam madhur chandni mein hum.

Apart from the tabla, Dattaram also played the duff; Dil ka haal sune dilwala and Mera naam raju gharana annam in Shri 420 and Jis Desh Mein Ganga Bahti Hai.

The duff can be heard clearly. Dattaram Wadkar played this

He later became a percussion arranger for Shanker-Jaikishan. His colleague and fellow Goan, Sebastian D’Souza, would arrange the rest of the music on Western instruments, like guitar, saxophone, accordion, etc.

Now, all this is easier said than done. Very few music directors had a permanent orchestra. Often, there would be core musicians and the rest freelancers who would one day be playing for S-J, and on another day, Kalyanji-Anandji and so on. Sometimes, the permanent musician would suggest one of his friends for the job, who would then show up for the rehearsal and the recording.

In some cases, acquaintances alone could not fill all the vacant slots. The word had to be spread far and wide to get the required musicians.

Lata, Asha, Manna Dey & Rafi singing a song. Only two mics and no separate mic for the chorus

The Messengers – the man on a bicycle

This gave rise to a need in the system. Those who could muster up the required musicians for a recording session at short notice. They were called messengers. Later, the messengers came to be known as music coordinators bringing about a modicum of respectability, maybe?

In those early days, telephones were not available to everyone. So the messengers would bicycle to the required musician and tell them that they had to report at this studio and, this time, with this instrument! This was because some of the musicians played multiple instruments. If the musician was unavailable, the messenger would cycle down to the next on the list. To the freelancer, this meant keeping the messenger happy by being very respectful.

Most of the messengers traveled the streets of Bombay close to midnight. So. if you heard a knock at your door in the middle of the night, it was probably the messenger bringing you the good news that you had work tomorrow!

In the orchestra, if you were in the first row, you had to be at the top of your game. Messengers had no say here since the music director would know the front row musicians by their names and specifically ask for them. But if you were in the fourth or fifth row, you had to keep the messenger happy, and some would even offer them a commission, a bribe of sorts!

Messengers were an essential part of the development of the cottage industry that was Old Bollywood; without them, no recordings would have been possible. In time, however, they came to play crucial economic roles in the lives of many musicians, as they were often the deciding factor between employment and unemployment.

Cine Music Association

In theory, the music director must inform the CMA (Cine Music Association) of their requirement. The CMA would then allot the number of musicians required based on equal and fair distribution. This would never happen in real life, so the messengers were all-powerful.

The A-R-P trio

Musicians Alfonso Albuquerque, who played cello, Ram Singh saxophone, and Peter Sequeira on violin and guitar, were known collectively by their initials as “A-R-P.” They were a trio, and often others would refer to them as A-R-P. They were among the first and most influential freelance musicians who also were music coordinators.

A-R-P not only provided their musical talents to composing early film scores but also served as orchestral brokers.

They helped recruit and coordinate other musicians’ efforts to fill out the small orchestras of the time. Of course, for a financial reward.

Ram Singh was succeeded by Manohari Singh much later. There was no alto sax used for a long time until Mahohari Singh took his place.

Some of Manohari Singh’s sax can be heard in this song and in the interludes of Mehabooba Mehabooba in the film Sholay.

The advent of the voice booth

Then another thing happened. The microphone of the singer had to be isolated. Either the technicians were striving for better recordings, or the listening public became more discerning. The long and short of it is that this gave rise to the silence booth, as it was called those days.

During the very early days, the singer would be in the same room as the orchestra and so would be able to sing correctly, maintaining pitch and beat.

This changed with the vocal booth. Many singers felt isolated and also went off scale and tempo. On the one hand, there was a clear vocal recording, but what use if it was off pitch and rhythm.

The song violinist

This gave rise to a song violinist. The song violinist would sit along with the rhythm section of the orchestra and play the song exactly as how the singer was supposed to sing. The song violinist would play into a separate microphone and a mixer which would mix the rhythm section and feed the mix to the singer. This helped to keep the singer in the right tempo and scale. Some of the finest violinists who were song violinists were Harishchandra Narvekar, Gajanan Karnad, and Prabhakar Jog. The absolute pity is that they were never heard in the final recording.

The scenario today

Fast forward to today. Anyone with a reasonably good computer, DAW software, and a good mic, can produce music that can rake in the millions. Bille Eilish, the singer-songwriter who won 4 Grammys in 2020, has this setup.

Image: https://www.forevercurrent.com/blog/2020/2/4/inside-billie-eilish-grammy-winning-home-studio

Finneas O’Connell, Billie’s brother’s modest production setup consisted of Apple Logic Pro X, a Universal Audio Apollo 8 interface, and a pair of Yamaha HS5 nearfields with an H8S subwoofer, all of which were housed in a standard bedroom with a bed against one wall, where Eilish sat to record her vocals.

The total cost of the setup is less than $3,000! Rewards, 4 Grammys!

Sources:

https://mehfilmeinmeri.wordpress.com/2018/03/23/songs-picturised-in-a-recording-studio/

Behind the Curtain – Making Music in Mumbai’s Film Studio – Gregory D. Booth