http://www.dlshq.org/download/selfknowledge.htmBrahma created various kinds of creatures such as horses, cows, dogs,
elephants, etc. But he was not perfectly satisfied. Then He created man. This
gave Him entire satisfaction. Because it is man only who can produce Sapta
Svara (sa, ri, ga, ma, pa, dha, ni, sa). He can do Kirtan and realise God through
Sankirtan. The animals produce only one kind of sound or Svara.
http://www.santoor.com/strikingnotes.htmlI have been studying this relationship of music to moods all through my career. In fact, I clearly remember when I was just eight or nine, not old enough to really understand the meaning of romance or pathos, I had an inclination to play raags in komal swaras that expressed precisely these feelings, much to my father's annoyance. He would often rebuke me for pursuing these sad raags. But I couldn't help it. When my father taught me Bhopali, I woul sit practicing Shivranjani; when he asked me to play Shankara or Shudhkalyan, I'd play Madhuwanti or Puriya Dhanashri. Later, as I grew up, I realised that my happy-go-lucky father preferred the happy notes, whereas I the dreamer, identified more with the sad or, rather soft notes.
I have noticed this affinity for particular raags in several people. Their tastes in music reveal their basic temperament. Of course, this subject needs to be developed and researched but, if it is done, I am sure we will find a correlation between personality and musical preferences.
I vividly recall when I was recording at the AIR station in Jammu as a college student. Two ladies happened to be present at the recording. One of them a vocalist, kept nodding her head and saying " Wah!Wah!" to show her appreciation of the music, while the other lady, who was not a musician, had tears in her eyes as she listened to me play raag Todi -- this raag's mood is one of yearning and pathos. This incident made me realize how deeply music can affect our emotions. A musician sometimes may get so inextricably lost in the technicalities of a raag that the mood may miss him but the layperson always reacts instinctively to it.
I often hold recitals at schools and colleges where the majority are uninitiated in the theory of Indian classical music. Here I never tell them the raag I am playing. I only ask for their reactions to the music and they have always been able to identify the mood of the raag. And this reaction is common all over the world because though we may speak a different language and barriers of borders may segregate us , our human emotions still remain the same. That is why the language of music is universal.
The mood of the raag is set by the alaap. It is the most important part of a composition because it creates the structure of the raag. Hindustani classical is not instant music; you cannot switch it on or off. Our music grows gradually. I always compare it to a painting. You cannot throw colours on a canvas and call it a painting; it has to be created slowly, slowly, stroke by stroke. Similarly, when we develop a raag we use the notes in various combinations and permutations and unfold the raag, note by note.
People who are not well versed in music believe that the real composition begins when the tabla joins in. This just shows the significance of the tempo in defining the mood. The beat of the tabla synchronizes with the composition and produces a harmonious blend of melody and rhythm. You cannot create a happy mood if the tempo or laya is slow; if the tempo is not right, tragedy can turn into comedy. Can you imagine the composition Piya milan ki aas being played to a fast beat ? The laya is an important part of the music and crucial in setting the mood.
Musical rendition is meant to manifest before the mind's eye of the listener the scene that floated before the Vaggeyakkara when the words were scripted - nay the words flowed. A neraval or sangati is meant to fix the mind of the listener in that particular mental imagery for some time. That is why the tempo of sangati and neraval is to be built up slowly so that the listener follows the path and reaches the destination and does sanchara there along with the musician - mAnasa vana cara vara sanchAramu salipi mUrti bAguga poDaganE vArendarO mahAnubhAvulu,. If the listener could be made to make that sanchara, I wonder as to how the Vaggeyakkara would have felt then!
In order to lead the listener to that stage, first the heart of the musician should be full. No dancer can render pathos when she is seething with anger inside. The face is the index of mind. The bhAva of the mind is reflected in the face. If the heart is emotionally saturated, the face will reflect that automatically. There is a 'negizhvu' (நெகிழ்வு) in the voice (Sorry, I do not find a suitable English word - 'relaxation' does not suitably describe it). The musician then need not 'control' the 'accompanists' by looking at them at every sangati. They fall in line according to the mood of the musician. What follows is the divine music.
The sapta svara devatas are cursed as inert; they cannot reach the feet of the Lord - Nada Brahmam - where they belong - (nAda tanumaniSam Sankaram) without the help of human vehicle.
sogasugA mRdanga tALamu jata kUrci ninnu sokka cEyu dhIruDevvaDO
The operative word is ninnu - If that Nada Brahma can be enamoured, what to talk of we, mortals?
Can I come out of a musical session with moist eyes and heart brimming with emotions? The search continues.....
PS : This is not addressed to those who feel music is 'secular' and nothing 'divine' about it.
That is a clever way of stroking one's ego. Not that it has no merit - there is indeed truth to it, but I think my taste definitely has more of my prejudices mixed in now than then. So its a mixture of both.