Alappuzhakkaran Kesavan Aangala

This one is a sequel to the previous post. Therefore please read “Celebration In A Ghost House”  so as to get a continuity of the story. In that, I have narrated how Mohan Kurien Sir with his uncanny knack of spinning yarns could fool us so easily. Now the next day morning after Mohan Kurien Sir “complemented” us for our cowardice I was sitting in the lawn with a sense of defeat when I heard some low pitched yet mellifluous unorganised humming notes. “Top of the World”, I said. Christeena or Liby, I don’t  remember  was humming this “Carpenter’s” number. My sense of defeat melted and I was mesmerised by the beauty of the song. Perhaps it appealed to me so much since I was in the unique ambience of Kodai. It resurrected my spirits and my mind again became musical. Christeena promised to sing the song in the company of Liby in the evening, but I could not wait. Before the tour party started off for the day’s sightseeing they sang in perfect harmony and back in Kottayam, I made them sing the song many times for me.

We were in Kodai for two or three days. All the fun apart, leaving Kodai after being in unison with the enchanting beauty of nature in its majestic glory and breathing the cool air filled with the fragrance of Eucalyptus , was always very painful to me.

The swirl down the hair-pin curves of the Kodai hills was a nightmare for me. I used to have all kinds of problems like giddiness, pain in the ear and nausea. Therefore until our bus “landed” on the plains I would remain rooted to my seat with closed eyes. During all the tours to Kodai this part remained dreaded.  It takes a little over two hours to reach the plains. This time a nice thing happened.  A certain song I had heard during my school days came to my mind. It is a sedate folk song which goes like ....”Alappuzhakkaran Kesavan aangala enikkoru kuthu thoda venam ....”. I don’t know how it surfaced in my mind because it is so sedate, unsuitable for a tour party raring to rock. In half slumber an idea crept into my mind. I did a little bit of what we call “re-mixing”. A “Dhintha Dhithai” was inserted after “Alappuzhakkaran” and a “Dhakridha Dhithai” after pronouncing Alappuzhakkaran for a second time. And the Alappuzhakkarans (twice) were given an inebriated punch replacing the sedate, decent original Alappuzhakkaran. The effect was magical. The dragging monotonous stuff  sprang into the lightning stuff so suited for a tour party.

On reaching the plains, I conveyed the idea to Durga. We had a small rehearsal and the musically talented boys and girls picked up the high spirits of Alappuzhakkaran.  They wanted me to lead. Though I liked it I am always very shy.  Still I agreed. All the senior teachers were pleasantly surprised by the new number. It reached a crescendo and remained there non stop. The song had all the makings of a Pandimelam. Singing with closed eyes I was in high spirits and the boys and girls were dancing in joy and their chorus resonated well with the tempo of the music. On situations  like these one loses one’s sense of time. It went on and on and on when I felt some one tapping gently on my shoulders. Naturally I neglected it. After a few seconds I felt the tap again but this time it was not as gentle as it was earlier. But I was in no mood to relent.  The third time it was not a tap but a mighty hit on my shoulder. I stopped and opened my eyes, only to see Easow Mohan Sir ferociously staring at me. Seeing the fire in his eyes I politely asked “What Sir”. Without saying anything he pointed to outside. My good heavens!! I could not believe. I realised that the bus was not moving. It was parked in some unknown place in Tamil Nadu and I could see about a hundred Tamilians dancing all around the bus in frenzy. They demanded continuing the music. But seeing the fire still in EMG’s eyes all music had deserted me. We were facing a dangerous situation. Some in the crowd started asking us to stay in their village overnight with dance and music of this variety. I fell into my seat and remained there as if I knew nothing. Somehow  Easo Mohan Sir with his Tamil and Mohan Kurien Sir with his diplomacy of all seasons, convinced the crowd that we have to reach Kottayam  by mid night and extracted their permission to leave. And there was no music thereafter. The next day I learnt from Mohan Kurien Sir of what had happened. He narrated the incident like this. The bus was running non stop for some two hours and the music too. When the bus reached a small little place with a tea shop someone suggested to have tea and the bus stopped there. That was the time when the  labourers from the nearby paddy field came to the tea shop after a gruelling day in the scorching sun. And our music gave them the much needed entertainment. And naturally they started dancing. I have often felt that thalam (beats) and dance are encrypted in the Dravidian Chromosomes.

Though there were a few criticisms,  in my mind I felt a little flattered. The Tamilians danced only since there was the right Talam and Melam to invoke those powerful Dravidian expressions.