In the first composition, Tansen effectively uses the well-known legend from the Bhagavata Purana that relates how Krishna saved the village of Gokula from the wrath of Indra, the lord of heaven and the rain god—equivalent to Zeus and Uranus combined.
The villagers of Gokula used to have a huge, very expensive annual celebration in honor of Indra. Young Krishna asks his father Nanda why such celebrations are undertaken every year. Nanda says it is to appease the wrath of Indra, who could delay the rains or cause floods.
Krishna tells the villagers not to indulge in expensive celebrations, assuring them no harm will come to them. If they just followed their dharma , which is farming, they need not fear the wrath of any deity. Thus assured, the villagers do not celebrate any festivity that year, making no offerings. This displeases Indra, who sends down torrential rains. But Krishna lifts the Govardhana Mountain and shelters all the villagers, their livestock, and, indeed, all creatures of Gokul for 14 days and nights.
Indra accepts defeat. Bowing his head, he leaves, stopping the torrents. This legend may mark a cultural transition from persons owing allegiance to the Vaidic powers gods to the characters and personalities—like Krishna—of the epic stories of the Puranas.
Note that the two-part names in the Malhar family mentioned in the headings below designate a raga formed by mixing the characteristics of Malhar with elements of another raga, creating intended effects.
The formal names of the rhythmic patterns are called taal. The mighty army has been arrayed on the ground straining to fight With massed clouds lowering Indra poured torrents Rain poured in torrents for four praharas 3-hour periods.
Krishna holding up the mountain saved Gokula Thus holding, He protected them all from gigantic raindrops—insects, worms, animals, birds—all were happily saved. The second example is set in the raga Mian ki Malhar, a variation of the original Raga Malhar. Mian ki Malhar uses two positions of the note ga E , both flat and sharp, consecutively in a swinging, heavy tone reminiscent of thunder. Higher notes, two positions of ni B , flat and sharp, are used in the Malhar family of ragas to imitate human speech.
Rhythmic tones played on the percussion instruments tabla or phakawaj provide counterpoint. Combined with descriptions in lyrical form, stratagems of words and rhythm are used to reproduce the effects of the monsoon rain, thunder, and lightning. A well-trained singer with a deep voice can suggest such weather effects by creatively using lower sharps and flats.
Raga: Mian ki Malhar Mr. The chakora is a mythical, pheasant-like bird. According to fables, it survives just by eating moonbeams Figure 1, left. The chaataka is another mythical bird that soars, waiting to catch raindrops to quench its thirst Figure 2, right.
The third example was composed by the well-known classical singer Pandit Dinakara Kaikini. His daughter Aditi Upadhya recalled the moment inspiration struck: Her father walked every evening along a tree-lined route to the Hanging Gardens on Malabar Hill in Bombay. On one occasion, it started to shower just as he reached the garden. Tansen knew that if he sing raag Deepak - the raag of fire, the heat it gives off will not only set the lamps alight, but it will also burn him to ashes. Then he had an idea.
He taught raga Megha Malhar - the raag of rain, to his daughter. If sing properly, this raag could bring rain. On the day of his performance, Tansen started singing raag Deepak.
Soon the temperature of the hall started rising. Suddenly, the hall was lit with countless diyas. As the music continued, everything in the surrounding started burning.
In the mean time, Tansen's daughter started singing raag Megh Malhar which brought clouds and rains all over to douse off the fire. Thus, Tansen was saved. This conundrum needs further explanation, and a compassionate analysis.
The musical experience relies a lot on the ability of the human mind and heart to imagine and experience things. Ragas are supposed to possess inherent emotional quotients, which come into play during a live performance. A raga is, then, a living organism, according to the the legendary female vocalist, Kishori Amonkar, who went on further suggest that the raga experience is not limited to mere technicalities of the form, which although have to be respected in their own right. The raga experience is further, supposed to transcend onto the metaphysical and spiritual sphere.
Enjoying a disciplined performance in Raga Megh involves imaging rainfall, amongst other things, and this exercise transcends the merely instrumental puzzle of whether the claim to cause rainfall is valid or not. In modern times, the claim might obviously not hold true for every performance in Megh, even by seasoned practitioners. Whether its true in history or not, while keeping space for a semblance of human doubt and wit, remains a question in history.
But a new experiential reality is opened up for the believer of the myth - as one is supposed to devote their Self to the Raga performance, which then assumes a rationality of its own, in practice. This is not a question of whether musical performance was purer in history, or whether older audiences and practitioners more able.
It is tough to resolve this issue, merely in a textual format. It requires other intervening variables, including live demonstration, and a compassionate ear which can listen actively. For practical purposes, the eastern classical musical tradition finds itself in the doldrums in Pakistan.
Audiences have shrunk dramatically. The totality also includes patient phrasing, a deep understanding of rhythm, strong memory, as well as good physical fitness of the performer. There are no shortcuts.
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