[face=Arial]Song of the Day: Two songs for Halloween from aayiram jenmangaL.
- Saravanan writes:
As a fitting finale to the 70s/rare/MSV session, here are two ‘haunting’ songs to usher in Halloween:
http://www.dhool.com/sotd2/706.html
veN mEgamE ven mEgame and azhaikkindREn
from aayiram jenmangaL
Sung by S.Janaki
Lyrics by Kannadasan
Music by M.S.Viswanathan
* * * *
aayiram jenmangaL (1978/ Pallavi Enterprises) was produced by M.Muthuraman and directed by Durai. Mathioli Shanmugam drafted the screenplay and wrote the dialogues. Vijayakumar, a bespectacled Rajinikanth, Latha, Padmapriya, VKR, Manorama, K.Kannan (he passed away last week), Surulirajan, Vijayabala, V.S.Raghavan and Pushpalatha were in the cast.
The Malayalam movie yaksha gaanam (1976/ Apsara Combines) was the original (Perhaps there is an English original!). It starred Madhu, Thikkurusi, Sheela and Usha Nandini, and was directed by Sheela herself. Vijayanirmala took it upon herself to direct the Telugu version- dEvudE gelichaadu (also 1976/ Sri Vijayakrishna Movies), quite naturally had Krishna and Vijayanirmala in the lead, supported by Jaggiah and veNNiRa aadai Nirmala.
The Tamil adaptation, though inevitable, came two years later, releasing on March 10th, 1978. And was successful too- I recall seeing the 100th day banner in Chitra Talkies (This hoary landmark has been pulled down now :( )
The story goes like this: Ravi (Vijayakumar) is happily married to Savitri (Latha). Savitri’s brother Ramesh (Rajini) has come from Sinagpore, and so they all go to Ravi’s Ooty estate for a holiday. And that night starts Savitri’s terrible ordeal. An apparition is visible only to her eye; an eerie song (veN mEgamE…) and the sound of anklets make themselves heard only to her ears. And before she realizes what is happening, another spirit enters her body, driving out her own spirit! Overnight Savitri’s persona itself changes; she talks, walks and behaves like a different woman. Ramesh is puzzled at the change, and keeps a watch on her.
He follows her, as she wanders all over the hills with the easy familiarity of a person who has lived there all her life. He sees her shed tears over two names carved on a tree trunk; the fading legends ‘Radha’ and ‘Ravi’ tell the tragic tale of love and loss. He follows her as he goes to a humble cottage and eavesdrops as she introduces herself to the incredulous old woman (Pushpalatha) as her dead daughter Radha. It was only due to her unrequited love that she was hovering as a banshee so far, she explains. She tells excitedly that in the 5 days before new moon, if she can…er..have physical union with Ravi even once, she would be alive again. And if she didn’t succeed? Well, she would push Ravi down the same waterfall where she had met her end, so that they could unite in the other world.
In the old disused bungalow of Ravi, Ramesh sees a picture of Radha and listens to a cassette as well. He confronts Ravi with the photo, and Ravi tells all- how he fell in love with Radha (Padmapriya), the daughter of the late factory supervisor. They roamed all over the hills, even as the lofty knolls were passive spectators to their love (kaNnan mugam kaaNa kaathirundhaaL/JC/VJ). With steadfast determination, Ravi manages to get his father’s (VSR) acceptance. But when he rushes back with the happy tidings, he finds only her body- she had met a watery grave trying to escape from the clutches of her evil suitor Ranga (Kannan)
Armed with the facts now, Ramesh thwarts off the attempts of the possessed Savitri’s attempts to sleep with Ravi. The first night she dresses provocatively and sings a song of seduction (aRubathinaangu kalaigaL/LRE) in the bedroom. Ramesh knocks the door and pulls Ravi out telling him that there was a call that the factory is on fire. And the second night, he dissolves some strong sedatives in Ravi’s glass of milk.
The third morning, in the labour day gathering where they are special invitees, the transformed Savitri dances and sings with abandon (naan aadadha aattamillai/PS) That night, she takes Ravi to their summer cottage, but her plan goes awry again when Ramesh sets it on fire.
Night # 4. Ravi is returning home when Ranga waylays him to settle old scores and hits him on the head. Ramesh rescues him in time. Of course, that night too passes without Radha’s schemes seeing success.
The last night, its do or die (!) for Radha, and so she puts the vigilant Ramesh to sleep and lures Ravi out with a soft song of invitation (azhaikkendREn…) Savitri’s displaced spirit (crying out ‘aNNa! aNNa!’ and the barking dog wake up Ramesh and soon he is in pursuit as Radha sings and leads Ravi up the hill…. In the unnerving climax, good triumphs over evil….
* * * *
In the late 70s, ‘The Exorcist’ and ‘The Omen’ made a big impact in Madras. Of course, we kids weren’t allowed to watch these movies. But I recall with relish how we used to speculate on their stories. One favorite rumour at school was the number of deaths due to heart attacks in the theatres where these movies were being screened. Each fresh rumour would, with ghoulish glee, increase this macabre tally! My elder cousins and my neighbourhood friends would at times condescend to part with the gory details of few hair-raising scenes from these movies, and we would hanker for more…
It was at this opportune moment that aayiram jenmangaL was released. All of us were agog with excitement, hearing that it was a supernatural thriller. Our servant saw it first and didn’t turn up for work for that day- apparently, she took to her bed, shivering in fright! The next day, my mother gave her a stern warning not to relate the story to me. And that was that….no amount of cajoling would make Kasturi oblige me. But her eyes widened with horror whenever I asked her about the movie, and that was enough to fuel my interest. I just had to see this one.
The opportunity presented itself soon enough. Our parents had to go out of town for a wedding, and my cousins and I were left under the care of our grandmother. And ‘aayiram jenmangaL’ was being screened in nearby Jayanthi! We lost no time in persuading paatti to take us for the movie, and the avid film buff that she was (she still is, btw, only she has shifted her loyalties to Sun TV serials now!), she readily agreed. Of course, as the reels rolled by, she had grave misgivings, but it was too late and we were too engrossed to mind her mild protests. We watched in frightened fascination as the story unfolded. And we came out happily, our craving for thrills amply sated.
That night and the next, it was easy to fall into ready slumber, as we were all together, the comforting presence of paatti an added reassurance. And I was a hero at school for being the first in my class to have watched the movie, and I had to relate the story (or what I understood of it!) to a repeat audience, of course with all the embellishments and sound effects that I could muster. But when I was back at home, and in my room at night, my troubles started. Harrowing hallucinations and nightmares made me a nervous wreck, and soon had me knocking at my parents’ door, crying ‘bayama irukku!’ This continued the following nights as well. It was much later that I could sleep in my room again, of course with my forehead smeared liberally with vibhuthi and a murugar padam under my pillow!
Seeing the movie many years later (Raj TV?), I wondered with indulgent contempt at my childhood scare. Though slick and well made (Rajini seems to have done an almost similar role in Chandramukhi now…Did he get a sense of déjà vu, I wonder…), the movie didn’t send any chills down my spine now. Oh, the loss of innocence!
Apologies for this ramble in reminiscence :)
* * * *
veN mEgamE..veN mEgamE, of course, was the archetypal anthem of horror. Played often on radio, the song became immensely popular. MSV had used the same tune that he had composed for the original yaksha gaanam and ‘nisheedhini’, also sung by SJ, was the original number. The haunting humming, the spooky sound of anklets, and the forlorn pallavi all make this song a spectral sensation. How much longing is encompassed in SJ’s ‘varumO…varumO..varumo..!’
azhaikkindREn, though set in a similar sepulchral strain, manages to elevate itself into a different league. Filled with operatic flourishes as the climax demands, Janaki pulls off another winner here. Kannadasan fills the lines with philosophical ruminations on life, death, life after death, worldly desires, divine tranquility…[/face]
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