Narayana Teertha

The Krishna Leela Tarangini is a fascinating work that comprises songs describing incidents from the life of Sri Krishna. Based largely on Srimad Bhagavatam, it ends with the marriage of Krishna to Rukmini. The composer who created this was Narayana Teertha (1675-1745).

Born into an orthodox family of Kaza in present day Guntur district of Andhra Pradesh, Narayana Teertha acquired proficiency in language and music. His devotion to Krishna was absolute and he took to the orders of a monk in middle age. A chronic ailment tormented him and he wandered from shrine to shrine in search of a cure. Arriving in the Tanjavur area, he took shelter in a Ganesha temple in Nadukaveri. In the night he dreamt of Lord Krishna who instructed him to follow the first animal he saw on waking up, in order to be relieved of his illness.

The next morning Narayana Teertha espied a white boar wandering outside the temple. He followed it and walked to Bhupatirajapuram, a village four miles away. The boar vanished into the Venkatesa Perumal shrine there and Narayana Teertha followed. Once in the sanctum he found himself cured of the illness. He decided to make the village his abode. His fame as a holy personage spread far and wide and in remembrance of the white boar that brought him there, the village was renamed as Varaha (boar) puri (town) which in Tamil became Varahur.

Expressing his gratitude to Krishna, Narayana Teertha decided to compose His life in the form of a collection of songs. It is said that the Lord kept time to the songs by the chime of his anklets. Narayana Teertha was overjoyed at hearing if not being able to see his deity. But when he completed the section pertaining to the marriage of Krishna and Rukmini, he found that the anklets ceased to keep time for any further compositions. He therefore decided to end his work with the wedding as he felt that the Lord desired him to do so. The collection came to be called the Krishna Leela Tarangini.

Narayana Teertha made Varahur an important pilgrim centre and soon the Gokulashtami festival, the birthday of Krishna which falls in the month of Shravan (Aug/Sep), began witnessing enormous participation. The composer codified the celebration with events such Uriyadi (breaking of pots containing butter, curds, milk and sweets suspended from a height), a sport which Krishna made famous in Gokulam and Brindavanam. Even today the festival is celebrated with gusto at the shrine. Credit for its revival must go largely to Varahur Muthuswami Iyer, a well known violinist of the 20^th century. His family along with other enthusiastic participants and donors keeps the event going.

The exact place of death of Narayana Teertha is disputed. Some believe he is buried at nearby Tirupoonturuthi while others say he was laid to rest in Varahur. The former village has a Samadhi identified with him where an annual festival is conducted in his honour.

The Krishna Leela Tarangini’s music as originally created by Narayana Teertha has undergone several changes. The songs have been reset to music by many musicians. What is significant is the presence of several sollukattus (syllables which are recited as an accompaniment to dance in the text), thereby leading credence to the theory that the Lord danced to the songs when first sung by the composer.

The work is divided into 12 sections each of which is called a Tarangam. Each Tarangam had several songs in it, which in turn follow varying structures. Some are formally made out as kritis with pallavi, anupallavi and a series of charanams which again vary anywhere from three to eight in number. There are some songs which are structured as a collection of couplets, yet others are in collections of four lines. There are a few songs on other deities such as Ganesha and Durga. Interestingly the song Himagiri Tanaya Patyam, which is a prayer to Shiva became an integral part of Harikatha repertoire as an opening piece. All songs end with the name of the composer as the mudra.

Over the years several musicians made some pieces there own. There was a time when “Madhava mamava deva” (Nilambari) was heard in every home as the lullaby for infants. The famed theatre artiste SV Subbiah Bhagavatar took up “Jaya jaya gokula bala” as his “entry song” when he strode on to the stage. This was sung no matter what role he played even if it was that of Krishna. He is said to have set the song as a pancha raagamaalika (Bhairavi, Athaana, Kaamboji, Kalyaani, Surutti) which is how it is sung today. Bhagavatar and his harmonium counterpart KS Devudu Iyer would indulge in on stage pyrotechnics with neraval and swaram for this song which would invariably draw thunderous applause. The song remains a popular concert piece. Yet another very popular song, made famous by ML Vasanthakumari was “Sharanam bhava karuna mayi” which TM Thiyagarajan set in Hamsavinodini. It is sung in other ragas also but nothing has matched the magic that MLV wove with her rapid fire kalpana swarams for the line “madhusudana madhusudana” in the song.

Narayana Teertha’s songs clearly influenced those of latter day composers such as Tyagaraja and Muttuswami Dikshitar. There are similarities in lyrics and perhaps if the music had survived intact it would be possible to see similarities in that as well. The composer himself has earned an immortal place in the annals of Carnatic Music.

 This account was written for the CD Govindam Iha sung by Sikkil Gurucharan for Charsur Digital Workstation.

Death of a doyen

The passing of Smt Vidya Sankar, veteran vainika and musicologist is a great loss to Carnatic music. Such a person, no matter how old, was always a resource to reckon with. She took pride in her knowledge and was passionate about the art. May she rest in melody.

A pioneering sabha with a purpose

My story on the Madras Jubilee Gayana Samaj appeared today:

http://www.hindu.com/fr/2010/06/25/stories/2010062550960200.htm

Bharat Insurance Building – Can it not be retained in full?

The long and tortuous process of saving Bharat Insurance (Kardyll) Building does not appear to have any end in sight. The latest twist in the story is that the Heritage Conservation Committee (HCC) put together by the Government at the behest of the High Court has formed a sub-committee to assess the heritage value of the building and consider if only parts of it need to be conserved. Such a watered-down mandate does not bode well for the future of the structure.

The High Court was emphatic in its statement that “as far as possible, the building must be saved. The Chennai Metropolitan Development Authority and the Chennai Corporation, with the consultation of the HCC, shall issue directions for the protection of the building.” This clearly does not question the heritage value of the building . Moreover, the earlier judgement on heritage buildings which led to the formation of the HCC, clearly asked the committee to base its discussions on the list of heritage buildings in the city put together by an earlier committee headed by Justice Padmanabhan. Bharat Insurance Building was already on that list. Where then this necessity to once again assess the heritage value of the building?

That Bharat Insurance Building presents a unique element on the Chennai skyline is a matter beyond doubt. Architects may not agree on the style it represents but there is complete unanimity on the necessity to preserve the building. It in many ways can be compared to the Victoria (Chatrapati Sivaji) Terminus of Mumbai, which though representing a medley of styles and a profusion of ornamentation, has not only been preserved but also made it to the World Heritage list.

And what does conservation in part really mean? Can it be interpreted as merely retaining the façade? What of the interior which according to INTACH’s book, “Madras, the Architectural Heritage” has among other things “a truncated, vaulted, highly ornamental false ceiling with stained glass panels and other embellishments”? What of the “large wooden staircase and the ornate cast-iron work”? Can these be wished away? Of course, it is not certain as to how much of the false ceiling remains after the present owner’s misguided attempt at demolishing the building, an act that has ensured that the structure has remained a roofless shell for over four years now.

Buildings such as this were meant as an integrated whole. Retaining facades and remodelling interiors to suit modern needs may be possible for lesser structures, both in terms of size and architectural importance. The best answer may be to look at the feasibility of restoring the building in full.

Looking at the bigger picture, it may have been best if the HCC had first debated on and finalised a Heritage Act in full and later decided on the fate of Bharat Insurance Building in the light of that Act. Looking at individual buildings on a piecemeal basis does not take us anywhere. What is needed is a policy decision on the basis of which a general protection for heritage buildings can be assured. Today, while a Bharat Insurance Building may yet be saved, hundreds of others are falling prey to the wrecker’s hammer, fuelled by real-estate greed and ignorance of what can be done with heritage buildings. In fact, the recent talks on a Heritage Act have brought on a spate of demolitions of private heritage buildings, all hastened by the fear that with such an Act in place, realising the full commercial value of such spaces may become impossible.

Lastly, the composition of the HCC and therefore the Bharat Insurance sub-committee as well does not make matters any better. Comprised as they are with a majority of representatives from Government departments, agencies and institutions, it does not look as though any quick decision can be reached. Also, more often than not, such representatives toe the Government line which has not always been conducive to conservation of heritage. It is reliably learnt that the Bharat Insurance sub-committee has only one representative of INTACH and is otherwise peopled with representatives of the ASI, the CMDA and the Anna University. It can only be hoped that this group will come up with a balanced and well-thought out decision.

Some Theatres in George Town

Some Theatres of George Town

And so, on to the final piece chronicling my visit to George Town with Stephen Hughes. This concerns Stephen’s prime area of interest, namely films and theatres. There we were on the rickshaw when he suddenly asked me, “Have you also not read in several articles that Minerva theatre has been demolished?”  I replied that I had and also recollected what several elders had said about this unique theatre which was on the first floor of a building. “Then what about this poster?” asked Stephen pointing out to an evidently new advertisement for some movie which claimed that daily shows were on at the Minerva. Our rickshaw man became all animated at this point and said that Minerva was still standing and also in business. And so off we went. Sure enough the building was intact and as Stephen had told me earlier, stood above a flourishing godown into which paddy bags were being unloaded from a truck. The owner of Minerva was woken from his slumbers by the labourers and soon we were inside the theatre.

It is a theatre at a single level, approached by a long stairway that divides into two after a first landing. On side of the hall is a vast terrace that at one time according to Stephen had a garden. The theatre once catered to a largely upper class and European clientele, though that it is difficult to imagine now. What is of greatest importance is that after the demolition of the Crown on Mint Street, this is the oldest  surviving theatre in Madras having begun life as the National in 1914 (if I got Stephen right).

Mr Batcha, the owner, informed us that the theatre had been shut for two years when the previous lessees of the place could not run it. He then took it over, did some renovations and got it going. It now has three shows a day with each show attracting two hundred people. The theatre now bears the name Batcha (Minerva).

It is a theatre at a single level, approached by a long stairway that divides into two after a first landing. On side of the hall is a vast terrace that at one time according to Stephen had a garden. The theatre once catered to a largely upper class and European clientele, though that it is difficult to imagine now. What is of greatest importance is that after the demolition of the Crown on Mint Street, this is the oldest  surviving theatre in Madras having begun life as the National in 1914 (if I got Stephen right).

From Batcha (Minerva) we went on to Select, another long-standing theatre which according to Stephen had been used for entertainments other than cinema also. It had long narrow passages leading to the first floor on both ends of the building which were for patrons wanting to gain access to the first floor. Now a staircase inside the building serves the same purpose. Unlike Batcha (Minerva), Select has the full complement – ground floor, rear stall and balcony. It is really huge inside and has of course, sadly seen better days. Though I have been to Thatha Muthiappan Street several times, it was entirely thanks to Stephen that I lifted my eyes and saw the full façade of Select. I was amazed that I had all along missed the small gables and the pediment which according to Stephen once had a medallion depicting Queen Victoria. This theatre has three shows a day too.

Two other theatres, the Murugan and the Broadway also survive in Town. I must visit them soon.

 

What will Fort St George become?

If the Tamil Nadu Assembly and Government Secretariat’s shifting out of Fort St George was welcomed by heritage enthusiasts and conservationists, the continuing lack of clarity on what is to be done with this precinct, surely a prime candidate for World Heritage status, is worrying. And the latest deliberations on whether the erstwhile Assembly premises ought to house an academic body does not fill us with hope.

For years now, Madras Musings has been pointing out the fact that Fort St George suffers from a multitude of agencies and organisations all of whom claim suzerainty over the areas they operate from within the premises. There is the Army, the Legislature, the Government of Tamilnadu and also the Archeological Survey of India (ASI). As a consequence none appears to agree on what is best for this heritage precinct. Even as the complex is recovering from the recent vacating of its premises by the Government, it has become embroiled in a controversy between the party in power and those in the opposition.

In its general mood of opposing anything that is done by the party in power, the Opposition has announced that when it forms the Government it would do so at Fort St George and not in the new Assembly building. This has led to the powers currently in office to do some quick rethink on what was originally being planned for the erstwhile Assembly premises – namely converting it into a memorial and museum. In fact the idea had so firmly taken root that none of the fixtures in the old Assembly were removed to the new building and care was taken to make an exact replica of the Speaker’s chair for the new location. But with the opposition painting different strokes, the Government has begun thinking up new ideas.

The latest is that the Secretariat and Assembly precincts in Fort St George can be made over to the Central Institute for Classical Tamil. This will mean the entire Assembly will need to be stripped of all its seating, wood panelling and be remodelled. That this is hardly the correct way to handle a heritage site is of course not being thought of. Having an academic institution shifting there will mean plenty of new construction work being taken up at the place. That means moving further away from getting the place declared a World Heritage site.

Interestingly, Fort St George is not the first heritage site to be considered for this Institute. A couple of years ago, it was announced that the Ice House would be taken over for this purpose once the lease agreement with the Ramakrishna Mission had run its course. The Government backtracked in the face of a volley of protests and the Institute was later housed in a building along the Marina.

While a suitable home for an institute devoted to the state’s classical language is an absolute must, it may be best to build an entirely new premises for it, in one of the newly developed areas of the city. This would be in line with what the Government has done by way of the new library that is coming up at Kotturpuram. Converting an old building and a historic site at that is not worthy of consideration at all. The Fort cannot become a pawn in a political game.

 Fort St George is one of the most historical spots in our country, if not the whole world. It was here that the idea of an empire germinated; a thought owing to which much of later world history came to pass. It was also here that most of modern India’s institutions originated. That such a hallowed spot is not being considered for World Heritage status, when other cities in India have managed to qualify all kinds of places including railway stations, is a matter of great concern. That steps are not even being taken to get such a certification underway is of course an indication of the lethargy that prevails in our state when it comes to matters concerning heritage.

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Discovering Chengam Bazaar

I had always assumed that this was a kind of generic name for a particular part of George Town. But on 12^th June, during my wanderings in that area in the company of Stephen Hughes I was surprised to discover that there was a proper market of that name. Though what gave it the name Chengam and what that word means are both mysteries to me. It is just off Nattu Pillayar Koil Street which was the Devadasi quarter and in time any woman who was of dubious repute was dubbed Chengam sarakku. Chengam is the name of a town in Tiruvannamalai Taluk according to Google and I dont know what the connection with that place is. Interestingly, the Tiruvannamalai Matam Hall is close to Chengam Bazaar.

The market is quite a large one with the standard grid layout. In its heyday, says one of the surviving shopkeepers, it had sections earmarked for flowers, fruits, vegetables, fish, poultry and meat. The non-veg side had greater demand. The market catered to the householder as opposed to the other and greater market at Kothwal Chawadi which was for wholesale.

Even as early as in the 1930s the market was a byword for stinks and smells as evident from R Rangaramanuja Iyengar’s writings about his Friday visits to Veena Dhanam’s. But its actual decline began according to those who still sell from there when the non-veg eaters of Town gradually moved out from the 1950s and were increasingly replaced by vegetarian Marwaris, Gujaratis and Jains.

What Chengam Bazaar is known for today is mirror-making which trade occupies at least two rows of stalls. Several of the other stalls have either caved in or are in the process of doing so. A few are occupied by long-term tenants who have converted the stalls into residences. As we entered, MS Subbulakshmi’s Venkateswara Suprabhatam was wafting from one of these makeshift homes. Divine notes amidst unbelievable squalor. A corner of the market evidently serves as a public convenience.

Chengam Bazaar’s days are numbered anyway. An old crone with twisted legs and a blank look who sits at the entrance appears to symbolise its eventual fate. It is the classic case of an old precinct being allowed to run to seed and then being demolished as there is no other alternative. The place is owned by a Mohammedan family according to the shopkeepers and what is keeping them from tearing it down and selling it as real estate is some litigation. Judgement apparently is expected any day now and already real-estate developers are doing the rounds of the place. Those who still occupy the stalls hope for a reasonable settlement.

I am not at all questioning the fact that Chengam Bazaar has to be demolished. Now, it is the only way for it. But if there had been some foresight at least twenty years back, it could have been allowed to flourish as a typical Indian market, rather like the Devaraja Market of Mysore.

Short and Snappy dated 16th June 2010

Saving Heritage, the FM Way

What does the Man from Madras Musings do when stuck in a traffic jam? He has of late become addicted to the FM radio channels. The sheer inanity of what goes on by way of entertainment in most of them keeps MMM entertained. Passers-by may wonder as to why the man in the car is laughing uproariously to himself and certify him as non-compos but MMM would like to assure them all that it is entirely because of the radio.

But the other day MMM was pleasantly surprised to know that there was going to be a panel discussion on the necessity of saving heritage buildings. Was this a sign that these channels were growing up? On the panel were three people, a man of civil servant-like demeanour, the second a lady of artistic achievements and the third a ghostly voice over the telephone about whom nothing much could be gleaned. Perhaps a modest man with much to be modest about.

MMM tuned in just as the programme was about to begin. The anchorperson spoke in “Tanglish” and much of what she said in the mother tongue would have had classical scholars in that language screaming in agony. But that is neither here nor there. For the benefit of MM’s readers and the Chief’s well-being, MMM will provide here a gist in the Queen’s language, of what went on.

“Welcome, welcome, welcome, welcome,” chirped the anchor. “How are you all today on this fine morning? We have here a panel discussion on whether heritage buildings ought to be saved. But before we go ahead, we have two advertisements and a song for you.”

Five minutes later, we were back on air. “As you all may already know, today is a fine day and we have here a panel to discuss the necessity of saving heritage buildings. On board we have here Mr So & So, Miss Such & Such and Mr Other who has joined us over the telephone. How are you all today?”

So & So: “Er..er”

Such & Such : “Um..Um”

Other: “Cackle cackle”

Anchor: “Thank you, thank you and on that happy note, two adverts and a song”

We came back again after a while.

Anchor: “Welcome back friends. Here in the studio we have these lovely people all assembled to discuss the necessity of saving heritage buildings. My first question is to Mr So & So. Sir, is there a necessity to save heritage buildings?”

So & So : “Yes, you see…”

Anchor: “Thank you sir, thank you. But as we have a song coming up ..

And so it went on. The discussion never got beyond a stage where the participants did anything other than clearing their throats. But we did have several adverts and songs. Towards the end, there was a small scuffle between So & So, who probably having retired from service, had suddenly woken up the wrong ways of the Government, and the hollow voice over the phone, which probably hated all Government officers. Miss Such & Such, if she contributed must have done so in mime. The argument of course did not last longer than 30 seconds at the most, because the anchor was on her feet announcing that we would have two more advertisements and a song after which we, having agreed that heritage buildings needed to be saved, could proceed to the next programme which was a call-in feature where people could request their favourite film songs. MMM tuned out at this point.

SNs

Now you may wonder as to what that is. That is the Man from Madras Musings simply highlighting the plight of streets that have been named after great men only to have the names reduced to mere initials. And so street names = SNs in case you still did not get it. Take TT Krishnamachari, sorry, TT Krishnama Road. How many of today’s generation would know who TT Krishnamachari or Krishnama (bet even his mother did not call him that) was. And there is also UG Road which to the uninitiated is not Under Graduate Road but Utthamar Gandhi Salai. In all other cities he is called Mahatma Gandhi but then we had to be different. And in case you were wondering, Utthamar is not Tamil either. But leaving all those aside, have you come across ROB Street? The Man from Madras Musings has always wondered as to who or what it meant and had even idly speculated as to whether it commemorated a heist on the State Bank of India which stands close by. It stands for Ratul Omrah Bahadur Street. There is also MK Amman Street. In case you thought it commemorated a woman of that name, with perhaps some political leanings, let MMM assure you that it is named after the historic Mundaga Kanni Amman temple that stands on this thoroughfare. Talking of temples, here is one that nobody would have expected – Bangaru Ammal Koil Street. This narrow cul-de-sac in Mylapore is named after the wife of Bucchi Babu Naidu, the famed cricketer. It had coasted along for many years as Bangaru Ammal Street and one day decided to sprout a suffix- Koil. As to where that temple is, that is what MMM would like to know. Even the late Bangaru must be wondering about it.

It was probably thinking about all this that according to legend, Balasubramania Mudaliar, the founder of the short-lived Sunday Observer newspaper and active Justice Party supporter, refused to have a street named after him. Legend has it that he feared that it would be named Sunday Observer Balasubramaniam Road which in time would become SOB Street. The story may well be apocryphal but it does ring true.

In the meanwhile, let us be prepared soon for a whole slew of new initials, thanks to the renaming spree that our city is soon to embark upon.

Tailpiece

Each time the Man from Madras Musings wonders as to how end this column, something, as Mr Micawber would be happy to note, always turns up. MMM had expressed interest in a product recently and got an email from the sales person thanking him for the enquiry. It then went on to say – “We would defiantly able to offer you the required item”. MMM is quaking in his shoes.

Looking back at some women in my life

Pardon me for that salacious title, but I could not resist it. Last Saturday, my good friend Stephen Hughes the film historian and I went early in the morning to George Town. The pact was that he would show me some of the locations were silent films were screened and I would take him to the houses of some of the famous Devadasis and hence this title. As I learnt much that day and as business beckons, I will be brief, which is perhaps all to the good for the regulars at this blog (thank heavens not another mammoth post I can hear everyone say). I will also serialise the whole thing into three parts. The first is on the Devadasis. And so, here goes: Dhanammal’s house is just the same. Not yet demolished and still functioning as a godown.
The sweet and (not so) old lady who first identified the house for me and who once owned it is still going strong. We were not allowed into Dhanam’s house and caretaker made his refusal plainer by securing the door with a stout lock in case we forced our way in. But the house is still standing and that is great news.

Bangalore Nagarathnamma’s house is intact too! And it has been painted in all kinds of bright colours that surprisingly do not look out place.
In fact the paint made certain features stand out. It was thanks to Stephen that I noticed the rather Corinthian capitals of the rectangular columns at the two ends of the house and also the two idols that stood at the extreme ends. Could these have been put up by the redoubtable lady herself?
The present owners had bought the place ten years ago and were unimpressed when I told them of its history. What of Nagamma the old milk woman who had first identified the house? She has passed away since and may her soul rest in peace.

The sad news is that Madras Lalithangi’s house has recently been demolished. And so the birthplace of ML Vasanthakumari vanishes. Here is a pic of the empty site

The Draupadi Amman temple that Lalithangi worshipped in however thrives.
And then how could I forget Jalatarangam Ramaniah Chetty, the man who supported so many talented Devadasis, gave them concert opportunities and finally brought ruin on himself? His house is standing too. A close up of the terrace where innumerable and immemorial concerts must have been held is shown here

Was it Kshetrayya who said “Adi okka yugamu”?

Kshetra Kritis of Syama Sastry

Syama Sastry (1762-1827) is one of the great figures in Carnatic music history and is also a member of the hallowed Trinity, the other two being Tyagaraja (1767-1847) and Muttuswami Dikshitar (1776-1835). The facts about his life are well known. In brief, he was born into a family of hereditary archakas at the Bangaru Kamakshi temple in Tanjavur. Having displayed musical talents while young, he learnt from Sangita Swamin, a mystic and musician and Pachimiriyam Adiyappaiah, the creator of the immortal Viribhoni varnam. Abraham Pandither in his Karunamrithasagaram (1914) writes that Syama Sastry also learnt the veena and Bharata Sastra from Mahadeva Annavi, a veena artiste and dance master, who had migrated at around this time from Tirunelveli to Tanjavur. Syama Sastry in time became the chief priest to Bangaru Kamakshi and fashioned his worship in the form of music. He has left behind a small but exquisite corpus of songs, almost all of them dedicated to the Goddess. He had a small group of disciples amongst whom his son Subbaraya Sastry is perhaps best known.

The songs that Syama Sastry composed at various shrines that he travelled to are not discussed to the extent that those of Tyagaraja and Dikshitar are. There is a popular perception that he did not travel much. However, he appears to have travelled to Tiruvayyaru, Madurai, Kanchipuram, Pudukottai, Vaitheeswarankoil and Nagapattinam as evinced in his songs.

Kanchipuram held special significance for Syama Sastry. It was in that holy town that many centuries earlier, Adi Sankara had ordained a family that had migrated there from Cumbum in present day Andhra Pradesh, to perform the daily worship of Bangaru Kamakshi, a beautiful idol of the Goddess in standing posture. The icon had a large percentage of gold in its composition and hence the prefix Bangaru. The descendants of that family continued the worship for centuries and it was only when the Vijayanagar Empire fell in 1565 that they decided to move elsewhere along with the precious idol. The clan travelled far and wide over the next two hundred years or so, settling for brief periods in Gingee and Udayarpalayam before moving to Tiruvarur. It was here that Syama Sastry was born. Then in 1781, fearing an invasion by Hyder Ali and his son Tipu Sultan, the family moved into Tanjavur fort, where the ruler Tulaja welcomed them and constructed a shrine for the idol on West Main Street. The family gave up all ideas of moving back to Kanchipuram and settled in Tanjavur for good. However, given that the Goddess had come from Kanchipuram, Syama Sastry in many of his songs addresses her as Kanchi Kamakshi. “O Jagadamba” in Ananda Bhairavi is one such. “Brovavamma” in the rare raga Manji is yet another song on Goddess Kamakshi. Of course, several of Syama Sastry’s songs on Goddess Kamakshi could have been composed at Tanjavur itself and so it is difficult to identify which ones were composed in Kanchipuram and which at Tanjavur. However, there is also evidence that he visited Kanchipuram in a varnam “Sami ni rammanave”, in raga Ananda Bhairavi, dedicated to Lord Varadaraja of Kanchipuram. However, it must not be forgotten that there is also a Varadarajaswami temple in Tanjavur in praise of which Muttuswami Dikshitar composed a song. Interestingly, both Kamakshi and Varadaraja have received songs in their praise by each of the Trinity.

The Brhadiswara Temple of Tanjavur could hardly have failed to draw a song from the composer, as the entire town lived in that shrine’s shadow. In Syama Sastry’s time it must have been visible from practically every home. Being a devi upasaka, he chose not to compose on Brhadiswara but on His consort – Brhannayaki. “Dayajooda” in Raga Jaganmohini is one such piece.

Tiruvayyaru, the sylvan village of five rivers is a short distance from Tanjavur and in Syama Sastry’s time was home to Tyagaraja. It is not clear if the two composers ever met, but Syama Sastry’s son Subbaraya Sastry was a disciple of Tyagaraja too. In Tiruvayyaru stands the twin-shrine of Panchanadeeswara and Dharmasamvardhini. Syama Sastry gave us “Durusuga Krpajuchi” in Raga Saveri on the Goddess here. “Karunajudavamma” in Raga Varali, “Emani Migulavarnintu” in Raga Todi and “Palimpavamma” in Raga Mukhari are other songs on this shrine by Syama Sastry.

In Tiruvanaikka near Tiruchirapalli stands the temple of Jambukeshwaram dedicated to Shiva- Jambukeshwara who is worshipped here as the primordial element – Water. The Goddess here is Akhilandeshvari, well known for the Sri Chakra vested in Her enormous earrings by Adi Sankara. Syama Sastry composed his “Sankari Samkuru” in Raga Saveri on the Goddess here. There are four other songs by him dedicated to the Goddess – “Akhilandeshvari” in Karnataka Kapi, “Enneramum Un Namam” in Purvikalyani, “Enneramum Un Pada Kamala” in Punnagavarali and “Nannu Brova Rada” in Gaulipantu. It is strange that this set of five has not yet been declared a Pancharatnam!

Madurai appears to have exerted an enormous fascination on Syama Sastry. It is said that no less than nine of his songs, known as the Navaratnamalika were dedicated to Goddess Meenakshi. “Devi Ni Pada Sarasa” in Raga Kamboji is one of them. Books on Syama Sastry kritis list another seven – “Devi Minanetri” in Shankarabharanam, “Nannu Brovu Lalita” in Lalita, “Marivere Gati” in Ananda Bhairavi, “Mayamma” in Ahiri, “Minalochana” in Dhanyasi, “Rave Parvatarajakumari” in Kalyani and “Sarojadalanetri” in Shankarabharanam.

Nagapattinam is a pilgrim centre that is less well known compared to the shrines written about above. It has a magnificent temple for Shiva-Kayarohanesa and Goddess Nilayatakshi. It is famed as a Vishnavite kshetra for its Saundararaja Perumal Temple. It is a pilgrimage centre for Muslims for the Andavar Dargah in nearby Nagoor and for Christians for the Velankanni shrine. Syama Sastry’s tribute to Goddess Nilayatakshi is “Nilayatakshi Nive Jagat Sakshi” in Raga Mayamalavagaula. This is also sung in Raga Paraju. There are besides two others songs on the Goddess by him – “Nannu Brova Rada” in Raga Janaranjani and “Ninne Nammiti” in Raga Kedara Gaula.

Syama Sastry also appears to have visited Vaitheeswaran Koil. There is a song on Lord Muthukumaraswami set in Raga Begada. From his song “Karunanidhi Ialo” in raga Todi we see that he must have also visited Pudukottai, for the song is dedicated to Brhannayaki. The fact that it specifically mentions that She is the consort of Gokarneshvara lends credence to the belief that this was composed in Pudukottai. Some other songs on Brhannayaki/Brhadamba by Syama Sastry are also ascribed to this shrine but in the absence of any internal evidence, they could be on the Goddess in the Big Temple in Tanjavur also.

This account was written as a sleeve note for Charsur’s CD – Compositions of Syama Sastry, sung by Gayatri Venkataraghavan