This is a song I like very much because of the way it has been sung and also because of A R Rahman’s incomparable music holding it up from being being bland or monotonous. The beats are not too intense, and fall in the right places, making the song feel more even and, if possible, plaited like the hair of angels: it seems to flow is what I’m trying to say here. To those who don’t speak Tamil, the language in which the song has been sung, the song is about the flowers of the Margazhi month of the Tamil lunar calendar. The picturisation, you will agree, is also also very natural and almost implores and convinces you to take a walk in the morning mists of Yercaud or Kodaikanal, if possible. I always listen to this song before going to sleep; it has this soothing feel that gives me sleep faster than if I were to crash on my bed on a hard day’s night. It’s from the movie ‘May Madham’ (The Month of May).
So, why do I like the nights more? And why did I place this song here? Here’s why. This song has this touch of perfection to it, as though its sounds were crafted from the water of a lost spring, the mists of a cold night and the light of a new sun. It is as though nature is unabashedly dancing in its own and deserved glory as we all sleep. Have you ever woken up in the middle of the night and looked out of your window? I have, and outside my window is the desert. The silence is overwhelming, as if all life has gone to sleep. There is no light pollution as it were, just the moon to brighten the place up with its pale rays of reflected light.
சுகந்திர வானில் பறந்ததும் இல்லை
சுட சுட மழையில் நனைந்ததும் இல்லை
The night is one piece. There is no daylight to break it down into the artificiality the world around us is, the fragmentations that it bears as a mark of our presence on it. The night is as if all life has coalesced into one form, that of silence, and as if there has been a unanimous decision to, for once, look upon nature as it should have been. Of course, this is close to impossible in cities. But haven’t you ever wanted to gaze upon the world as it could have been if man hadn’t been born? There is an inspiring naturality to it. There is no light, only the pale glow of the moon; there is no sound, only the occasional chirp of a cricket; there is no animal or bird to be seen, only the distant defiance that is the highway. I am a man of science, and also a God-fearing individual, but I get these pangs of Paganism that come as they wish and seldom leave quick.
The night not only allows for me to look upon these sights, but also keeps me awake and guessing as to what would happen next: does nature have a secret? Does Mother Earth come out at night and caress the distressed lives to sleep? What happens? The night is a cloak! A magical cloak, and it shields from sight any secrets that must be kept by those who wield it. Sight is man’s one most powerful sense, and blindness is his one most fundamental fear. When the night comes, man goes home and sleeps. He does not wish to come out and work. He does not trust his family to do so, and he awakens and trusts and walks only when the sun comes out again. The light is a form of blessing I agree, but only because we can see and be ourselves. This could be as life for man should be, but this light also imparts this selfishness. We wreak havoc during the morn, and let things to rot as we sleep soundly in our beds in the night. I may be arguing sans a meaning here, but I do not care! If I see this as this, perhaps there is someone else also who sees the night for what it is: a time to heal, and to be yourself again as you should have been.
Clathration Therapy 