Sillage - a scent trail of 33 years and the fragrance still lingers
August 15th, 1992 history was made in Indian cinema, when a movie released. But the spark that would influence world of music was lit on July 27th, 1992.
"Sillage, pronounced "see-yahzh", is the French word for "wake", like the wake of a ship in the water. In the perfume world, it refers to the scent trail that a perfume leaves behind as it evaporates."
There is a song or a piece of music I would assign for every phase of my life. Perhaps, it's the same for you as well. And if you wish to share it, please do so in the comments. During my childhood, Sunday mornings in Primary/Junior school - Title track or opening credits of He-man or Tom and Jerry. Sunday afternoons during that same phase - National Geographic title music. Then, Kraftwerk's Man Machine - a cassette with a red case I have no clue how my Dad had kept in his collection, which otherwise had mostly old and new Tamil songs along with HMV collections of Mukesh, Rafi and Kishore. Also, Bobby and Don double feature, each album on one side of a single Casette. Needless to say, an album of BoneyM and a few Christian Gospel albums. And at the advent of Middle school, there was one tape that would play on repeat - Dalapathi. So much so that we could hear the hiss of the tape. The last movie collaboration of Mani Ratnam and Maestro Ilayaraja.
Then, some time towards the end of July or first week of August 1992, my father brought home a Cassette on a Friday evening. The next morning, before he headed to work, the music began to play. I don't know what that sound was till date and I dare not probe to find out, since that is the sound I associate with the morning my preference in music changed. It was a paradigm shift. The audio which was playing in a 180 degree or a flat 2D soundscape, suddenly widened to draw me into that sphere. This time, I was able to feel the sound surround me from all around. A 360 degree effect while it was still played on a simple, 14w stereo set.
You know that feeling where you're looking at a painting, you're gazing into it for a while, slowly you see the frame around it dissolve and you seem to be drawn closer to the picture. The hues are more vibrant, the grains and textures of the paint on the canvas are way closer to your face. You can almost smell the paint - you blink and when you open your eyes wide, you're in the painting. You turn around to notice there's no bench, no gallery, instead, you're at the heart of the landscape. The only way out perhaps is when you let the canvas envelope you. You stay. You stay still. You surrender yourself to the world the artist has opened up to you. And that's how it was when "Chinna Chinna Aasai" (Choti si Aasha in Hindi) played.
The song began with a Vangelis-esque orchestral strings texture blended with chimes and you hear a series of soft beats that becomes the on-going rhythm. Just when you are wondering where is this going, the flute assures you it's a groovy trip. A subtle trilling of strings followed by a voice that breezed in like a zephyr. The voice of Minmini was quite unheard and it had the naivety the protagonist needed, perhaps. Until I watched the movie, I didn't know it was set in a typical rural background. While, truth be told, I had no clue what reggae was back then, it sure didn't sound like some village folk song or even like any other cinematic light music that was usually employed to introduce the female protagonists of that time. Also, I didn't quite understand most of the lyrics. However, it did hint that it was a peppy song which hinted about the little wishes of a girl that seemed a bit exaggerated. To add to that exaggeration was the groovy bass that reminds me of Wham’s - Wake me up , if you listen closely to just the start of the song “Jitterbug” part. And the freshness of introducing veena at parts, reggae style guitar strums and the complementing plucking of the fiddle strings.
Now, the signature of the artist on any painting is quite crucial. In this masterpiece you can hear ARR’s signature at 3:16 sec in the below shared audio clip. And it goes on till 3:38 sec. What best complements the voice is the visual - of an oarsman navigating a coracle through the rapids of a waterfall. This is a brilliant depiction of the music composer steering ahead his listener through his composition. I don't know if it was Director: Mani Ratnam or Cinematographer: Santosh Sivan’s idea, but it flawlessly captured the soul of the song’s creator.
Needless to say, Chinna Chinna Aasai, marked my turning point of transitioning from the Maestro to the Mozart of Madras. While I’ve been intently listening to Maestro’s songs since the last decade, that’s quite evident in my previous notes, I will forever be a Rahamaniac.
Now, reach for your earphones, recline and listen to the fragrance. Get immersed in it by every second. Once done, if possible, resist listening to it again.
#acnotes
PS: All images are screengrabs from the song’s video. Credit: Santosh Sivan, Cinematographer
Special Mention: Thanks to Debjit Basu (Perfect Strangers School of Music) for nudging me indirectly to finish this draft that was lying incomplete for weeks.
Ever Thankful to The Mastering Project for remastering the classics of ARR and sharing it on YouTube. Do kindly visit at leisure for some timeless masterpieces,
that are so well curated purely for the listening pleasure.