Song and Story 1: Lalitha- The Lone Bird Knows | Javali

This is a series of articles that stitches pieces of fiction writing with songs that have popularly been a part of dance repertoires. Born out of an exploration under the UNBOXED series, these articles aim at providing parallel, contra-indicative or juxtaposing contexts to popular poetry such as and not limited to Javalis, Padams and Devarnamas. With utmost respect for the poet/author and composer of the songs, the fiction writing that accompanies the songs is not meant in any way to disregard the original context. Should any reader choose to explore these pieces further, I urge you to access and understand the original contexts too.

Lalitha- The Lone Bird Knows

In a distant village, dusty roads wound their way through the pastures and thickets. The sun was sinking over the horizon, painting the sky in shades of blue and purple. The pastures were engulfed in an eerie silence- the cows had long gone back after a day of grazing. There was hardly any fertile grass left in these parched lands anyway. The mud cracked here and there, gaping open as if to ask for just a drop of water, but the skies were clear of any rain laden clouds. All that met the eye was dust filled smoke and clouds of more dust. A sudden trot broke through the eerie silence. The lone bird perched atop the scantily clad tree turned lazily to see who it could be. A distant lantern danced in the hazy air. the bird went back into its perch, cozying up for a night's rest. But the trot gave way to louder trots and thuds. The bird looked up again, almost annoyed at this sudden interruption to its normal. But the thuds and trots grew louder, now even accompanied by some chatter. More lanterns appeared on the horizon lighting up the winding path in patches. 

By now, the sun was gone. The dark and dust was prodding this entourage to halt for the night. A scream from the oldest member sealed the indecisive trot. HALT for the night it will be, under the scanty trees! The bird almost smirked at their helplessness. He looked around and then up at the sky as if to tell Her "You can be quite funny you know!" smirking his way back into his cosy nap; even as the chatter annoyingly grew louder. Children ran about before they were herded back into shelters that had suddenly cropped up.  Men and women hurried after children and wound up boxes of clothes and food. In this chaos that filled the night, one cart alone was overcome by a stillness. A stillness that belied the explosion of emotion that would follow. The excited chatter made its way into this stillness -just for a moment it felt as if a knife had sliced through it- more luggage from the cart was secured and an older woman shouted a few instructions. Just as suddenly as the chatter had arrived, it disappeared into the darkness... leaving the new bride and the stillness to talk to each other. 

A thousand moments must have passed. And then a tear appeared. Warm and clear, out of one eye. She let it stay where it had fallen, on the back of her right hand, gazing into it as if it were a deep well. It probably was, for it held within it not warmth or clarity- but a web of her past. Her small triumphs, her sacred smiles, her tiny tribulations, and.... the love that she lost helplessly. In that deep well of a tear was all the laughter she had freely laughed, as if that was all there was to life. In that deep well of a tear was all the hope that she had held on to when she lay her palm in his. In that deep well of a tear she ironically saw how shallow her dreams had been. In that deep well of a tear she saw that her dreams were too fantastical to become real. With a flick of surrender, the tear disappeared and took away with it the fire in her belly.

She closed her eyes and within those red eyelids she wondered if he would hold on to those memories the way she did. She would open her eyes at sunrise to a life that was ordained. She looked up at the lone bird, and he looked down through the haze as if to say "You will have to wait another lifetime to make your own decisions."

Did she wait? One hazy evening years later, defying all decorum, they would meet. And it wouldn't be their last meeting…

JAVALI:

Raga: Behag

Tala: Rupakam

Composer: Patnam Subrahmanya Iyer

 

SamayamidE rA rA nA sAmi tAmasiMcakurA

Kamalavairi canudeMcina kAMksha iiDEradura

Magadu Ura lEDu, nA mAmagAri jOli lEdu,

vaga telisinadigA, vaTTi paMta mElarA!

MannanacE niivu vacci, nannu gUDi yuMDinaTlu

ninna rEyi kala gaMTi, niirajAksha veMkatESa

 

 Published in Ananya Kalasinchana January 2022.