Kannadasan – A Realized Master (Part 26)

 

We have read—and some of us may have even experienced—sentiments like "When eyes meet, does one feel like speaking?" or "Though I have a mouth, the words won't come." This is a certain kind of silence.  Classical Tamil literature—especially Sangam poetry—contains many ideas very similar to these expressions. Thirukkural 1100 by Thiruvalluvar asks like this: "When eyes meet and speak, what use are spoken words?" This describes an entire love dialogue carried only through glances. Kannadasan expressed this sentiment in his song (Film: *Sangae Muzhangu*): “The language spoken by two eyes has no written script; a new bond born of the heart knows no end.” (“Irandu kankal pesum mozhiyil ezhuthukkal illai”). 

Sangam poetry has many parallels. The idea that lovers communicate through glances rather than speech is extremely common in Kuruntokai, Akananuru, and Natrinai. Many poems describe the hero understanding the heroine's mind through her eyes, the heroine conveying consent by a glance and friends noticing love merely from exchanged looks. Instead of conversation, there is silence, weeping, smiling, or embracing. The emotional intensity makes speech unnecessary. A recurring Sangam idea is that the heart knows what the tongue cannot express. Lovers understand each other intuitively. Many poems in Kuruntokai describe lovers who dare not speak because others are present. Instead, their eyes meet, their faces brighten, each understands the other's thoughts without words. These poems repeatedly suggest that the eyes are messengers of the heart. 

In Akananuru, a recurring concept is, "The heart reaches the beloved before words do." Which mean that the lovers understand each other instinctively, making speech almost unnecessary. In Kalithogai the heroine's friend often remarks that the lovers have already "spoken" through their eyes long before any words are exchanged. 

If we turn to Kavi Gnani Kannadasan, he has also sung, in his special question-and-answer format, about another type of silence which happens when couples who separated, meet each other in this song (“Oruthi Oruvani Ninathuvittaal…”) (Film: Saradha): 

"Woman: When those who parted reunite,

what is the state of womanhood then?

Man: Silence!" 

In another song, the poet elevates this silence to a divine level ("Shall I spread the wings of love in the breeze / and fly across the celestial path?" (“Kaadal sirakai kaatrinil virithu”) (Film: *Paalum Pazhamum*): 

"If one weeps upon reuniting after separation, there is some relief

But to stand speechless like a statue—that is the sanctum of the Divine

That is the sanctum of love!" 

Reunion of couples leaves them speechless. Several Sangam poems describe the moment after long separation when the lovers embrace first, tears flow and words fail. Kavi Chakravarthi Kamban in his Kamba Ramayanam also brings in many scenes where Rama and Sita exchange meaning through glances alone, and where reunion after separation is marked more by tears and embraces than by speech. He beautifully portrays that during emotional meetings after hardship, tears, smiles, and embraces convey more than speech. Kambar expressed it beautifully and simply: "He gazed, and she gazed too." In Natrinai, several poems describe reunion after separation. The silence itself expresses love more powerfully than conversation. 

Let us briefly examine how 'Kaviarasar' (the King of Poets) seamlessly incorporated profound Tamil literary concepts—as well as elements of devotional literature and the Upanishads—into his film songs. We have previously observed how Kannadasan adopted Kamban’s usage of the word 'vannam' (hue/shade) in his own lyrics—for instance, in the song "Paal vannam paruvam kandu" and various other film tracks. Deeply influenced by the verses of the Alvars and Andal, the 'King of Poets' (Kaviarasar) penned these lines for the song "Malligai Mullai" (Film: *Annan Oru Kovil*): "She who wore the garland before offering it to the Lord sang; she shone forever like a radiant flame in the Tamil firmament; Kodhai Andal reigned over Tamil; she would accept no marriage without Gopalan." He similarly set the stage for a romantic encounter with Krishna (Film: *Pachai Vilakku*): "With the *Kuthu Vilakku* (traditional lamp) glowing and the fragrance of flowers filling the hall, with the bed spread and the slender-waisted maiden waiting—will the colorful, flower-like Krishna fail to come? Will he fail to unite with this exquisite, picture-perfect maiden?" (“Kuthu vilakkeriya”). 

Furthermore, we have often heard Kamban’s clever turn of phrase, "Kandaen Seethaiyai" (I saw Sita), cited in various speeches. The 'Kaviyarasar' (King of Poets) incorporated this concept into a song of his: "I saw gold, but no woman was there—how can I describe it? Must I even say it? I saw a flower, but no face was visible—how can I describe it?" (“Pon ondru kanden pen angu illai”) (Film: *Padithaal Mattum Podhuma*).  Heeding the words of Andal—his mentor and spiritual mother—Kannadasan penned this song, influenced by her verses: "Born as the son of a woman, he grew up handsome in form; he filled the heart of a maiden and became the very life within her life" (“Oruthi mahanaay piranthavanaam”) (Film: Thaai Sollai Thattathe). 

Similarly, in the song "Thol Kandaen Tholae Kandaen..." (Film: *Idhaya Kamalam*), Kannadasan has drawn inspiration from the verses of the poet Kamban—specifically the lines "Thol Kandaar Tholae Kandaar... Thaal Kandaar Thaalae Kandaar Thadakkai Kandaar." Kannadasan possessed a unique sensibility—one that could melt the heart by simplifying devotion into the language of love, echoing the spirit of the *Pasurams* (Film: *Avalukkendru Oru Manam*): "I surrendered myself to You; I scattered You across the entirety of my soul" (“Unnidathil ennai koduththen”). That masterful knack for blending the divine with romantic lyrics was the hallmark of this poetic sage. Kannadasan incorporated the scene where his poetic idol Kamban sings while gazing at the moon—specifically the 'Seethai Nilavu' (Sita's Moon) imagery—into the famous 'Kothaval Chavadi' song, "Athikkai Kaai Kaai" (Film: *Baley Pandiya*). 

Some people might ask, "So, is it all just a 'carbon copy,' sir?" Well, a certain cinematic philosopher once said, "You should experience it, not analyze it!" If asked whether this amounts to copying, our counter-question would be: "Does anyone actually read the *Kuruntogai*, the *Kural*, or the works of Kamban and the Aalvaars? Would today's Gen Z even give them a second glance? And is merely reading them enough? Would one even understand them? How else could such wisdom reach millions of ordinary people as a natural part of lives? So, if one innocently asks, 'Isn't this practice of borrowing and simplifying actually wrong?'—here is the detailed answer: 

I stumbled upon this treasure quite by chance while rummaging through an old notebook from my school and college days—one where I used to jot down stories. These lines date back to August 15, 1983 (43 years ago), from a piece titled 'Vadikaal' (handwritten magazine): "Shall I tell you the truth? I am certainly not writing this for anyone else! I am writing it solely for myself. I am capturing these moments in words before the relentless march of time allows dust to settle on my wonderful, youthful experiences—causing them to fade and vanish from the memory banks of my mind. I am doing this so that, twenty-two years later—whether at the age of 44 or 66—I can read it, refresh my memories, and infuse new blood into my veins; or, to put it simply, so that I can 'overhaul' a mind and body worn down by age. (Amazingly, and coincidentally, I opened this note now and read it and my age is 66!)" 

When my passion for reading library books and writing was at its peak, in college days, someone wrote a 'Letter to the Editor', accusing me of copying Sujatha’s style, regarding a science fiction short story of mine published in the handwritten magazine *Vadikaal* (a story that later won the third prize of Rs. 250 in a Science Story Competition in *Mayan* magazine of Maniyan!). “Here is my own interpretation of 'copying': Twenty-two years ago, when I was born—pink-skinned, with hair like a tender sprout and fingers curled up—I must have lain in a bundle of cloth within my mother’s embrace. What else could my tiny eyes have gazed upon with wonder, other than my mother’s expressive, shifting eyes? When my father’s gruff voice—"Hey, look here!"—and his fingers touching my soft cheek intruded upon that moment... it was by 'copying' my mother—as she lovingly said, "Hey darling, look there, look at Dad," and guided my gaze from her eyes to his face by gently turning my head and neck—that I first truly saw my father. 

Wasn't it by 'copying' the way my mother and father spoke that I learned to speak myself? Had I not 'copied' by watching my elder brother Kavignar Jayalan write, would I be able to write page after page as I do now? Humans learn most of the things in the world by watching others and imitating them, don't they? Did figures like Veda, Shankar-Ganesh and others in music—or Kannadasan in literature—who 'copied' styles, merely 'teach' us, or did they just for the sake of ‘money'? A few decades back, people used to tease parents who had multiple children by asking whether they had at home a 'xerox machine or what?' Jokes apart, just think deeply about how from a single cell we ALL adults have become a big skin bag containing 50 trillion cells? Only by cell copying! In fact, spiritual masters of India and the West speak confidently that the entire cosmos and what it contains has come about as cheap duplicates from that ONE Supreme unmanifested, infinite, unnamable, ultimate, source! 

I am sure you all remember the 'Cap-seller and the Monkeys' story told by grannies or read in school books. What it really points out is that monkeys being our ancestors first developed 'mirror-neurons' in their newly evolving Pre-Frontal Cortex of their scatter brain. These neurons helped them observe and copy specific actions and behavior from others/elders. As we grew out of the apes, today's science has proven that humans have maximum mirror-neurons and hence their ability to live in communities and pass on the knowledge through stories told by head-hunter on fire-side-dinners from his experiential wisdom. Today, we have libraries and Google and faster going into AI so ALL members of humanity can 'copy' and enhance their understanding of the world/Universe. 

In his book, "Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind", author Yuval Noah Harari chronicles human development by tracing back to tales of our fore-fathers, Homo erectus, Homo ergaster, Neanderthals. Yuval goes to prove why we Homo Sapiens emerged as the ONLY dominating and successful species, by hand-holding us through Anthropology, History, Geography, Biology, Sociology and a host of subjects, in his riveting story-telling style. It covers man’s discoveries such as fire, his trials and tribulations with animal kingdom, path-breaking Agricultural & Industrial Revolutions, myths, gossips and contradictions, etc. It is a genuine attempt to chronicle entire life of a vast timeline in one go. The fundamental point he makes is that ONLY by sharing, passing down to generations and copying the knowledge accumulated by human experiences that we are able to be successful over other species of our planet. Precisely what we are today and ALL these technological miracles we have achieved today is ONLY because we COPIED from our ancestors. Now tell me, if Kavi Gnani Kannadasan had not simplified the wisdom from classical Tamil poetry and handed over to us through the magnetic cinema medium with decorated/mesmerizing music, would we the entire Tamil society in the world have received all of them by reading individually such a tough old classical Tamil? 

Some wise man joked, "If you copy from a book, it's plagiarism, if you copy from many books, it's called Research!"  Fun apart, existence of mirror neurons in chimpanzees and cell duplication by genes has been confirmed by recent neuroscience research. For instance, book titled, "Mirrors in the Brain, is a definitive text on mirror neurons. Written by the neuroscientists Giacomo Rizzolatti and Corrado Sinigaglia who co-discovered mirror neurons in macaque monkeys, explain how these neurons were first identified in monkeys and what they may mean for imitation, language, empathy, and human evolution. Author Lee Alan Dugatkin of the book "The Imitation Factor" focuses on how humans learn by observing others. He discusses infant imitation, social learning, and the neuroscience behind copying behavior and includes mirror neuron research among broader evidence. Our already known Funwallah Neuroscientist Dr V S Ramachandran in his book, "The Tell-Tale Brain" devotes an engaging chapter to mirror neurons. He suggests that they played a major role in human culture, language, and civilization. Another curious book named, "The Ape That Understood the Universe" by Steve Stewart-Williams, explains how imitation and observational learning evolved in primates. He covers mirror neurons in the broader context of evolutionary psychology. 

Discussing the brain mechanisms underlying imitation, including mirror neuron research, author Roy F. Baumeister of book, "The Cultural Animal" describes how humans learn socially by watching and copying from others. Explaining why humans became exceptionally good at learning from one another, book by William Von Hippel, "The Social Leap" includes discussion of imitation, empathy, and related neuroscience topics. Pointing out to mirror neurons as one possible biological basis for understanding others, title "The Age of Empathy" by Frans B. M. Waal uses studies of chimpanzees and monkeys to explain empathy in humans. Finally, "The Descent of Man" by the pioneering and famous English naturalist Charles Darwin, discusses continuity between humans and other primates, a concept later explored through mirror-neuron research. All these books explain how monkeys, chimpanzees, apes, and humans acquire skills by observing others, copying them, while also discussing the evidence—and the ongoing scientific debate—about exactly how much mirror neurons contribute to imitation, empathy, and language. 

‘That’s enough, Sir—you’ve stacked up an entire library here!’ We all know that Rama spent fourteen years in the forest. I, too, spent fourteen years managing a library filled with printed books—books made from the very trees of those forests (Thirty years ago, in the concrete jungle known as Mumbai!) That is precisely why I have compiled and arranged them here, for those eager to read. By the way, does the younger generation engage with anything beyond WhatsApp? Even the older generation here is constantly glued to their mobile phones. Who’s going to read all that? Exactly—who wants Saraswati? The whole world is running after Lakshmi! 

Besides, these were all written by white folks. If you’re asking whether there’s anything from our own soil—well, there is. In his book, "Stories at Work", Indian author, Indranil Chakraborty underscores the fact that…”’mirror neurons’ are involved in the most basic human abilities: learning, communicating, empathy and even language. Studies have also shown that mirror neurons fire up even when we read or hear words that described the same action. So, whether we do the action, see the action being done or hear of it, the same neurons light up. This leads us to feel the same way when we hear of an action as when we do the same action. So, when someone describes a pain they went through, we feel the same way. For example, when someone tells a sad story, we feel sad. When someone tells a horror story, we feel scared (“Do you recall the fun-horror story-telling by Nagesh to Baalaiyaa, in the film ‘Kaathalikka Neramillai?). This feeling leads to empathy.” After all, we all came from the apes and no marks for guessing: “Monkey see, Monkey do, Monkey feel”. 

To those who think, "Okay sir, we admit it—we are ALL just copying organisms; but why hype it up by calling it a 'Kannadasan-style song' is the greatest—after all, it’s just a movie song, isn't it?"—here is a suggestion: Try watching an old movie after stripping away all its songs (skipping songs entirely); you will see nothing but a bare skeleton. I did this with the film *Idhaya Kamalam*. It is Kannadasan’s honey-sweet songs with extra-ordinary music that breathe life, flesh, blood, and emotion into that dry and frustrating skeletal narrative. 

Let us explore the poetic genius's soul-soothing artistry through his some more songs... in the next episode.

-Jeyes (www.jeyes.in)