Koligeet

Close your eyes. Open out your palms, spread out your hands ever so slightly. Stop thinking for a minute. Take a deep breath and just inhale the smells and listen to the sounds of the sea. Take two steps into the water, feel the waves play around your feet, shudder at the initial cold, soak in the wetness of the mud. Maybe you should open your eyes now and watch the moonlight dancing softly off the ripples, admire the infiniteness of the view, brush away those straying wisps of hair which the wind blew your way and just when you think nothing could be more peaceful, be overawed by a huge wave breaking laterally in the distance.

Now that you're sufficiently transported to the beach, picture yourself on a wooden boat, similar to the ones the local fishermen use. No fancy trawlers, a plain, simple dinghy. You're the fisherman, daily leaving precious land to brave the sea and its uncertainties. You don't know whether you will return or not, when is your next meal is a question to be asked much later. Now you're setting off into the distance, standing tall at the fore end, mocking the sea, though you are on your guard, to catch the faintest signs of the sea's wrath. But you're not alone, the love of your life is making her way through the boat with the haughtiness in her step befitting that of a Queen. You take a look at her, something in you changes, you turn around to look infinity in the face with the self-assurance of being its King.

That's the picture the Marathi song, "Mee Dolkar" paints in front of my eyes. It isn't a typical Marathi song but a 'Koligeet', one of the numerous songs sung by the 'Kolis', the fisherfolk of Mumbai. The fisherman or 'Koli' starts off with saying how he stays at sea, its Lord and Master and just occasionally visits land (one of the best lines a Marathi song has ever had), his wife follows that up by saying that though she's a daughter of the sea, she's now the wife of the Koli and consequently the Queen of the sea. The next verse talks about their fears through a storm and the final one talks about how they steal from the sea to make a living, the sense of pride in their profession being very apparent.

This passion is characteristic of all Koli songs. Though they don't sing in unadulterated Marathi as such (they sing in Konkani, a local dialect), my limited understanding of the language hinders me from completely grasping the beautiful imagery in the songs, another prominent trait. But I can identify the depth of feeling and probably that's what draws me to them.

The aforementioned song is from the album, "Geet Shilp", a work of Lata Mangeshkar and Pt Hridayanath Mangeshkar. It's the best anyone has got at capturing Koligeet. All those who think that Koli songs are limited to what you see in Hindi movies, you have to listen to this album, especially to know that the lyrics are far deeper than 'Galyan Sakhali Sonyachi'. I forgot who's written the lyrics for 'Mee Dolkar' but this would be one of my favourite 'love songs'. Also, though I don't understand classical music too much, I do know that the simulation of the sea on the above track is superb, one feels the gentle rocking of the boat in the first verse, then the violent tossing about as the storm starts to brew and then the calm shore region again as the couple land for work.

Personally, I am not too fond of Lata Mangeshkar but her voice on the song, "Mendeechya paanaavar" is positively haunting. I interpret the song as the wait of newly married Koli woman for her husband, who's been missing for a long time (which is correct too since a background on search on Google provided similar results). She hopes for a safe return and her consequent fulfillment. Once again, the lyricist deserves kudos because the song at no time appears in bad taste. The story is told through an analogy with a lonely and frail Tulsi plant in the courtyard, braving the wind.

The last song on my list is "Asa bebhaan haa vara", though not as brilliant as the other two, this is superb in its own right. Firstly, it would be a pretty difficult song to sing (at least for me, I can't scale that high :( ). Secondly, the strings on this track simulate a storm to perfection and you genuinely feel like reaching out to the helpless Koli woman, desperately trying to reach her lover who's lost at sea.

The album is reputed to have many such lilting numbers but due to limited sources on lan, these are the only ones I could lay my hands on. :(

A song, not on the above album but worthy of a mention is "Dol Doltaya Varavar". I have no idea what this song means, I'm simply mentioning it because I like it. It transports me to Ananth Chaturdashi celebrations in Mumbai, those were happy times indeed. Anatha Chaturdashi is the day, all the big Ganapati(Maharastrians call him Ganapati and not Ganesh) idols were taken to the beach for immersion. These idols are always accompanied by some sorta music and the above song is a favourite. We stayed very close to the beach in Mumbai and I have seen 14 AC celebrations. We kids never tired of them, the fights to be the first to spot a unique idol, the dares to run up to and steal some popcorn from the big pandals the Sikh Groups set up to distribute water and pop-corn to weary worshipers, the reluctant walk to bed-time(on account of school next day) and much more.

Well, this renewed interest in Marathi songs and Marathi in general, if nothing else, at least pleases my mom, who was beginning to worry that all the hard work of both sets of grandparents was being undone with my brother and me being capable of communicating effectively in English alone. Now, along with my grandparents she can primarily thank the Kolis (maybe few other singers too, especially all those who perform the 'Balgeet' or children's songs) and secondly the casts of the various plays my brother and me love to watch over and over again (hurrah for plays on DVD!!) for teaching and improving our Marathi.

An apt end to the post would be another one of my mom's (and mine) favourite quotes but the beauty is lost in translation. It is a couplet by the famous Marathi poet, "Gadima", short for G.D.Margolkar. What makes it special is this word he coins for dawn, which conveys dawn in its entirety which can't be duplicated just as no other word can convey twilight as effectively as "gloaming" does. Maybe I'll just end with"Vallav re Nakhwa, O vallav re Rama" which are the opening lines of "Mee Dolkar", it's the song of the fishermen which means keep rowing, steady there, keep rowing.