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Music was, is and ever shall remain the accompaniment of life
from birth to our final journey. Based on a traditional Tamil
folksong associated with the rice harvest, this adaptation wafts
in a succession of sensory memories from the smell of the paddy
fields to the myriad calls and cries of the wildlife that make
the rice fields their habitat, home and feeding grounds. Traditionally
the harvester would take a dish of rice from the previous eveningÕs
meal, improved, to pun gastronomically, by overnight soaking,
to the fields. Paradise opens with a stream of meaningless
or wordless notes known as suras.
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Arivu vetta poren penne arivazhy konda naan
Ariyaamal sollipoten pazham soorai konda.
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Please, fetch me my sickle, o darling woman of mine,
I forgot to bring my rice bowl.
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