Nadaswaram and weddings!

Nadaswaram is a “mangala vaadya”, an instrument that ushers an auspicious atmosphere. South Indian weddings and nadaswaram go hand in hand. To think of a South Indian wedding without the nadaswaram is like celebrating Deepavali without lights or Holi without colors! So intimately, the sounds of the instrument are woven into the occasion.

Even before the wedding gets underway, the nadaswaram troupe is at the hall, in the wee hours of the morning. The troupe consists of the main musician, his deputy, a drummer (thavil vidvan) and occasionally, a cymbals player. The main nadaswaram artiste has a regal appearance- draped in a spotless silk “jibba” and “veshti”. His torso is decked with multiple gold-chains and medals. He displays them with pride- like an army officer wears the badge of honour. The deputy artiste literally plays the second fiddle. His task is important- he has to maintain the pitch unswervingly, while the main artiste improvises the music over this drone. The drummer’s fingers are taped in white-bandage, or so it looks to the onlooker. It is as if, he needs that protection as he pounds his drum!

Having settled down in a corner of the wedding hall, it takes just the clatter of the drum and the first few notes of the nadaswaram to transform the place. The hall and the entire neighborhood is charged with festivity. Such is the nadaswaram’s magical effect.

The nadaswaram’s role in a wedding is like the background score in a film. The background score fills every frame of the film, but strangely, its presence goes unnoticed. So too, all the wedding’s proceedings are conducted against the backdrop of the nadaswaram. The groom and the bride occupy center-stage, the priests maintain a rhythmic chant and family members welcome the guests. Ladies sashay in colorful silk saris, children run around, there is laughter and conversation, everything plays out over the hubhub of the music. The nadaswaram artiste is like a zen-monk- unmindful of the overwhelming commotion. He maintains a line-of-sight communication with the main priest. At opportune moments in the wedding, the priest waves his hand like a music-conductor. The cue is for the musician to change the tempo and raise the pitch to a crescendo. That is only attention that comes the nadaswaram’s way through the function.

In the same hall, sits an elderly gentleman in the far corner. Family members are unsure which side of the family he comes from. They leave him alone. For him, the wedding has receded in the background. His attention is entirely on the music. His head sways, he blurts out “shabhash” and he keeps track of the beat when the drummer gets into action. The only time this gentleman gets up from his seat is to bless the couple with a shower of rice-grains, that too because someone thrust the grains into his palm!

By midday, the wedding comes to a close. Everyone makes a beeline to congratulate the couple and head for the sumptuous lunch. Our gentleman walks in a different direction, to the corner where the artiste has just packed away his instrument. “Your Todi raga was grand! And the percussion round was A-class!” The nadaswaram artiste’s eyes light up. He touches his heart with a gentle bow as he gracefully accepts the words of appreciation. “It is all my guru’s blessings!” he trails away.