Şruṫi (noun)

A term with varied meaning, it essentially signifies “musical pitch”. Think of a sruti as a step on a spiralling staircase of acoustic frequencies.

Şruṫi shuḋḋham (noun, parameter for judging a musician's calibre)

This means consonance, or producing a musical note in perfect sync with the sruti. To detect sruti shuddham, keep your ears peeled for smooth, resonant and happiness-inducing tones that cut through the air in a burst of rainbows, unicorns and gulaab jaamuns.

When you hear a mama or mami remark “Srutiyae saerale, canteen pogalaam vaanga”, just know that they did not find the artiste sonorous and are planning an imminent getaway to the eatery outside the auditorium, where they will sample some vadai and coffee while continuing to criticise the performer for tone-deafness.

Rāgā (noun, undefinable)

So, you're reading an Aesop's fable. The story uses simple everyday characters and storylines, but has an underlying moral or theme, right? Well, the raagaa is the underlying theme, mood, or melodic essence that gives a Carnatic song its identity.

Broadly speaking, this is a conglomeration of notes, melodic phrases and patterns that constitutes an aesthetic feeling or mood. There are thousands of raagaas in the Carnatic domain, and are classified under 72 fundamental melodic categories.

Many believe raagaas have extraordinary physical potency. They can make it rain, generate heat, hunger and other far-fetched things. But a raagaa is truly a mind-altering facet of Carnatic music.

Laya (noun, ironically uncountable)

Call me verbose, but this term refers to the underlying substratum of time calibrated into pulses that follow a metronomic pace and provide the scaffolding of a rhythmic framework to a piece of music. Firm grasp of this facet is crucial for an up-and-coming performer to escape a scathing review from a music critic.

Kālapramāṅam (noun)

This is the tempo of a piece of music. It is the speed or pace at which the metronome is maintained. Expand or slacken this strict tempo and seasoned rasikas will shake their heads at you in a most contemptuous way. See, rhythm is EVERYTHING in Carnatic music, be warned.

Tālā (noun)

This is simply the beat of a song. It is a metronomic pulse that can be maintained by a clap, a slap, or a tap. In Carnatic music, the taala can be of various complex rhythmic patterns that can be hard enough to keep count of, let alone perform in conformity with.

Vivāḋi (adj.)

This is one of those terms that started out with one meaning when ancient musical treatises were penned, but means something totally different in today's parlance. Today, 'vivadi' basically signifies a raagaa which contains notes that are right-up adjacent to each other and create a feeling of semi-dissonance and an eerie pathos. Its etymology suggests that such a raagaa is “against the grain” or “unorthodox”.

Sabhā (noun)

Broadly speaking, this connotes the environs in which a public performance takes place. But today, it refers to an organisation that supports performance art and conducts events. Whether a December-season tourist becomes immersed in Carnatic music or not, he is bound to get an unmissable taste of the “Sabhaa culture” that pervades Chennai.

Naturally, these aegises wield a certain clout and the “Sabhaa secretary” has come to be a generic public figure whose house is forever flooded with aspiring performers paying sycophantic calls and promising “donations” in exchange for “concert opportunities”.

Rasikā (noun)

This is the generic organism who appreciates and enjoys Carnatic music to varying degrees according to his/her understanding of the music's intricacies. It's a fancy Mylaporean label that can signify anyone from an aficionado of musical subtleties to a canteen-infesting sabhaa-hopper.

Kutchēri (noun)

Simply put, this means “concert”. Till the 19th Century, this term would apply to any public performance with an ensemble. But after Ariyakudi Ramanuja Iyengar happened to Carnatic music, this term has come to signify the systematic structure that Ariyakudi prescribed and enforced for public performances of Carnatic music. The structure is supposed to optimise the efficacy of the concert and strictly adheres to factors of time, mood, crescendo creation, variety and aims to leave the rasikaa with overall satisfaction.

T.M. Krishna's contention has been that this time-tested format limits the artist's freedom and is inimical to true musical exploration. He contends that the perpetuation of this format has mutilated the Carnatic rasikaa into a hypnotised zombie who has lost independent judgement and will clap at precisely predictable junctures in Pavlovian fashion.

Nāḋaswaram (noun)

This is one of the most ancient woodwind instruments in south Indian classical music. It may remind you of the clarinet in appearance and the saxophone in dynamics but can produce contiguous notes like the Shehnai. Today, the naadaswaram is played during festive occasions and typifies the soundscape around temples of the south. Many lament today that it is too rich an instrument to have been sidelined in the mainstream kutcheri culture.

Mallāri (noun)

This is a generic type of melodic piece based on a raagaa, most often Naatai, and a taala, that is executed in three different speed variations. It is typically played on the naadaswaram during temple processions and forms the soundtrack for the placing of the deity's idol onto a chariot. It literally means “wrestling with the Lord” while making the statuette sit up on the palanquin.

It is considered a formidable exercise in the intricacies of Carnatic music. It takes a whole lot of skill to perform the piece with complex rhythmic and melodic variations.

Mriḋangam (noun)

The primary instrument of rhythmic accompaniment in the Carnatic kutcheri. It is a horizontal drum that looks like a chocolate-centre doughnut has been stuck on either side. The larger doughnut produces a heavy sound like a gorilla beating its chest.The other produces a sound that a wooden boy may make while suffering a cold.

Upa pakkavāḋya (noun, derog.)

This is a term that underscores a clear hierarchy among instrumentalists of an ensemble. If pakkavaadya instruments are accompaniments like the violin or the mridangam, the upa pakkavaadya instruments are the lowly ghatam (an upturned pot), the khanjira (a tiny tambourine that has a sweet-and-sour texture) or the morsing (an odd tongued instrument that sounds like a comedian's entry music).

Ṫani āvarṫanam (noun, pejorative)

This is that segment of a kutcheri in which rasikas come together for a mass exodus out of the auditorium's various exits, which all lead to the canteen. It is also, incidentally, that segment in which the rhythmic accompanists get a chance to flex their muscles and indulge themselves in a solo performance. Thunderous sounds can usually be heard here, although these could also be the clamour of rasikas' canteen-bound footfalls.

Manōḋharma (noun, uncountable)

This word signifies the gamut of applied musical knowledge and practical expertise at the musician's disposal. It can also loosely mean “imagination” or “creativity”. If you lack this in ample measure, don't even bother offering donations to a sabhaa secretary; even the most venal of them will shrink from giving you a performance slot at any price.

Ālāpanai (noun)

This is the free-flowing melodic exploration of a raagaa and allows vocalists to gesticulate wildly, contort their faces into various expressions of torture and grief. Although it is meant to be a non-lyrical rendition and usually performed with vowels from an open mouth, the Carnatic oeuvre allows usage of certain consonants too, like “Ta” “Da” “Ri” “Na” and “La”. And no, rest assured there's no semantic meaning to the word “Tadarinala” in any south Indian language.

Kriṫi (noun)

This is the basic commodity on offer during a kutcheri. A musical composition set to a specific lyric, raagaa and taalaa, it is usually comprised by a main refrain called the pallavi, another complementary verse called anupallavi and then any number of verses called charanams. It is usually preceded by an alapanai and embedded with kalpanaswarams and neraval.

Kalpanaswaram

This is another facet of manodharma in Carnatic music. It involves articulation of the names of musical notes as you intone them. And no mugging up allowed. You have to spontaneously string melodic patterns on the spot. Any errors will be forgiven but not forgotten.

Neraval

Yet another showcasing of your creativity. Here, you basically pluck out a line from the kriti and try to sing it in as many different tunes as possible. But you have to land each syllable of the lyric at the same spot in the taalaa cycle as the original and keep within the confines of the raagaa. “Neraval” literally means “filling up” a lyric with a myriad melodic permutations and variations.

Pallavi (noun)

Usually a lyrical couplet following a specific poetic meter, the pallavi offers the Carnatic musician a stem around which to weave creepers of complex rhythmic and melodic variations. Once she has established the couplet's meter and skeletal form, the musician will then proceed to tear into it, with “vigourous display of virtuosity and verve”. In the kutcheri format, the pallavi usually connotes one segment of a three-part pièce de résistance called the Ragam-Tanam-Pallavi.