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Sunday, 25 January 2026
Ilaiyaraaja’s Rain Ragas: Amruthavarshini and the Unique Hindustani Encounter
Ilaiyaraaja’s Rain Ragas: Amruthavarshini and the Unique Hindustani Encounter
🌧️ Ilaiyaraaja’s Rain Ragas: Amruthavarshini and the Unique Hindustani Encounter
Music often mirrors nature, yet few composers make it feel as though the elements themselves are speaking. In Ilaiyaraaja’s repertoire, Amruthavarshini and Miyan Ki Malhar do exactly that — not just melodies, but textures of the sky, clouds, and the subtle scent of rain.
Amruthavarshini (or Amritavarshini) is a popular, symmetric pentatonic (audava) raga in Carnatic music known for evoking the mood of rain, joy, and passionate appeal. Created by Muthuswami Dikshitar in the 19th century, it is famously believed to bring rainfall — its very name meaning “one who showers nectar.”
Key Technical Details: Melakartha: Derived from the 66th Melakartha, Chitambari. Structure:Audava–Audava (pentatonic/pentatonic) raga, featuring five notes. Scale (Ārohaṇa / Avarohaṇa):
ārohaṇa – S G₃ M₂ P N₃ Ṡ
avarohaṇa – Ṡ N₃ P M₂ G₃ S
Notes Used: Shadjam (S), Antara Gandharam (G₃), Prati Madhyamam (M₂), Panchamam (P), and Kakali Nishadam (N₃). Vādi / Samvādi: Panchamam (P) and Shadjam (S).
Musical Personality: Amruthavarshini sparkles with brisk, cascading phrases and a luminous leap from P to N, giving it an impression of rainfall in motion. It is expressive yet contained, devotional yet sensuous — making it a natural choice for compositions invoking water, compassion, and divine grace.
Myth & Tradition: It is said that Muthuswami Dikshitar’s Anandamrutakarshini brought rain to a parched village when sung in this raga — an association that has since become legendary among Carnatic musicians.
🎶 The Divine Legacy of Amruthavarshini
According to temple tradition, during the Ramayana era, Hanuman arrived at a sacred site in search of Sita, carrying his veena tuned to Amruthavarshini. Unaware that she was concealed nearby, he played the raga on the temple grounds. The celestial resonance drew Lord Shiva, manifesting as Singeeswarar, who appeared before Hanuman and instructed him to continue his search toward Lanka.
This sanctified place, where music itself became a medium of revelation, is the Mappedu Singeeswarar Temple in Thiruvallur District, Tamil Nadu. Even today, the shrine is revered as the spot where Amruthavarshini first descended to earth — a living symbol of how melody, faith, and divine intervention intertwine.
Mappedu Singeeswarar Temple, Thiruvallur District (Open Source)
In essence, Amruthavarshini’s story spans mythology, musicology, and emotion — a raga born of prayer, blessed by divinity, and immortalised by composers across centuries. With Ilaiyaraaja, it finds yet another avatar — where tradition meets cinema and rain turns into resonance.
☔ Amruthavarshini — The Rain That Shimmers
The five-note Amruthavarshini carries a natural brightness — a sound that feels like water meeting light. Ilaiyaraaja found in it a melodic simplicity that could express joy, prayer, and the first rush of rain.
Across his Tamil and Telugu works, he returned to this raga again and again, creating some of his most tender and radiant pieces:
Ippodhenna Thevai – Makkal Aatchi
Kathirundha Malli Malli – Mallu Vaetti Minor
Kurise Verijallule – Gharshana
Thoongatha Vizhigal – Agni Natchathiram
Mazhaikoru Dhevane – Sri Raghavendra
Vanin Devi Varuga – Oruvar Vaazhum Aalayam
🎶 Neela Lohitha – A Rare Collaboration
While exploring the intersections of Carnatic and Hindustani idioms, one must also recall “Neela Lohitha” from the Malayalam film Kaveri (1986). Though the film’s score was credited jointly to V. Dakshinamoorthy and Ilaiyaraaja, this particular composition bears Ilaiyaraaja’s unmistakable melodic signature. The song stands out for its fluid structure, evoking a tranquil yet devotional ambience, blending Ilaiyaraaja’s orchestral sensibility with the traditional gravitas of Dakshinamoorthy’s style.
Song: Neela Lohitha | Film: Kaveri (Malayalam) | Year: 1986 Lyrics: Kavalam Narayana Panicker | Music: V. Dakshinamoorthy, Ilaiyaraaja | Singer: Dr. M. Balamuralikrishna
🎼 Aavedana – Aalapana (1986): The Hindustani Voyage
If Amruthavarshini is Ilaiyaraaja’s sunlight, Aavedana is his monsoon sky. Conceived as a Ragamalika, it brings together both Carnatic and Hindustani colours. Here, Ilaiyaraaja sings the jathis and performs the Hindustani ragas himself, while SP Balasubrahmanyam and S. Janaki carry the Carnatic sections.
In my understanding, this is the only song where Ilaiyaraaja has used the two Hindustani raagas — Bahaar and Miyan Ki Malhar.
Miyan Ki Malhar is one of the most evocative ragas of Hindustani music, celebrated as the very sound of the monsoon. Belonging to the Malhar family — a cluster of ragas traditionally associated with rain — it is said to have been refined and popularised by the legendary musician Miyan Tansen of Mugal Emperor Akbar’s court. The raga blends serenity with grandeur, evoking the fragrance of wet earth, flashes of lightning, and the emotional depth of longing and release. Its tonal framework is richly curved rather than linear, allowing performers to depict clouds gathering and dispersing through subtle oscillations and glide phrases.
Scale (Swaras):
Ārohaṇa : S R₂ M₁ P N₂ S
Avarohaṇa : S N₂ D₂ N₂ P M₁ R₂ S
Key phrases include the curved ni–dha–ni–Sa glide that mirrors the gathering of clouds, and the subtle dialogue between madhyamam and the two nishādams that lends the raga its emotive depth. Typically rendered during the monsoon or late-night hours, Miyan Ki Malhar embodies both grandeur and introspection — a raga where the sky itself seems to sing.
Key notes include the characteristic movement of ni dha ni Sa that symbolises the gathering of clouds, and the interplay between madhyamam and nishādam that gives the raga its weight and pathos. Typically performed during the rainy season or late evening, Miyan Ki Malhar carries a contemplative yet majestic quality — at once personal and cosmic, grounding and elevating. In Ilaiyaraaja’s Aavedana – Aalapana (1986), its presence marks a rare and deliberate invocation of the Hindustani monsoon idiom within a South-Indian cinematic soundscape.
The Six Ragas of Aavedana
Madhukauns – Sa Ga₂ Ma₂ Pa Ni₂ Sa / Sa Ni₂ Pa Ma₂ Ga₂ Sa
A reflective opening that carries a serene and introspective texture, serving as the meditative base of the composition.
Kamboji – Sa Ri₂ Ga₃ Ma₁ Pa Dha₂ Sa / Sa Ni₂ Dha₂ Pa Ma₁ Ga₃ Ri₂ Sa
Evokes a grand, traditional Carnatic mood, providing a smooth transition from repose to emotion.
Pantuvarali – Sa Ri₁ Ga₃ Ma₂ Pa Dha₁ Ni₃ Sa / Sa Ni₃ Dha₁ Pa Ma₂ Ga₃ Ri₁ Sa
Brings devotional intensity, with phrases that lean towards yearning and solemnity.
Miyan Ki Malhar – Ārohaṇa : S R₂ M₁ P N₂ S
Avarohaṇa : S N₂ D₂ N₂ P M₁ R₂ S
- A monsoon raga filled with pathos and grandeur, where the ni–dha–ni–Sa motif depicts clouds swelling and breaking into rain.
Raag Bahaar – Ni₃ Sa Ma₁ Pa Ga₂ Ma₁ Ni₂ Dha₂ Ni₂ Sa / Sa Ni₂ Pa Ma₁ Pa Ga₂ Ma₁ Ri₂ Sa
The raga of spring, employed here to portray the grace of Manipuri dance. The pakhawaj and soft ghunghroos enhance its dignified elegance.
Ataana – Sa Ri₂ Ma₁ Pa Ni₃ Sa / Sa Ni₃ Dha₂ Pa Ma₁ Pa Ga₃ Ri₂ Sa
Concludes the piece with rhythmic vitality and a sense of closure.
The flow from Miyan Ki Malhar to Bahaar feels like a musical journey through the seasons — spring’s poise melting into the monsoon’s emotional fullness. The result is a rare cinematic moment where Ilaiyaraaja stands not only as composer but as performer, uniting two classical traditions within one canvas.
🌿 Two Languages of Rain
Amruthavarshini speaks in light — joyous, devotional, and pure. Miyan Ki Malhar speaks in shade — introspective, emotional, and soaked with monsoon spirit. In Aavedana, these worlds meet, forming a dialogue between season and sound.
🌈 Conclusion
Rain, in Ilaiyaraaja’s music, is more than an element — it is a state of being. Through Amruthavarshini, he gives rain its light, purity, and prayer. Through Bahaar and Miyan Ki Malhar, he grants it emotion, gravity, and grace — blending the celestial and the earthly in seamless harmony.
Each droplet seems to pulse with rhythm; each thunderclap carries melodic intent. In his hands, nature becomes notation, and silence itself transforms into sound. His portrayal of rain is not mere depiction but participation — an immersion where composer, listener, and the elements breathe as one.
When Ilaiyaraaja writes with rain, he does not describe it — he is the rain.
The sky, the rhythm, and the melody coalesce until music itself begins to fall.
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