Journal articles on the topic 'Malayalam Songs'

The folk songs have been well flourished in Malayalam Literature. The Malayalam folk songs entirely different from the Tamil folk songs. But it is fact that the structure of Malayalam Pattu has been adopted from the Tamil Literature and we could understand that the Tamil structure has been following even today. Folk songs have a special place in Malayalam Literature. Folk songs in Malayalam are categorized into community songs, Worship songs, Professional songs and celebration songs etc. This study has been analysis the Types and forms of folk songs which related to worshiped.

In the wake of the oil boom of the 1970s, there was a large flow of migrant labour to countries in West Asia, particularly around the Persian Gulf. ‘Gulf migration’ from the 1970s to the 1990s has had a huge impact on social, economic, cultural and political life, particularly in Kerala, a state in southern India. This article investigates the shaping of emotions over migration and how the representation of migrant subjectivities is anchored in the region’s social and cultural history. By analysing the popular Malayalam musical composition Dubai Kathupattu (Dubai Letter Songs, or the Songs) and the composer’s writings and media interviews, this article locates the Songs in Kerala’s sociocultural history and its resonance in the author’s social self. Malayali aesthetics, values and norms are dictated by the hegemonic Nair caste knowledge and practices. I argue that the Songs mirror the anxieties of Malayali society over migration and expose the emotionalisation process at work in Kerala in the late 20th century.

After the ruling of three kings Chera, Chola and Pandiya of the Chera dynasty, the people, small land kings, land lords and many other Political changes are happening. Due to various political interventions Kerala has been identified by various cultural, literature changes. When we search the literature works of ancient times in Kerala, it is noticeable that, they are flourished through the Sangham literature. When we explore the literary development of Kerala from north to south in every time period, various literature and literacy walks has been located. Among that, the effect of Tamil language had been seen directly or indirectly. When we try to investigate the history of Malayalam literature, the growth of poetic approach of literature has been identified into three major segments. They are: 1) Pattu (2) Manipravalam (3) Folk songs. The “Pattu” literature is the account of Tamil poem which are found in respective regional linquistics. Later on, in the 8th century A.D., “Manipravalam songs” that are assorted as a distinct language from the influence of absolutely different forms from both of them, “Folk songs” took place called Vadakkan Pattu and Thekkan Pattu. We can find Proto-Dravidian features in Sangam literature. After that this aspect focuses in folk literature now. The heroic poetry of Tamil folk literature is available in both Tamil Malayalam languages. They are detected in a way that reveal the specialties of the Malayalam and Tamil languages. Thus, the purpose of this article is to analyze the history of Pattu literature categorization in the Malayalam literature.

Until the 20th century, the AM script was extensively used to teach religious literature and for creative expressions among Mappilas (Muslims in Malabar) in Kerala. Most of the Mappila songs were written in AM script. The literary tradition of Mappila Muslims of Malabar is evident in the AM literature that includes Romantic Ballads, Folk Tales and Battle Songs. AM periodicals had an important role in the social reformation of the Mappilas. Several periodicals were published in AM language to preach the basic tenets of Islam to the commoners and to make them aware of the evil practices and superstitions existed in those days. This study treats AM as a contact language and it aims at isolating the contact induced elements in AM. The empiric foundation of the present study is the extensive data collected from AM literature representating different period and from different genres. The works used for data collection were Mohiyudheen Maala (1607 A D), Nool Maduhu (1737 AD), The Padappattu (War Songs) of Moyeen Kutty Vaidyar (1852AD to 1892 AD), and Chaar Dharwesh (1883 AD). The results of this study indicate that there are various borrowing patterns of grammar that occur in ARABI-MALAYALAM language contacts such as; Coordinating Conjunctions, Number Markers, Adjectives etc.

Written history, being the vehicle of dominant or hegemonic culture, often neglects sub cultural art forms whereas oral or folk culture acts as a reservoir of residual cultural practices. When written history is narrated, unwritten history is sung or performed. The importance of regional folk songs in delineating the subtleties of a particular culture can never be overlooked. Folk songs carry the emotions of the era as well as their associated sociocultural practices. Mahabali is the central mythical hero of a very prominent traditional festival of Kerala- Onam. Conceptual pluralities in the history of onam festival stand in the way of explaining onam in a unidimensional fashion. Yet, the popular myth goes like this- Mahabali (affectionately called by people as 'Maveli'), the benevolent asura king rules his land in abundance, peace and prosperity, with no instances of theft or murder. Jealous of King Mahabali's popularity and his power, the Gods conspired to end his reign. They sent Lord Vishnu to earth in the form of a dwarf Brahmin (Vamanan) who trampled Mahabali to the netherworld. But Lord Vishnu granted the king's sole wish i.e. to visit his land and people once every year. This visit is celebrated as onam festival in the Malayalam month of Chingam . The just and noble Mahabali in the myth is not just a symbol of peace and prosperity, but a true image of resurrection from oppression, as the history of Kerala would like to tell. Myths and folklore depicts the hope of a generation. This paper tries to probe into the intricacies of the Mahabali myth through select Malayalam folk songs, to bring out the essence of that hope.

Through the verve and beauty of V. Sambasivan’s (1929‐97) recitals for Kerala’s kathaprasangam temple art form, performed solo onstage to harmonium accompaniment, Shakespeare’s Othello has become a lasting part of cultural memory. The veteran storyteller’s energetic Malayalam-language Othello lingers in a YouTube recording, an hour-long musical narrative that sticks faithfully to the bones of Shakespeare’s tragedy while fleshing it out with colourful colloquial songs, verse, dialogue and commentary. Sambasivan consciously indigenized Shakespeare, lending local appeal through familiar stock characters and poetic metaphor. Othello’s ‘moonless night’ or ‘amavasi’ is made bright by Desdemona’s ‘full moon’ or ‘purnima’; Cassio’s lover Bianca is renamed Vasavadatta, after poet Kumaran Asan’s lovelorn courtesan-heroine. Crucially, Sambasivan’s populist introduction of Othello through kathaprasangam marks a progressive phase where Marxism, rather than colonialism, facilitated India’s assimilation of Shakespeare. As part of Kerala’s communist anti-caste movement and mass literacy drive, Sambasivan used the devotional art form to adapt secular world classics into Malayalam, presenting these before thousands of people at venues both sacred and secular. In this article, I interview his son Professor Vasanthakumar Sambasivan, who carries on the family kathaprasangam tradition, as he recalls how his father’s adaptation represents both an artistic and sociopolitical intervention, via Shakespeare.

This article focuses on the symbolic work around gender accomplished by singing reality shows in South India. Examining moments from Tamil-, Malayalam- and Telugu-language reality shows aired in the 2010s, and using ethnographic research conducted during the shooting of episodes of one of these popular reality shows, Airtel Super Singer Junior, in Chennai from the early 2010s, it shows how, through the reality shows’ staging and contest format, contestants are subjected to different and often conflicting regimes of evaluation. While the shows’ emphasis on performance and visual presentation and consumption is certainly a factor in the way the shows manage these conflicting pressures, equally as important are the different ways that talk about and around the performance functions, both to increase the cultural capital of singing film songs and to create entertainment value, producing unscripted, seemingly ‘spontaneous’ moments that catch the contestants and judges off guard. Talk functions to reduce stigma in some places while amplifying it in others. While elevating the cultural capital of a formerly ‘lowbrow’ domain, these shows simultaneously place the singer in an increasingly precarious position, producing distinctly gendered stigmatizing effects for both the female contestants and the playback singers who serve as judges.

Abstract Scholarly discussions on Islam in print have focused predominantly on the role of Urdu in the development of North Indian Muslim publics (Dubrow, 2018; Robb, 2020), ʿulama and Islamic jurisprudence (Tareen, 2020) and relations between Islam and colonial modernity (Robinson, 2008; Osella & Osella, 2008) This special issue instead offers fine-grained investigations on technology and labour; print landscapes, networks and actors; subaltern languages; and popular Islam. We critique the idea of an “epistemic rupture” brought about by colonial modernity, providing a more systematic analysis of continuities and changes in Islamic knowledge economy. Examining two centuries of print authored by South Asian Muslims, the articles in the issue provide new ways of thinking about questions of knowledge production, distribution, circulation and reception. The issue broadens the scope of earlier scholarship, examining genres such as cosmology, divination, devotional poems, salacious songs, romances and tales of war in Urdu, Persian, Arabic, dobhāṣī do Bangla, Arabic Malayalam, Sindhi, Balochi and Brahui. The articles show the different ways that pre-colonial practices and cultures of writing and reading persisted in the print landscape, in terms of copying, adaptation, translation and circulation of texts. They inquire into new technologies, labour and networks that evolved, and how it provided fertile ground for both new and traditional forms of religious activities and authorities. The articles present new Muslim publics, geographies, and imaginaries forged through the vernacularisation of Islam, and their relationship to the transnational or global community.

This article attempts to explore the performativity that surrounds choral music in contemporary India. 1 1 Choral music was discovered in Western civilization and Christianity. As a starting point, it had the Gregorian reforms of the 6th century. Choir primarily refers to a vocal ensemble practising sacred music inside church settings as opposed to chorus which indicates vocal ensembles performing in secular environments. Multiple singers rendered sacred polyphony 1430 onwards. By the end of the century a standardized four-part range of three octaves or more became a feature. The vocal parts were called superius (later, soprano), altus, tenor (from its function of ‘holding’ the cantus-firmus) and bassus (Unger 2010, 2–3). Moving beyond its religious functions, the Shillong Chamber Choir locates itself within various sounds. Hailing from Meghalaya in the north- eastern part of India, the Shillong Chamber Choir has many folksy and original compositions in languages such as Khasi, Nagamese, Assamese and Malayalam. However, what brought them national fame was the Bollywoodisation 2 2 Bollywood refers to the South Asian film industry situated in Mumbai. The term also includes its film music and scores. of the choir. With its win in the reality TV Show, India’s Got Talent 3 3 India’s Got Talent is a reality TV series on Colors television network founded by Sakib Zakir Ahmed, part of Global British Got Talent franchise. in 2010, the Shillong Chamber Choir introduced two things to the Indian sound-scape—reproducing and inhabiting the Bollywood sound within a choral structure, and introducing to the Indian audience a medley of songs that could be termed ‘popular’, but which ultimately acquired a more eclectic framework. Medley is explored as a genre. The purpose of this article is to understand how ‘Bollywood Broadway’ is the mode through which choral renditions and more mainstream forms of entertainment are coming together.

Javadi Hills is the eastern chain of hills comprising Vellore district, Thiruvannamalai district, and Tirupattur district. The people living in these hills call themselves Malayalis. They have nothing to do with the Malayalis living in the state of Kerala. They live in the hills of Yelagiri Hill, Kolli Hills, Sitheri Hills, and Pachaimalai Hills in Tamil Nadu. But marriages happen between the people of these hill areas. They are the majority of the 37 tribes in Tamil Nadu. One hundred and four villages (184) in fourteen panchayats on this hill are the domains of this study. These Malayalis tell folktales as songs and stories. It can be seen that the custom of telling this as stories by men and songs by women can be seen. And they do not tell these stories all the time. It is noteworthy that they sing only during festivals or among researchers who conduct research on this community. Similarly, this review article explains that the songs narrating stories related to them are in circulation only among a few senior tribal people.

In the present paper an attempt will be made toward interpreting selected stanzas from the work of Nārāyaṇa Guru (1854–1928), a mystic and social reformer from Kerala. In his Malayalam work the Kuṇḍalinī Pāṭṭŭ (The Song of the Kundalini Snake), Guru depicted an ancient yogic concept of Kuṇḍalinī, a coiled power residing in the state of sleep within the subtle energy centre (mūlādhāra) situated at the base of the central body channel (suṣumnā). The very same concept appears in many other works by Nārāyaṇa Guru, including Śiva Śatakam (One Hundred Stanzas on Śiva). An analysis of these stanzas in the light of the Siddha tradition (Tirumandiram by Tirumūlar) reveals that not only has the Kuṇḍalinī concept been borrowed from the Dravidian literature, Nārāyaṇan introduces the Tamil Siddhas’style of description of mystic experiences to his philosophical works, using metaphorical-twilight language which excludes the possibility of univocal interpretation.

In the present paper an attempt will be made toward interpreting selected stanzas from the work of Nārāyaṇa Guru (1854–1928), a mystic and social reformer from Kerala. In his Malayalam work the Kuṇḍalinī Pāṭṭŭ (The Song of the Kundalini Snake), Guru depicted an ancient yogic concept of Kuṇḍalinī, a coiled power residing in the state of sleep within the subtle energy centre (mūlādhāra) situated at the base of the central body channel (suṣumnā). The very same concept appears in many other works by Nārāyaṇa Guru, including Śiva Śatakam (One Hundred Stanzas on Śiva). An analysis of these stanzas in the light of the Siddha tradition (Tirumandiram by Tirumūlar) reveals that not only has the Kuṇḍalinī concept been borrowed from the Dravidian literature, Nārāyaṇan introduces the Tamil Siddhas’style of description of mystic experiences to his philosophical works, using metaphorical-twilight language which excludes the possibility of univocal interpretation.

The aim of this article is to highlight the formation of M.G.R first administration in Tamil Nadu. M. G. Ramachandran alias M.G.R. the Founder of All India Anna Dravida Munetra Kalagam in Tamil Nadu Politics was born on January, 17, 1917 at Kandi with Malayalee Parents. Maruthur Gopala Menan and Sathya Bama1, M.G.R. had to endure hunger poverty and squalor in his boy hood days. His mother Satyapama with her two sons Chakrapani and Ramachandran moved to Kumbakonam in Tamil Nadu in 1919, but could not find living. The boys could not go to school and Satyabama admitted them to Madurai original Boys Drama Company to be trained as stage artists for a Salary of five rupees per month. Both the brothers were food up with the tight work in the drama company and seeking chance to act in Cinema in Madras.

The Jews living in the state of Kerala enact their diasporic identities through a unique narrative network including songs, stories, and memoirs. Drawing on memory studies and affect theory, this article aims to examine selected Jewish folk songs as an example of entanglement of memory and culture, nostalgia and narrative. We study Oh, Lovely Parrot (2004), which is a compilation of 43 typical Kerala “parrot songs” – devotional hymns and songs for special occasions – translated from Malayalam into English by Scaria Zacharia and Barbara C. Johnson. Performances of these songs constitute cultural as well as affective phenomena that bring together Jewish identities, especially female rituals, in a collective effort to preserve their ethnic memory and its associated social identity. The music unique to this community illustrates the ancestry and tradition of the Kerala Jews which held them together even after ‘aliyah’ (a Hebrew word referring to the migration to the nation state of Israel post-1948). Using selected songs from the book, the article aims to examine the community’s cultural identity markers related to experiential and discursive diasporic memory. It also draws on the memoir Ruby of Cochin: An Indian Jewish Woman Remembers (2001) by Ruby Daniel and Barbara C. Johnson to analyse the affective quality of songs which unites the community in collective imagination and in complex nostalgia narratives.

This article discusses two Romeo and Juliet adaptations from Kerala, Annayum Rasoolum (dir. Rajeev Ravi, 2013) and Eeda (dir. B. Ajithkumar, 2018). Both films situate the lovers in a regional milieu which challenges notions of progress, as representations of political and religious contest suggest. Taking Ratheesh Radhakrishnan’s claim that the Malayalam film prioritises Keraliyatha or ‘Kerala-ness’, I suggest that songs and rituals are crucial to the films’ imagining of the lovers in relation to local cultures. Annayum Rasoolum and Eeda hold out the prospect of different futures, yet, ultimately, fall back on ambiguated conclusions and spectacles of separation and precarity.

This article proposes that the growing popularity of reality television in the southernmost state of India, Kerala – disseminated locally and throughout the Indian diaspora – is not the product of an innocuous nostalgia for a fast-disappearing regional identity but rather a spectacular example of an emergent ideology that displaces cultural memory, collective identity, and secular nationalism with new, globalised forms of public sentiment. Further, it is arguable that this g/local media culture also displaces hard-won secular feminist constructions of gender and the contemporary modern “Indian woman.” Shows like Idea Star Singer (hereafter ISS) (Malayalam [the language spoken in Kerala] television’s most popular reality television series), based closely on American Idol, is broadcast worldwide to dozens of nations including the US, the UK, China, Russia, Sri Lanka, and several nations in the Middle East and the discussion that follows attempts both to account for this g/local phenomenon and to problematise it. ISS concentrates on staging the diversity and talent of Malayalee youth and, in particular, their ability to sing ‘pitch-perfect’, by inviting them to perform the vast catalogue of traditional Malayalam songs. However, inasmuch as it is aimed at both a regional and diasporic audience, ISS also allows for a diversity of singing styles displayed through the inclusion of a variety of other songs: some sung in Tamil, some Hindi, and some even English. This leads us to ask a number of questions: in what ways are performers who subscribe to regional or global models of televisual style rewarded or punished? In what ways are performers who exemplify differences in terms of gender, sexuality, religion, class, or ability punished? Further, it is arguable that this show—packaged as the “must-see” spectacle for the Indian diaspora—re-imagines a traditional past and translates it (under the rubric of “reality” television) into a vulgar commodification of both “classical” and “folk” India: an India excised of radical reform, feminists, activists, and any voices of multiplicity clamouring for change. Indeed, it is my contention that, although such shows claim to promote women’s liberation by encouraging women to realise their talents and ambitions, the commodification of the “stars” as televisual celebrities points rather to an anti-feminist imperial agenda of control and domination. Normalising Art: Presenting the Juridical as Natural Following Foucault, we can, indeed, read ISS as an apparatus of “normalisation.” While ISS purports to be “about” music, celebration, and art—an encouragement of art for art’s sake—it nevertheless advocates the practice of teaching as critiqued by Foucault: “the acquisition and knowledge by the very practice of the pedagogical activity and a reciprocal, hierarchised observation” (176), so that self-surveillance is built into the process. What appears on the screen is, in effect, the presentation of a juridically governed body as natural: the capitalist production of art through intense practice, performance, and corrective measures that valorise discipline and, at the end, produce ‘good’ and ‘bad’ subjects. The Foucauldian isomorphism of punishment with obligation, exercise with repetition, and enactment of the law is magnified in the traditional practice of music, especially Carnatic, or the occasional Hindustani refrain that separates those who come out of years of training in the Gury–Shishya mode (teacher–student mode, primarily Hindu and privileged) from those who do not (Muslims, working-class, and perhaps disabled students). In the context of a reality television show sponsored by Idea Cellular Ltd (a phone company with global outposts), the systems of discipline are strictly in line with the capitalist economy. Since this show depends upon the vast back-catalogue of film songs sung by playback singers from the era of big studio film-making, it may be seen to advocate a mimetic rigidity that ossifies artistic production, rather than offering encouragement to a new generation of artists who might wish to take the songs and make them their own. ISS, indeed, compares and differentiates the participants’ talents through an “opaque” system of evaluations which the show presents as transparent, merit-based and “fair”: as Foucault observes, “the perpetual penalty that traverses all points and supervises every instant in the disciplinary institutions compares, differentiates, hierarchizes, homogenizes, excludes. In short, it normalizes” (183). On ISS, this evaluation process (a panel of judges who are renowned singers and composers, along with a rotating guest star, such as an actor) may be seen as a scopophilic institution where training and knowledge are brought together, transforming “the economy of visibility into the exercise of power” (187). The contestants, largely insignificant as individuals but seen together, at times, upon the stage, dancing and singing and performing practised routines, represent a socius constituting the body politic. The judges, enthroned on prominent and lush seats above the young contestants, the studio audience and, in effect, the show’s televised transnational audience, deliver judgements that “normalise” these artists into submissive subjectivity. In fact, despite the incoherence of the average judgement, audiences are so engrossed in the narrative of “marks” (a clear vestige of the education and civilising mission of the colonial subject under British rule) that, even in the glamorous setting of vibrating music, artificial lights, and corporate capital, Indians can still be found disciplining themselves according to the values of the West. Enacting Keraleeyatham for Malayalee Diaspora Ritty Lukose’s study on youth and gender in Kerala frames identity formations under colonialism, nationalism, and capitalism as she teases out ideas of resistance and agency by addressing the complex mediations of consumption or consumptive practices. Lukose reads “consumer culture as a complex site of female participation and constraint, enjoyment and objectification” (917), and finds the young, westernised female as a particular site of consumer agency. According to this theory, the performers on ISS and the show’s MC, Renjini Haridas, embody this body politic. The young performers all dress in the garb of “authentic identity”, sporting saris, pawaadu-blouse, mundum-neertha, salwaar-kameez, lehenga-choli, skirts, pants, and so on. This sartorial diversity is deeply gendered and discursively rich; the men have one of two options: kurta-mundu or some such variation and the pant–shirt combination. The women, especially Renjini (educated at St Theresa’s College in Kochi and former winner of Ms Kerala beauty contest) evoke the MTV DJs of the mid-1990s and affect a pidgin-Malayalam spliced with English: Renjini’s cool “touching” of the contestants and airy gestures remove her from the regional masses; and yet, for Onam (festival of Kerala), she dresses in the traditional cream and gold sari; for Id (high holy day for Muslims), she dresses in some glittery salwaar-kameez with a wrap on her head; and for Christmas, she wears a long dress. This is clearly meant to show her ability to embody different socio-religious spheres simultaneously. Yet, both she and all the young female contestants speak proudly about their authentic Kerala identity. Ritty Lukose spells this out as “Keraleeyatham.” In the vein of beauty pageants, and the first-world practice of indoctrinating all bodies into one model of beauty, the youngsters engage in exuberant performances yet, once their act is over, revert back to the coy, submissive docility that is the face of the student in the traditional educational apparatus. Both left-wing feminists and BJP activists write their ballads on the surface of women’s bodies; however, in enacting the chethu or, to be more accurate, “ash-push” (colloquialism akin to “hip”) lifestyle advocated by the show (interrupted at least half a dozen times by lengthy sequences of commercials for jewellery, clothing, toilet cleaners, nutritious chocolate bars, hair oil, and home products), the participants in this show become the unwitting sites of a large number of competing ideologies. Lukose observes the remarkable development from the peasant labor-centered Kerala of the 1970s to today’s simulacrum: “Keraleeyatham.” When discussing the beauty contests staged in Kerala in the 1990s, she discovers (through analysis of the dress and Sanskrit-centred questions) that: “Miss Kerala must be a naden pennu [a girl of the native/rural land] in her dress, comportment, and knowledge. Written onto the female bodies of a proliferation of Miss Keralas, the nadu, locality itself, becomes transportable and transposable” (929). Lukose observes that these women have room to enact their passions and artistry only within the metadiegetic space of the “song and dance” spectacle; once they leave it, they return to a modest, Kerala-gendered space in which the young female performers are quiet to the point of inarticulate, stuttering silence (930). However, while Lukose’s term, Keraleeyatham, is useful as a sociological compass, I contend that it has even more complex connotations. Its ethos of “Nair-ism” (Nayar was the dominant caste identity in Kerala), which could have been a site of resistance and identity formation, instead becomes a site of nationalist, regional linguistic supremacy arising out of Hindu imaginary. Second, this ideology could not have been developed in the era of pre-globalised state-run television but now, in the wake of globalisation and satellite television, we see this spectacle of “discipline and punish” enacted on the world stage. Thus, although I do see a possibility for a more positive Keraleeyatham that is organic, inclusive, and radical, for the moment we have a hegemonic, exclusive, and hierarchical statist approach to regional identity that needs to be re-evaluated. Articulating the Authentic via the Simulacrum Welcome to the Malayalee matrix. Jean Baudrillard’s simulacrum is our entry point into visualising the code of reality television. In a state noted for its distinctly left-leaning politics and Communist Party history which underwent radical reversal in the 1990s, the political front in Kerala is still dominated by the LDF (Left Democratic Front), and resistance to the state is an institutionalised and satirised daily event, as marked by the marchers who gather and stop traffic at Palayam in the capital city daily at noon. Issues of poverty and corporate disenfranchisement plague the farming and fishing communities while people suffer transportation tragedies, failures of road development and ferry upkeep on a daily basis. Writers and activists rail against imminent aerial bombing of Maoists insurgent groups, reading in such statist violence repression of the Adivasi (indigenous) peoples scattered across many states of eastern and southern India. Alongside energy and ration supply issues, politics light up the average Keralaite, and yet the most popular “reality” television show reflects none of it. Other than paying faux multicultural tribute to all the festivals that come and go (such as Id, Diwaali, Christmas, and Kerala Piravi [Kerala Day on 1 November]), mainly through Renjini’s dress and chatter, ISS does all it can to remove itself from the turmoil of the everyday. Much in the same way that Bollywood cinema has allowed the masses to escape the oppressions of “the everyday,” reality television promises speculative pleasure produced on the backs of young performers who do not even have to be paid for their labour. Unlike Malayalam cinema’s penchant for hard-hitting politics and narratives of unaccounted for, everyday lives in neo-realist style, today’s reality television—with its excessive sound and light effects, glittering stages and bejewelled participants, repeat zooms, frontal shots, and artificial enhancements—exploits the paradox of hyper-authenticity (Rose and Wood 295). In her useful account of America’s top reality show, American Idol, Katherine Meizel investigates the fascination with the show’s winners and the losers, and the drama of an American “ideal” of diligence and ambition that is seen to be at the heart of the show. She writes, “It is about selling the Dream—regardless of whether it results in success or failure—and about the enactment of ideology that hovers at the edges of any discourse about American morality. It is the potential of great ambition, rather than of great talent, that drives these hopefuls and inspires their fans” (486). In enacting the global via the site of the local (Malayalam and Tamil songs primarily), ISS assumes the mantle of Americanism through the plain-spoken, direct commentaries of the singers who, like their US counterparts, routinely tell us how all of it has changed their lives. In other words, this retrospective meta-narrative becomes more important than the show itself. True to Baudrillard’s theory, ISS blurs the line between actual need and the “need” fabricated by the media and multinational corporations like Idea Cellular and Confident Group (which builds luxury homes, primarily for the new bourgeoisie and nostalgic “returnees” from the diaspora). The “New Kerala” is marked, for the locals, by extravagant (mostly unoccupied) constructions of photogenic homes in garish colours, located in the middle of chaos: the traditional nattumparathu (countryside) wooden homes, and traffic congestion. The homes, promised at the end of these shows, have a “value” based on the hyper-real economy of the show rather than an actual utility value. Yet those who move from the “old” world to the “new” do not always fare well. In local papers, the young artists are often criticised for their new-found haughtiness and disinclination to visit ill relatives in hospital: a veritable sin in a culture that places the nadu and kin above all narratives of progress. In other words, nothing quite adds up: the language and ideologies of the show, espoused most succinctly by its inarticulate host, is a language that obscures its distance from reality. ISS maps onto its audience the emblematic difference between “citizen” and “population”. Through the chaotic, state-sanctioned paralegal devices that allow the slum-dwellers and other property-less people to dwell in the cities, the voices of the labourers (such as the unions) have been silenced. It is a nation ever more geographically divided between the middle-classes which retreat into their gated neighbourhoods, and the shanty-town denizens who are represented by the rising class of religio-fundamentalist leaders. While the poor vote in the Hindu hegemony, the middle classes text in their votes to reality shows like ISS. Partha Chatterjee speaks of the “new segregated and exclusive spaces for the managerial and technocratic elite” (143) which is obsessed by media images, international travel, suburbanisation, and high technology. I wish to add to this list the artificially created community of ISS performers and stars; these are, indeed, the virtual and global extension of Chatterjee’s exclusive, elite communities, decrying the new bourgeois order of Indian urbanity, repackaged as Malayalee, moneyed, and Nayar. Meanwhile, the Hindu Right flexes its muscle under the show’s glittery surface: neither menacing nor fundamentalist, it is now “hip” to be Hindu. Thus while, on the surface, ISS operates according to the cliché, musicinu mathamilla (“music has no religion”), I would contend that it perpetuates a colonising space of Hindu-nationalist hegemony which standardises music appreciation, flattens music performance into an “art” developed solely to serve commercial cinema, and produces a dialectic of Keraleeyatham that erases the multiplicities of its “real.” This ideology, meanwhile, colonises from within. The public performance plays out in the private sphere where the show is consumed; at the same time, the private is inserted into the public with SMS calls that ultimately help seal the juridicality of the show and give the impression of “democracy.” Like the many networks that bring the sentiments of melody and melancholy to our dinner table, I would like to offer you this alternative account of ISS as part of a bid for a more vociferous, and critical, engagement with reality television and its modes of production. Somehow we need to find a way to savour, once again, the non-mimetic aspects of art and to salvage our darkness from the glitter of the “normalising” popular media. References Baudrillard, Jean. The Mirror of Production. Trans. Mark Poster. New York: Telos, 1975. ———. Selected Writings. Ed. Mark Poster. California: Stanford UP, 1988. Chatterjee, Partha. The Politics of the Governed: Reflections on Popular Politics in Most of the World. Delhi: Permanent Black, 2004. Foucault, Michel. Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison. Trans. Alan Sheridan. New York: Vintage, 1995. Lukose, Ritty. “Consuming Globalization: Youth and Gender in Kerala, India.” Journal of Social History 38.4 (Summer 2005): 915-35. Meizel, Katherine. “Making the Dream a Reality (Show): The Celebration of Failure in American Idol.” Popular Music and Society 32.4 (Oct. 2009): 475-88. Rose, Randall L., and Stacy L. Wood. “Paradox and the Consumption of Authenticity through Reality Television.” Journal of Consumer Research 32 (Sep. 2005): 284-96.

Background: Cognitive impairment is usually associated with impairment in everyday activities. Scales to assess activities of daily living, like the Everyday Abilities Scale for India (EASI), have been employed as screening tools for dementia or major neurocognitive disorder. EASI had not been validated in Malayalam. This study’s objective was to validate the Malayalam version of EASI (M-EASI) in those aged ≥60 years. Methods: In a study undertaken in a tertiary care center, those aged ≥60 years attending psychiatry, neurology, or geriatric clinic of general medicine departments were evaluated using M-EASI and the Malayalam version of Addenbrooke’s Cognitive Examination (M-ACE). A total of 304 participants were recruited for this questionnaire validation. Information for M-EASI was obtained from a reliable informant. Results: The mean age of the sample was 70.04 years (standard deviation—7.33). The majority of them were males (58.6%) and educated up to primary school (42.4%), while the majority of the informants were sons/daughters/siblings (47.7%) and were females (73.7%). Taking M-ACE scores as the gold standard for diagnosing MNCD according to Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders—Fifth Edition criteria, there were 162 cases of MNCD and 142 normal controls. Cronbach’s α was 0.91. At an optimal cut-off of 4.5, adequate sensitivity (77.8%), and specificity (75.4%) were observed. The positive predictive value was 78.6%, and the negative predictive value, 74.5%. Conclusion: M-EASI has adequate psychometric properties as a screening tool for MNCD.

Voice is that the sound produced during a person’s larynx and uttered through the mouth, as speech or song. Voice is generated by airflow from the lungs because the vocal folds are brought approximately. When air is pushed past the vocal folds with sufficient pressure vocal folds vibrate and make sound. Menopause is defined because the purpose at the time when the cycle permanently ceases because of natural depletion of ovarian oocytes from aging. PRAAT could also be a really flexible tool to undertake to do speech analysis. The PRAAT software is made by Boersma and Weeniak from university of Amsterdam [1992]. The aim of the study was to live and describe the changes and acoustic voice analysis in typical Malayalam speaking menopause individual within the age range between 50 to 70 years using PRAAT software. The subjects were seated and therefore the recordings were made employing a microphone attached to a Del laptop in a quiet noise free illuminated environment. The microphone was placed at a distance of 8-10cm from the subject mouth. Subjects were asked to take a deep breath and phonate /a/, /i/, /u/ as long as possible at a comfortable pitch level. This was demonstrated by examiner for all subjects. The result shows that the highest mean pitch for vowel /u/. The highest mean minimum pitch for menopausal female observed for vowel /u/. The highest mean maximum pitch for menopausal female was observed for vowel /u/. The highest mean jitter and shimmer value for menopausal female was observed for vowel /u/. The highest mean NHR value of menopausal female was observed for vowel /u/. But the highest mean HNR value of menopausal female was observed for value /i/.In conclusion, the acoustic parameter tested that is [mean pitch, minimum pitch, maximum pitch, jitter, shimmer, NHR] the highest mean value of menopause female was observed for vowel /u/ but in HNR the highest mean value was observed for vowel /i/. And the lowest mean value for all the parameter [mean pitch, minimum pitch, maximum pitch, jitter, shimmer, HNR] except NHR was observed for vowel /a/ in menopausal female. For NHR the lowest mean value was observed for vowel /i/.

Recent advancements in Natural Language Processing (NLP) have made sentiment analysis an essential component of a variety of NLP jobs, including recommendation systems, question answering, and business intelligence products. While sentiment analysis research has, to put it mildly, been widely pursued in English, Telugu has barely ever attempted the task. The majority of research works concentrate on analysing the sentiments of Tweets, news, or reviews containing Hindi and English words. There is a growing interest among academics in studying how people express their thoughts and views in Indian languages like Bengali, Telugu, Malayalam, Tamil and so on. Due to a paucity of labelled datasets, microscopic investigation on Indian languages has been published to our knowledge. This work suggested a sentence-level sentiment analysis on multi-domain datasets that has been collected in Telugu. Deep learning models have been used in this work because it demonstrates the significant expertise in sentiment analysis and is widely regarded as the cutting-edge model in Telugu Sentiment Analysis. Our proposed work investigates a productive Bidirectional Long Short-Term Memory (BiLSTM) Network and Bidirectional GRU Network (BiGRU) for improving Telugu Sentiment Analysis by encapsulating contextual information from Telugu feature sequences using Forward-Backward encapsulation. Further, the model has been deployed by merging the domains so as to predict the accuracy and other performance metrics. The experimental test findings show that the deep learning models outperform when compared with the baseline traditional ML methods in four benchmark sentiment analysis datasets. There is evidence that the proposed sentiment analysis method has improved precision, recall, F1-score and accuracy in certain cases. The proposed model has achieved the F1-score of 86% for song datasets when compared with the other existing models.