39-40. Golden Manangĕ + My Dear Mamuchi

39. Golden Manangĕ:^[1] Sarah Cohen. Recorded in a commercial studio, Kochi, late 1990s; IV-105.

Maņaṅṅě manamě mān puḷḷimāně
Kaņņě pŏnně teně pālě
Icciccuṃ āśiccuṃ paravaśanāyi
Mannavuṃ ěnikkillapol pŏn maņaṅṅě

1. Manangĕ, O my heart, O lovely dear one,
My eyes, my gold, my honey, and my milk.
I am exhausted from my madness over you.
But I am not tired of you, gold Manangĕ.

2. What do you want now? What are you craving?
Speak up! I’ll listen, Cohen-pohen-hey!
Explain it to me! Don’t fall upon me
Without reason, like a lout, O Cohen-hey.

3. O my dear, O my heart, gold Manangĕ, 
Have you caught a fever? Oh, can’t you say?
O my dear, have you forgotten me?
O jasmine flower, gold Manangĕ?

4. Get out, get out! Foolish Cohen, go away!
Don’t you know that a fever will emerge?
When you went away, then he came near to me.
Was that my mistake, Cohen-hey?

5. Manangĕ, alas! Dear gold one, stop!
My heart is melting; it is flowing out.
I caught the fever, and now my fruit has drooped.
I need a woman’s kindness, Manangĕ.

6. Get out, get out! Drunkard Cohen, go away.
And stop that singing, just like a crow.
First you go up high, then suddenly you drop.    
You little boy, O Cohen, go away.

7. He’s slow to satisfy—that fellow Chadayan! 
He’s a big drunkard, quick to fight.
O apple of my eye, this I swear to you, 
I’m your own Cohen, gold Manangĕ.

8. The singing of Chadayan stirred up my heart,
But Cohen’s song has melted my life.
O handsome Cohen, O my golden flag, 
Come nearer if you can, Cohen dear.

9. Their lips came closer. Then they began to kiss 
And stretched out their hands in happiness,
Pressing together in each other’s arms— 
Moving back and forth—gold Manangĕ.

40. My Dear Mamuchi: Sarah Cohen. Recorded in a commercial studio, Kochi, late 1990s; IV-106.

Māmūcci pŏnně pŏnkiḷiyě kaņņe
Kaņmaniyě tattě untattě
Kaņmaniyě pŏnně rasikkaṭṭě teně
Tāmarappūvě ñān iņaṅṅaṭṭě

1. Mamuchi! O my golden bird, my eye,
Apple of my eye, my parrot, Mamuchi!
Apple of my eye, O honey, let’s enjoy, 
Let’s “get together,” lotus bloom.

2. No! Don’t “get together” with me, Davudĕ.
Don’t wag and wiggle at me, Davudě.                          
But don’t stop speaking or take offense, Davudĕ.
Let’s still be friends, Davudě.

3. Ayayo, Mamu! I’m entirely friends with you,
O my dear Mamuchi. 
But don’t talk about me and all my faults.
There’s no end to that, Mamuchi.

4. Davudě! Your mind is like milk, 
Your leg’s the length of a carpenter’s kol; 
Your height’s the height of a boatman’s pole.
You are very tasty, Davudě. 

5. Your height’s the same as your width, Mamu;
Your width is wide as a load of wood.
On a huge flood, with my boatman’s pole,
So I will row my Mamuchi.

6. Don’t cry! O my gold, don’t be teased, O my eye!
Don’t plead, O my life; O Dayicha, don't cry.
I will embrace you, O my eye; 
Your companion I’ll be, my gold Dayicha.

Found only in two Paradesi notebooks, “Golden Manangĕ” (song 39) and “My Dear Mamuchi” (song 40) are humorous songs about romance, each composed in the form of a teasing and erotic dialogue between an amorous man and the woman he desires. They were sung with amusement and delight at informal gatherings in Kochi—occasions on which other thoroughly secular songs were also performed and enjoyed. The format of a comic dialogue probably echoed elements of Malayalam folk and drama songs of the early 1930s, the time during which at least one of the songs was composed. Neither song has explicitly Jewish content except that both the romantic couples were known members of the Paradesi Jewish community.  

Apparently feeling the need to protect the privacy of these couples, and also perhaps disapproving of the songs’ somewhat bawdy nature, Ruby Daniel refused to translate them. In contrast, her aunt Dolly Japheth copied both songs into her own notebook and Sarah Cohen proudly included them among the songs she chose to perform in a Kerala recording studio in the late 1990s. When I discussed this matter in recent years with several older Paradesis, they expressed the view that no harm is done in publishing them now, as the couples are no longer living and hardly anyone remembers who they were. The women in the songs are called by their pet names. As for the men, “Davudĕ” and “Dayicha” are nicknames for David; “Cohen” might have been any one of various Paradesi men bearing that name, and the identity of his rival “Chadayan” is a mystery.

Because of their similar nature, it might be assumed that both songs were composed by the same person or persons, but there are contradictory opinions about their identities. In 1977 one Jewish elder in Kochi attributed the Manangĕ song to Isaac Moshe Roby (1876–1955), nicknamed “Kakicha,” and another said it had been composed jointly by Isaac E. Hallegua (1862–1941) and Eliyahu Japheth (1850–1935). All three men were composers of other Malayalam songs. More recently, a Paradesi elder speculated that Kakicha was a more likely composer of these two playful songs and remembered him as a clever and witty storyteller with “modern” ideas and lifestyle, as opposed to the “seriousness” of the scholarly and pious Isaac E. Hallegua. However, it should be noted that Isaac Hallegua composed the “Song about Love” (Song 38), which has also been viewed as controversial for what some listeners take to be its double-meaning references to romantic as well as spiritual love.

The lilting melodies of both the humorous songs remain unidentified. Neither has the melody source been identified for Kakicha’s popular Zionist song “Our Ancient Hope” (Song 71), whereas the compositions attributed to Hallegua and Japheth share melodies with other Kerala Jewish songs—perhaps lending support to the argument that Roby authored and set tunes to both the romantic songs as well as the Zionist one; if so, either he created his own melodies for all three or borrowed from popular secular songs of the day.

Songs 39 and 40 are filled with the Kerala language of beauty and love. Each of the women is “golden” and both are as cherished as the eye, or the pupil of the eye (comparable to the English idiom “apple of the eye”). Manangĕ is also as precious as milk and honey (a Jewish image found also in songs 19 and 31); and in stanza 3 the poet calls her “jasmine flower,” illustrating her nickname, which means “sweet-smelling.” 

Both songs also contain clever, teasing insults. Davudĕ is as tall and thin as a carpenter’s measuring rod, while Mamuchi is as short and wide as a stack of wood, and Manangĕ scolds Cohen as drunken, foolish, and childish. Sexual innuendos are enjoyed in the image of the boatman’s pole and the flood, and in Manangĕ’s reference to Cohen as a crow who flew too high and then dropped. Zacharia (2000 personal communication) suggests that this reference to a crow reflects a story from the Hindu epic Mahabharata, where the crow is portrayed as a haughty bird, trying to compete with true high-flying birds who challenge him to cross the sea; then within a few miles of trying to fly too high, he falls into the sea. Here Zacharia praises the composer who “makes use of the natural talents of the larger society, showing a more nativist influence than appears in most of the Jewish songs.” It is notable that all three of the possible composers were widely read, though only Hallegua was formally educated as far as university matriculation.

_______________________________

^[1] Note that this name is pronounced Manangay. There is no “soft” g sound in Malayalam.
^[2] As noted in the commentary on song 8, a kol is a rod used as a carpenter’s measure.