Vaan Varuvaan - Here comes again, flying from above, the sound, that Rahman Sound! The sound defined not by contrapuntal layers of melodies, but by endless layers of sparkling e-sounds enmeshed together to be a carrier and a cushion for the voice, the melody and the mood. After the opening Piano chords, any hint of acoustic instrumentation in the layers underneath the melody is avoided fearing they might hurt the serenity of the central melody. Even the omnipresent flute and choir do not play or sing any definitive melody; maybe they do, but they are not allowed to be heard in its original form; a whiff of the sound, just a whiff of it, picked at a moment precisely before the basic sound dissolves into silence is used to fill the sonic canvas. Despite the seductive soundscape and Saasha’s sensuous rendition, it took a while for me to embrace Vaan Varuvaan. The first few times I heard the song, the long opening line of the melody, with multiple “Vaan” words in succession, remained elusive. Melody sounded constrained by the monotonic words in the poetry (which isn’t a problem in the equally wonderful Telugu version “Mairmarupaa”). But, that was, only in the warm-up phase. Suddenly, when you are totally unaware, the contour of the melody reveals itself, and in that moment of Rahmanealization, Vaan Varuvaan does what every magical Rahman song does — finds a sweet little spot in our memory, digs a tiny hole, locks itself up to stay in there, forever.