Murphy's Paradox

If laws were to be proved, then Murphy's Law would not stand a chance, for if we tried to prove it right then whatever can go wrong will, and we'll never end up proving it. So would it be safer to label it as Murphy's axiom instead?

Picture (im)perfect

If you had watched the broadcast of Andrum Indrum Endrum, Illayaraja's live performance in Chennai a year back, on Jaya TV I am sure you will have been haunted by that lovely tune they played each time they went for an ad break. It was Ilayaraja at his mesmeresing best, not exactly a rare occasion, but almost always a breathtaking one. If however I were to ask you which movie the song appears in, I am sure you would draw a blank. I chanced upon the video while skipping through the channels, on Sun Music of course, and trust me I was totally taken aback. Waltzing, kidding of course, it can be described as walking at best, to that tune was Vijayakanth at his young and dashing best, kidding again, and a heroine whose vivacious face and curvaceous body, sorry couldn't resist it (i meant the kidding part) , left me wondering how she wasn't touted as Kollywood's answer to Parveen Babi. And the name of the movie: Auto Raja. Pretty sure that the makers of the movie Auto had this name in mind before having to settle for a more mundane Oram Po, thanks to Kalignar's tax sop to all movies titled completely in Tamizh. That he forgot to mention which dailect of Tamizh and the wonderfully creative titles which came up because of this ruling is another story altogether.



Coming back to the issue of the picturisation of the above mentioned song, it is indeed a sad situation that this is not limited to just this song but to almost all of Illayaraja's classics. Atleast in the times of MSV and before there was never a great effort made because the tunes were simple and the lyrics all powerful. Though the lyrics remained equally poignant through Illayaraja's times, the directors decided that mere walking around wouldn't be enough and they had to jazz it up with dance routines. While the intentions may have been honest,the songs suffered. Often these days, I find myself hurriedly switching channels when I come across an old Illayaraja song being aired because I do not want my love for the song be diminished by the jarring visual.

To repeatedly watch a Karthik or Murali, or even worse some unknown face, try horribly to match step with the tune is a punishment which I wouldn't wish even on my enemy. At times I wonder how Illayaraja could allow for such blasphemy. Here's a genius belting out one masterful tune after another, only for it to be picturized in such a ridiculous manner. Would he not possibly envy the Harris' and Yuvans of today whose songs are made to appear, pun intended, much better than they actually are. How Shankar might have handled a "mayanginen Solla thayanginen" or a "kadhal kasukadaya", if you haven't seen these songs on television blame it on the lack of visual appeal, is a rather intriguing thought. Would he have still gone for those gigantic sets or instead understood the innate brilliance of the song and kept the picturization simple and hence enhance its appeal? Would "podhuvaga en manasu.. " song include some umpteen jaw dropping moves if picturised on Vijayrather than the rustic feel given to it in the actual movie? These are questions which one might say are best left unanswered. One supposes its pretty much the same with Illayaraja's songs. One just wishes they had gone "unpicturized".

Branded Items Only

Once on my way to school, a friend of mine , a year older than myself, asked a kid in 3rd standard from a rather affluent family what his favorite song in Alaipayuthey was. Pat came the answer " september maadham". Slightly taken aback my friend decided to ask just one more question, "have you seen the video?". The reply was not only an emphatic yes but also a naughty smile.

Give and take some exaggeration from the above story it still makes quite a .. story. No this is not a lecture on depreciating moral values in our society. This is about a term cinema critics use: the front benchers. Should a song with suggestive moves or shady lyrics appear in a movie these critics are ready to label it as an effort to please the front benchers. Do they mean to say that the people who sit in the 2nd row of the theatre have any different emotions and reactions to such a song from someone who has paid Rs. 150 and sits in cushioned chairs with his arms wrapped, protectively or otherwise, around his girlfriend. Isn't the baser emotions what the name suggests, something basic. Despite the rather negative connotation to it, its still the same for everyone, independent of the strata he/she belongs to.

To derogate the taste of those sitting in the front rows or to claim that the "back benchers" have a liking only for quality cinema reeks of arrogance and classist tendencies. One would like to ask those who pay in excess of 100 rupees for the movies they watch if they have seen movies from Iran, Korea or Mexico where some of the best and most wonderfully crafted movies are made. I haven't seen them but that doesn't mean I look down upon a Sandai or a Arasangam. If you don't like it, then no issues. But then to claim that one's taste is poor just because he/she finds the movie entertaining is to be judgmental without being practical. After all one man's liking can very well be the other person's dislike.

Another of the prejudices that these critics carry is to judge an "item number" by the director or the star cast. A Mani Ratnam movie item number will be described as tastefully done and providing refreshing change (remember the song in Bombay,? Any other director would have been lambasted while Mani Ratnam draws cheers). I have nothing against Mani Ratnam, in fact I would claim to be his ardent fan, but what irks me is the attitude of the critics and their elitist friends to item numbers. I am pretty sure that parents in posh Mumbai locals wouldn't mind their kids watching Mallika Sherawat belly dance in Guru but would have an issue with her item number, or any song rather, in another movie.

My understanding of the situation, and I would love to hear views, contradicting or otherwise, is that what you watch and appreciate depends on what the people around you would allow you to. In other words, while the tastes of individuals is independent of the strata of society, the appreciation, and I mean the open kind, is very much a reflection of the peer group. What decides whether you are impressed by something is whether it impresses the people you want to impress that you were impressed by that something. Too confusing? This is nothing compared to the tribulations of the guy sitting next to you in the theatre wondering whether he should clap and enjoy an item number or whether it'll reflect badly on him and therefore try and give the impression he's squirming in his seat. By the time he makes up his mind on either choice, the song would have been long over and all the time spent mulling over the options is a waste. Maybe now I understand why they say these songs are meant for the front benchers. They are the ones who derive maximum enjoyment from these songs. They are free of any inhibitions and all those considerations of what the person next to him/her feels. If only the critics would climb down from the false high pedestal they are sitting on and be more open minded in their evaluation of an item number.

One seat in the Cricket Theatre

All the world's a stage exclaimed the most famous playwright of all time. Ask Lalit Modi about it and he'll readily agree. This may not be the greatest show on earth but it certainly comes close to being the greatest show in the cricket world. (to me the India v Pakistan WC 96 quarterfinal will remain as the numero uno on that count ). When Brendon Muccullum swiped all those sixes on the opening night little did he realize that he had just clapped and said "action" to signal the start of what one can truly claim as a cinematic experience, complete with scantily clad cheer girls, crying stars and rebellious superstars. The theatrics on the field and off it (the forced hug and make up picture of sreesanth and harbhajan complete with Farokh Engineer desperately trying to remain in the picture, will remain among the most comical images of the IPL) would have impressed many a veteran actor. To see the same foreigners who would crib about playing in India in the heat of April queue up to get their share of the pie is possibly the best indicator that money is the overriding factor in anything and everything. Maybe its time for Master Card to change their slogan.

One wouldn want to be left out of such a historic tournament and when the chance came for me to be part of the action, albeit in the sedentary role of a spectator I grabbed it. So on the 21st , with free tickets courtesy Sunil, and Aadi for company I stepped into the ground pretty apprehensive about whether I'll get my money's worth. Considering that the Royal Challengers were playing that was a pretty tough ask . In case anyone is wondering what money I am talking about, it is the time that I was investing in the exercise and I believe in Time is money concept. At least that way with so much time in hand I can feel like a millionaire. With a live concert by Tipu going on, getting into the mood wasn't too difficult and we settled down pretty fast. As the sky darkened threatening showers and then delivering on it, anxiety set in about whether the match would happen. Almost everyone had a prayer on their lips to get the clouds to go away (though at the end of the match the same people were suggesting that a rain would have ensured a better result for the CSK)

As the rains went away and the chances of a full match became brighter so did the faces of everyone around. After all you don't pay in the hundreds and thousands to watch the rainfall. As soon as the match started the whole stadium seemed to ride on new found energy. The best part, about this game atleast, revolved around song and dance. The songs blaring from the PA system and the dance routine of the rather excessively gyrating cheer leaders of Royal Challengers. With a costume that would first send the local politicians to their graves with their heart stopping moves, and then make them turn in them protesting against such "unacceptable public behaviour", they were the ones inducing life into a game which had long been done to death through boredom, thanks to inspid batting performances by both the teams.

Two things became very apparent to me sitting there in the ground. One, Dhoni is pretty much the biggest selling celebrity in Indian cricket at the moment. Despite a string of failures, from his bat and his team, the cheers which greeted everything from the announcement of his name, to his arrival at the toss, his fielding and his batting entry were unlike anything seen before in a cricket ground (except quite obviously Sachin and maybe Dada at the Eden Gardens). The icing on the cake was the song they played on the speakers when he came into bat, "Singam Pola Nadandu Varan chella perandi.. "(translated as "My grandson has the majestic walk of a lion")" from Dhool. One is not sure about the grandson part, but he well and truly seems to have become the most loved adopted son of Chennai.

The other fact which became very clear was that IPL is the biggest cricket success story of the decade. As much as I hate to admit it, (yes I am one of those so called "tradionalists" who'd prefer watching Shivnarine Chanderpaul battling England all alone on the final day of a test match) IPL has brought in amazing entertainment value to cricket. It makes one feel he's got his money's worth at the end of the day. Maybe Lalit Modi does deserve a pat on the back. After all this is the second big he has done for Indian television, the other being the rights holder for Fashion TV in India. Not surprising then that he has figured out that scantily clad women and cricket are a heady mix in India.

P.S Talking about heady mixes, it is worth mentioning that the man has been arrested and jailed on the accusation of possesing drugs (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lalit_modi) . That i guess just about proves that he's a seasoned campaigner when it comes to giving people a high.

Goodbye Henin

The world's best backhand has ceased to exist. If ever there was a living proof for a pocket dynamo it was Justine Henin. At just over 5 ft, she was an anomaly in the modern world of women's tennis. As teen sensation after teen sensation came out of eastern Europe, she stood still at the very top of women's tennis.

While her compatriot from Belgium, Kim Clijsters seemed to prove that nice people can't be champions, Henin set about disproving it. There has hardly been any volume raised about her behaviour on court or off it. On the other hand, she's earned plaudits for the way she has handled herself in the midst of all her personal troubles. While she was distancing herself from her husband, she got closer to her immediate family and in the meanwhile found enough strength, mental and physical to win the French Open. Later the same year she went on to win the US Open without dropping a set, a phenomenal achievement considering she had to meet both the Williams sisters en route her victory.

Watching Henin in action was a lesson in graceful motion. Her backhand was one of a kind, and it might not be an overstatement to say it was better than Federer's. The crispness of the shot and the angles she created were to be seen both to be believed and to be stared at in disbelief. At a time when brutal power ruled the courts, she proved that brain counts for more than brawn. To claim that she was this era's Hingis would only do both the legends proud.

Through her playing years Henin has endeared herself to the both the paying public and the critics alike, a sign of a great champion. Its a pity that the world will no longer be her stage and we cannot rejoice in her achievements, for in her we all see a bit of us, the person who broke all stereotypes and emerged as a much loved much admired individual. Men's tennis might have a Nadal for a Federer, but there has never been a constant second to Henin, a true indicator of her stamina and resolve .

As she began to court success on a regular basis, her many detractors maintained she was just robot like and that took some sheen away from her victories. As time progressed however, the world saw more of her human side. Perhaps, the most touching moment of her career was in the course of her French Open victory last year. During the semi-final match, present in her box was a very special invitee, her coach Carlos Rodriguez'z son. Many times before she had claimed that if he wished her she would definitely win the match. That day was no different and her wave to him at the end of the match would be one of the most poignant memories in an illustrious career. We'll miss you, Goobye Henin!

makes me wonder..

There isn't much of a difference between sports and games. In fact its the olympic games and not the Olympic sports.

But then why does gamesmanship have a negative connotation while sportsmanship is one of the most desirable qualities??

The Trigonometry of Love

Sine Wave: The archetypical love story. The couple take some time to warm up to each other and reach their peak, but just as they start to relish the relationship it all comes down rapidly. Better than cosine in the sense that at least the couple end up where they started rather than down in the dumps.

Cosine Wave: The love at first sight story. It starts on a high. Unable to sustain the impetus it goes for a free fall.

Tan wave: The dream love story. It can't get better than this. After a slow start its a case of up, up and away. There is no stopping this wave and as the name reflects, it almost always seems tangential to the actual curve that one is on.

Cosecant wave: Married life maybe?? Marriages, they say, are made in heaven and it is only natural that this wave starts from somewhere there. And then things start degrading and its all downward for a while until it meets the sine wave. Here, realization strikes and efforts are made to make things better. Reward isn't too far away and soon things take a turn for the better and slowly but surely its back to where it all started, heaven.

Secant wave: " You cheated on me!! ". Those seem to be the words of battered half somewhere in the middle of the relationship. How else can you possibly explain the drastic change in the curve? A sudden jolt when the relationship reaches its heights, and in next to no time both of them are staring at the abyss. Despite forgiveness and conscious efforts to make things better it leaves both the parties involved scarred for life.

Cotangent wave: The fling. They came they saw and they captured each other, albeit briefly. Intense at the start it then takes a dramatic downward plunge. Somewhere in the course of the fall, this curve meets its happy cousin, the Tan curve but lessons aren't learnt and the fall continues unhindered.

P.S The above "analysis" has been done considering only one cycle of the curves starting from zero to pi. Detailed analysis considering the curves till infinity would be very similar to the above ones except for the Tangent or the Cotangent curve which maybe equated with the life cycle of a casanova.