Inspirations (9 of 25) - Malcolm Gladwell

 

There are some that inspire in a very obvious manner.  Through powerful language or forceful actions, those people can set the tunes and make you dance to them.  There are others that make you listen to music that they listen to and find your inspiration to dance!  Malcolm Gladwell, journalist and author of four brilliant non-fiction books, falls squarely in the latter category.  He is an inspiration of mine because he has made me mull over things that I wouldn’t have thought of otherwise and has made me open my eyes to things that I wouldn’t have seen otherwise.

When I started to develop an interest in reading non-fiction, someone told me about Gladwell’s “Tipping Point.”  I read it out of curiosity.  When I finished the book, I didn’t feel like I had read anything special.  Sure, it had some interesting insights and lateral thoughts, my favorite being the one on graffiti in the New York public transportation system (It was about how the clean-up of the graffiti had a positive effect on reducing crimes since graffiti was a symbol of disorder that had found its way to our subconscious).  But I just said to myself, “That book was cool.  I’ll move on…”  I then happened upon a review of the book wherein the reviewer compared “Tipping Point” and another book of Gladwell’s – “Blink: The Power of Thinking without Thinking” – and how the latter was more focused on the self as opposed to “Tipping Point” which set its sights on the society around us.  I instantly knew that “Blink,” if well-written, would appeal to my sensibilities a lot more than “Tipping Point” did.  Well-written, it certainly was!  

“Blink” epitomized the intellectual curiosity of Gladwell in an amazing fashion.  While people driven solely by logical, linear thought will have a tough time appreciating the brilliance of “Blink,” those who are simply curious about why they do what they do will find “Blink” to be a treasure.  The thing about the book is that it actually makes us ask more questions than give us answers.  One of my favorite parts of the book is the story of an experienced firefighter who was in a burning house but was amidst fellow firefighters who couldn’t identify the source of the fire.  In a split second, he led the team immediately out of the room he was in, realizing that the source of the fire was actually in the basement.  In the blink of an eye, he connected the heat in the room with the absence of a visible source and concluded that the fire must be emanating from the basement.  The firefighter’s experience meant that his system was so intricately wired and so finely tuned.  As I was reading this section, I kept saying to myself that I must develop expertise in at least one area – be it in my vocation or my hobbies – where I enjoy the magic that a well-wired system can weave.  As I mentioned earlier, Gladwell didn’t pontificate about any of this; instead, he just made me ponder.

If “Blink” made me look inward, “Outliers” made me look up…to not only those outliers that transcend the ordinary but also the “ordinary” – be it the people or the environmental factors - that play a huge role in the lives of the outliers.  While we have all read fairytales about successful people whose guts, positive values and strength of character are all highlighted, it was “Outliers” that made me look beyond the obvious when it comes to successful people.  Be it the focus on spouses of late bloomers who have stood by them as they bloomed into something special to the benefits that kids who belong to the affluent strata of the society have (through things such as summer camps), the book places more importance on what extraneous factors successful people were blessed with than the innate abilities that they were endowed with.  In this aspect, “Outliers” made me realize that as I set goals for myself that I respect all the means that enable me to get to my ends.  

But “Outliers” was not just a collection of success stories.  It was also about why certain values in some settings are just off the charts.  For instance, there’s a very intriguing chapter on plane crashes in Korean airlines.  This chapter contains some unforgettable transcripts of conversations between pilots and ground personnel that caution us to the pitfalls of hierarchical systems and blind subordination, things that the second-in-line officers of Korean airlines exhibited with tragic consequences.  Gladwell writes about the concept of “power distance index,” a metric that reflects the virtual “distance” that exists between superiors and subordinates.  While we chuck up this to cultural differences (for instance, the US is a low power-distance index country while some Asian countries such as Korea or India are high power distance index nations), there is a time and a place for highly obedient subordination and the cockpit of a plane is not one!  Again, I would have never associated plane crashes with anything other than bad luck, bad weather or technical failure until Gladwell pointed it out!

After having read “Outliers” and “Blink,” I looked forward to Gladwell’s “What the Dog Saw” with a bit of trepidation since I knew that it was going to be tough for a book to match the brilliance of those two.  While “What the Dog Saw” – a collection of his articles that have appeared over the years in “The New Yorker” – is not in the same league, it was still a very engaging read because it further highlighted to me the sheer joys of delving into minutiae.  Nothing is too insignificant to evoke Gladwell’s curiosity and the book bears sparkling testimony to that.  In the book, several questions were asked, some answered, but everything was relished with the wide eyed wonder of a kid.  What is the difference between a puzzle and a mystery?  Should plagiarism of all sorts be taboo?  What separates choking from panicking?  All these and many more are explored in this book.  

My favorite chapter in the book was the last mentioned one: what separates choking from panicking?  Gladwell’s example of choking was Jana Novotna’s snatching-defeat-from-the-jaws-of-victory act against Steffi Graf in the final of Wimbledon ’93, a match that I vividly remembered watching on TV, sitting at the edge of my seat.  As I was reading this part, I was so glad that Gladwell helped me dissect the disintegration of Novotna as I witnessed her 20 years ago slide from a 4-1 lead in the final set to lose the game 4-6 to Graf.  Gladwell lucidly explains that while choking is failure of the most basic of instincts and involves thinking too much, panicking is the polar opposite – reverting to the most basic of instincts and thinking very little.  A scuba diver snatching his friend’s oxygen mask under water was the moment of “panic” that Gladwell wrote about.  Reading this chapter made me realize that I have mixed up the two terms quite often.  It also made me realize that I should be acutely aware – in times of stress or distress – whether I am choking or panicking, react accordingly and hopefully, avoid both!  Again, Gladwell didn’t say out loud, “Don’t choke or panic.  It’s bad for you!”  He just gave me the tools to help me introspect.

Looking back at my reading experiences, his books have essentially given me a plethora of small pleasures that I hope you got while reading one or more of his works.  And who knows, Gladwell might actually have made your mind go to places entirely different than mine.  That’s perfectly fine!  As I alluded to earlier, Gladwell just takes horses to uncharted waters; it’s up to them to drink in the pleasures!

Inspirations (8 of 25) – Imran Khan

The excited commentator hollered out, “Imran has struck again…Vengsarkar…” A few minutes later, he said the same thing...almost, except for the fact that the batsman's name was different: “Imran has struck again…Gavaskar…” Now, the commentator was clearly running out of words to describe the way the bowler was running through the much-vaunted Indian batting lineup. The scene was Sharjah in March 1985. The bowler was Imran Khan, one of my great inspirations. Pakistan had just been comprehensively defeated in the final of the 1985 World Championship of Cricket at Melbourne a few weeks prior to that. Still seething from the defeats in Australia, Imran Khan ran in like a man possessed to return sterling figures of 10-2-14-6 (Pakistan still managed to lose by 38 runs!). That was not the first time Imran conquered high quality opposition. That was certainly not the last time either.
Imran Khan was gifted. Naturally gifted. But the thing about Imran that impressed me the most was how he kept setting himself tall goals against the best of teams and how he sought to- through a tremendous work ethic and application- keep improving himself. For instance, bowling fast came naturally to him. But bowling reverse swing was something that he learned from fellow pacer Sarfraz Nawaz and used it to deadly effect. Hitting towering sixes came naturally to him. But batting in a technically perfect manner and dropping anchor when required were things that he developed over time.

 Imran, the Uber Talented Cricketer
Imran Khan’s career can be neatly divided into two parts. Pre-shin fracture and post-shin fracture. Prior to the shin fracture, Imran was a terrifyingly quick bowler who could also bat. As a captain, he was in the Kapil Dev mode of leading from the front through fine all-round displays but being distinctly uncomfortable when it came to motivating or helping his team members to fully realize their potential. In the 1982-83 series against India, he took 40 wickets at an average of 13. But his shin fracture meant that he could not bowl for the next two years. The early 30s are considered the maturing years of a cricketer. Between ages of 30 and 32, Imran could hardly bowl. But he came back with a vengeance and how! He led Pakistan to series wins in India and England in 1987 and while he shone with the bat against India, his magnificent spell won Pakistan the series at Headingley. Even as his bowling declined in the late eighties, he improved his batting tremendously and contributed one way or another. He would later lead Pakistan to victory in the Nehru Cup in 1989 and finally, the memorable 1992 World Cup. More on that in a bit…  

The sides of Imran that I don’t admire
Before I talk about how Imran has inspired me, let me first state that Imran had certain qualities that I did NOT admire. I state this because I think it is imperative that we sift out what we perceive as undesirable traits from leaders like Imran while taking the good stuff. I did not like the fact that he was ruthless as a captain. He would back his favorites like Abdul Qadir and Wasim Akram to the hilt but could be unreasonably obstinate and quickly dismissive of others whom he perceived as mediocre. While others may think of this ruthlessness as necessary to lead a disparate group of individuals, I believe in Susan Cain’s (author of the wonderful book, “Quiet”) concept of Asian soft power where you win people over and not beat them up. I also did not appreciate Imran’s “victory at any cost” attitude which was evident in the way he tampered with the ball (and later admitted to it in his autobiography!) to achieve reverse swing.

Imran, the Leader Nonpareil
There are three traits of Imran that I admire a lot –his self-belief, steely resolve in the face of adversity and the way he mentored his proteges. You had to take one look at his body language to know that he was completely sure of himself. He had absolutely no room for self-doubt, no time for people who had any doubts about themselves and no care for people who doubted him or his team! If that kind of confidence is infectious for an admirer like me, I can only imagine what an inspirational effect that it had on his team and what a chill it would have sent down the spine of his opposition. As a person who aspires to be a successful leader in the future, I have looked up to Imran for being completely sure of your abilities and not project even an iota of circumspection. Of course, there is a thin line between confidence and cockiness and I want to be keenly aware of that difference. But Imran’s confidence, which sometimes veered in the direction of cockiness, was something that you could not miss.

His self-belief also meant that as a leader he rarely believed that a game or a series was lost until it was actually lost. This was most evident in Pakistan’s proudest cricketing achievement – the 1992 World Cup victory. Mid-way through the tourney, you would have given Pakistan absolutely no chance. They had gotten only 3 points from 5 games and had to not only win the remaining three games but also had to have a couple of other games go a certain way. As Randy Pausch said it eloquently, “Luck is where preparation meets opportunity.” Sure, Pakistan had a fair share of luck, especially when West Indies lost their must-win game against Australia when chasing a manageable 216. But again, the “preparation” part of that quote was something that was entirely in Pakistan’s hands. They won against New Zealand in the last game which was no mean feat for NZ had come into the game after 7 consecutive wins. Imran, through his now famous “fight like cornered tigers” speech to his team, inspired his team when one would have thought that the return trip to Pakistan is what they would have had on their minds. Imran’s two pupils Inzamam ul Haq and Wasim Akram made telling contributions in the semi-final and final respectively to take Pakistan to their only (as of 2012) World Cup victory till date. In the final, when Allan Lamb and Neil Fairbrother had put on a superb 72-run partnership, Imran threw the ball to Wasim knowing that the latter could work reverse swinging magic with the old ball and what happened later is history. Wasim broke the back of England’s middle order by bowling Lamb and Chris Lewis off consecutive deliveries. Pakistan’s victory after that was just a formality.

As I mentioned in an earlier section, once he believed in someone’s ability, he would go to any lengths to back them. Qadir, Wasim, Waqar Younis and Mushtaq Ahmed all benefited from Imran’s backing and timely tips. I read that Imran once advised Qadir to sport a French beard to add to his aura and mystique as a mystery leg spinner before a tour of England! And, Wasim and Waqar have always waxed eloquent on how Imran – past his prime as a bowler – essentially helped them outthink the batsmen. So, even when he couldn’t bowl, Imran the captain would put on his bowler’s hat and guide his talented young bowlers who would follow his advice and see immediate results. Now that was a thinking captain!

So, there you have it- Imran was one who polarized opinion not always without reason. You could like him or hate him but there was no way you could ignore the fact that as a person and as a leader, he possessed and instilled a sense of belief that victory, despite any adversity, was always something to be chased, not just desired.

PS: As an aside, one of the encomiums that have been laid at the feet of Imran is the fact that under Imran’s leadership, Pakistan drew 3 consecutive series against the West Indies. While it is factually correct, what is seldom mentioned is that West Indies of the late 80s under Viv Richards - when Pakistan played and drew these series - was weaker than the West Indian juggernaut of the 70s and 80s led by Clive Lloyd (Lloyd, Andy Roberts, Joel Garner and Michael Holding had all retired by then).

Inspirations (7 of 25) - Kavignar Vaali

For me to write about Kavignar Vaali as an inspiration is akin to touching the tip of an iceberg and still be awestruck. I have neither read any of Vaali's literary works nor any of his poems outside of the movies. And, I may not have listened to many songs from his early years. But I have always had great respect and admiration for people who can express thoughts on relationships eloquently. Throw into the mix a person who can do so in beautiful Thamizh, I didn’t have to go beyond Mr. Rangarajan – more famously known as Vaali – for inspiration.

Ask anyone in Thamizh cinema their two favorite Thamizh lyricists in the past 30 years, you will get the answer, "Vairamuthu and Vaali." While I do like Vairamuthu's lyrics a lot, in my mind, there's one key difference that separates them – Vairamuthu is a master when it comes to describing nature ("Vaana MagaL NaanugiraaL Vaeru Udai PoonugiraaL") but it's Vaali that wins hands down when it comes to expressing through his lyrics the breadths and depths of relationships.


Please watch the video above before you read any further…

"Kanaa Kaanum" is one of the best examples of the sheer power and expressiveness of Vaali's pen. In just a few lines, he was able to convey the anguish and torment experienced by the heroine as well as the hope expressed by the hero. Four lines stand out for the beauty of the language:

Pudhiya Kavithai Punaiyum Kuyile Nenjil Undaana Kaayam Enna…
Ninaivu AlaigaL Nerupil Kulikum Paavam Enna…
Kizhaku Velukaamal Irukaadhu Vaanam…
Vidiyum NaaL Paarthu Iruppeney Naanum…

If you have seen "Agni Saatchi," you will agree that the first two lines perfectly describe the character of Saritha, a disturbed soul, haunted by horrible memories of her childhood, who pays the ultimate tribute to her idol Bharathiyar through creative poems. All of that captured in two lines! And, the next two lines point to the (sun) light that the protagonist sees at the end of the tunnel. Kudos to Vaali for those wonderful words and Thanks to K. Balachander for giving Vaali that "situation!" 

The other movie where I thought that he wrote the perfect lines for every situation given by the Director was "Mouna Raagam." "Nilaave Vaa," "Mandram Vandha Thendraluku" and "Chinna Chinna Vanna Kuyil" are all gems in their own right. One line from "Chinna Chinna…" is a favorite of mine for its brevity and deceptive simplicity– "Puriyaadha Anandham Pudhidhaaga Aarambam Poothaadum Thaen Mottu Naana Naana."

Director Myskhin once mentioned that good cinema has the ability to take control of and transport the viewer to the filmmaker's world. To Vaali's credit, he has been able to continually accomplish in five minutes the "transport" that Directors do in two plus hours. Through "Ellorum Sollum Paatu" and "Nalam Vaazha," Vaali showed how he could not only amaze people but also lift people through deeply profound lines about life and the different shades of relationships. A case in point is "Ellorum Sollum Paatu" from "Marupadiyum."

The first charanam of this song ("Naayagan Mel Irundhu Noolinai Aatuginraan Naam Ellaam Bommai Endru Naadagam Kaatuginraan…") is the stuff of legends. But there's a subtle nuance in the second paragraph that illustrates Vaali's genius. The moment Revathi's character decides to touch alcohol is accompanied by the line, "MayakkangaL Nervathillai Thelindhavar Nenjiley…" That is Vaali's genius for you.

One other thing about Vaali that I have always admired is his youthful spirit despite his advancing years (He's 80). The man who wrote, "Azhagu Oru Magic Touch, Aasai Oru Kadhal Switch" way back in 1964 has continued to stay in touch with times – "Musthafa Musthafa," "New York Nagaram" and "Thathai Thathai" are all testimonies to his ability to stay young. And, in spite of having written songs for 50 years and for similar situations in different movies, he has rarely been repetitive. Both "Amma Endrazhaikkatha" and "Kaalaiyil Thinamum" are two completely different yet equally lovely tributes to motherhood.

I realize that this write-up has conveyed more of my admiration and love for Vaali's lyrics more than how he has "inspired" me. But Merriam Webster defines "inspiring" as "having an animating or exalting effect." That is exactly what many of Vaali's lines do to me! Before I sign off, let me share with you a couple of lines from two of my favorite works of Vaali that always leave me animated and exalted:

Vaalibangall Odum Vayathaaga Koodum Aanalum Anbu Maarathathu…
Maalaiyidum Sondham Mudipoatta Bandham Pirivenum Sollaie Ariyaathathu…

En Usura Koodathaane En Nanban Kaetta Vaangikena Solluven…
En Nannban Poatta Soaru Dhinamum Thinnen Paaru... Natpai Kooda Karpai Poala Ennuven...

Thank you, Vaali, for serving as an inspiration in your own way.

Inspirations (6 of 25) - Vasanth

Disclaimer – This write-up is more about Director Vasanth as an inspiration of mine rather than a critique of his movies.

A son is having dinner with his aged parents. The lighting in the dining room has a bluish tinge to it, suggestive of the blues that the family is going through but doesn’t always speak of. The father and son joke about how the dinner from the "carrier meals" person has a papad, supposed to be crunchy, that can be torn like paper! The mother meanwhile presents a glum look, upset about the fact that the girl that her son, a widower of five years, was interested in has disappeared without a trace. The son places his hands around his mother lovingly and says that it is her health that is of utmost importance to him. The mother slowly turns towards him and says, "Romba Nalla Paiyyan Paa Nee…Unaku Innum Konjam Nalladhu Nadakalaam." The son, without saying a word, pats her gently on her shoulder, walks to the restroom, looks into the mirror and says to himself, "Irundhaalum Poren-nu Oru Vaarthai Chitra Sollitu Poirukalaam…Illiya Mr. Karthikeyan?"

CUT…back to reality!

Now, that was the moment when I realized that in movies, something could be restrained yet incredibly powerful. There is a concept in filmmaking called mise-en-scene, where different elements of a scene have to come together to create the right mood. This was a term that I learned in a film analysis class that I took in my sophomore year in 1999. It was a year-and-a-half later when I watched this scene from that quiet, touching tale of love and loss that "Rhythm" is, that I experienced it. I had become quite the movie buff by the late 90s. Kamal Hassan routinely took me on sojourns into worlds that he created with his splendid acting. But Vasanth, as I realized with "Rhythm," was one that brought his worlds to me. The scene I've tried to describe above was the moment where I started to believe in realistic storytelling. As I've learned by watching movies over the years, presenting a slice of life is a lot more difficult than entertaining the audience. Mainly because our filmmakers either feel the need to spoon feed emotions so that we "get" them or find the urge to make "commercial" compromises too hard to resist.

I digress a little. This is about how Director Vasanth has "inspired" me. No, wait – I didn’t digress. Making me think about realistic cinema is inspiration in itself. Appreciation of an art form is an art in itself. Talk to Vasanth for a few minutes and you will see an erudite film critic lurking inside. I once had a conversation with him about "Kudaikkull Mazhai" that was as entertaining as a conversation about a movie can be. It helped that he thought it was trash and I thought it was a classic! So, how did I get to know the Director well?

Let's go back one more time to that scene. So, having been stunned by the power of such a quiet, beautiful moment, I watched the rest of the movie. And, I knew that I had watched something special. It stayed with me for quite sometime. I had watched the Director's earlier efforts and I knew about his checkered track record. While "Keladi Kanmani" "Aasai" and the first "Paadhi" (!) of "Nee Paadhi Naan Paadhi" impressed me a lot, "Rhythm" to me was something more. Serendipity, in the form of my Aunt Rekha, struck the next time I was in India in 2002. I happened to recollect a conversation with her wherein she'd mentioned visiting the sets of "Aasai." So, I asked if she could introduce me to Vasanth. She was kind enough to request her husband, my Uncle Hari, to do so. He then scheduled for us to meet Vasanth at the now defunct Drive-In. In my first meeting with Vasanth, what struck me was how the way he spoke was so close to the dialogues he wrote! I spoke to him about my love for "Rhythm" and at the end of the meeting, we had another one lined up…for the next day. He requested me to write about 10 movies that I had particularly enjoyed and to give it to him at our next meeting. So, I dutifully worked on my "assignment" and at the next meeting, I opened up a little more. I told him about the things in his films that I didn’t like because I felt he should know my honest responses. But to tell a Director that you don’t like a film of his is like telling a parent that you don’t think his or her baby is cute. But nevertheless, I think he appreciated my honesty, for I have had the pleasure of his friendship for nine years now.

There are two things that I have learned from him – dedication and resilience. He is a Director who absolutely loves his craft. An uncompromising auteur, his films are a study in the auteur theory that a film's Director should get the lion's share of the criticism, positive or negative. Study his films closely and you will see that pretty much all of the praise or the blame can be laid at his feet. If "Rhythm" boasted of a slew of lovely moments that moved the viewer, his screenplay for the concluding portions of "Ey! Nee Romba Azhagaa Irukkey" was the primary reason for its lackluster response. I say this to emphasize the fact that all his films bear the stamp of his vision. And to do so requires an uncompromising quest for perfection and unwavering dedication to one's vision, both of which Vasanth possesses aplenty.

Also, if you read the reviews of his films, you will find several mentions of impressive performances – even "Nee Paathi Naan Paathi," a critical and commercial failure, fetched Gowthami an award. But dig deeper, you will find that it is thanks to some exceptional characterizations that the actors have gotten the laurels that came their way. Prakash Raj's star turn in "Aasai" and Padmapriya's sensitive portrayal in "Sathum Podaathey" come to mind. It goes to show that the creator infuses life into his creations and trusts the audiences to respond without coming in their way.

I have written about how Vasanth has made me respect and cherish realistic cinema through his own dedication. I also mentioned resilience - having known him personally for the best part of a decade and having listened to the hardships that he had endured to bring his films to screen – at least four of his films dragged their feet for more than a year in their making due to financial or other obstacles – it has been motivational for me whenever something happens that makes me think, "Oh, that’s just unfair." He has met with critical successes, commercial failures and aborted projects and yet with steely nerves, he has bounced back time and again. The sine wave that he has gone through since "Keladi Kanmani" (released in 1990) could be the subject of a case study on resilience.

Vasanth will continue to make movies, some of which may become classics. Others might not. But I will always have "Rhythm."

Inspirations (5 of 25) - Randy Pausch

If one video can make an indelible impact on a person’s outlook towards life and if one piece of literature could change a person’s life for the better, it has to be Randy Pausch’s “The Last Lecture” and its companion piece, the book of the same title. Randy, a Carnegie Mellon Computer Science professor, succumbed to the dreaded pancreatic cancer in 2008, leaving behind his wife and three very young children. Here was a great man who, as he went deeper into the dark tunnel that is pancreatic cancer, shed a tremendous amount of light on the preciousness of the boon that is life. If you think that that’s hyperbole, let me ask you to stop reading and watch this video if you haven’t already done so. You can resume reading if you think you’d like to know how it changed my life.



Kicking self-pity and sadness out of the equation, Randy peppered his lecture and his book with plenty of stories that were primarily about how his accomplishments were rooted in his childhood dreams. How he encountered brick walls (one of his gems – “Brick walls are there for a reason: they let us prove how badly we want things”) and worked hard towards realizing his dreams. Among his dreams were to become a Disney Imagineer, which he did, and to play in the NFL, which he didn’t. Even in the case of the latter, he talks about how much he learned from just taking the game seriously and working hard at it (“Experience is what you get when you don’t get what you wanted”). To Randy, everything in life was yet another “experience” that as a scientist, he would treat with an analytical frame of mind…everything, including cancer where he went through the most brutal of treatments to “buy some more time.”

One recurring theme in his lecture and book is the importance of people in his life. His relationships with his wife (“…a person whose happiness means more than mine”), parents (“I won the parent lottery”), mentor (who changed him in his undergrad years with one terrific line about arrogance-“Randy, it’s such a shame you are perceived as being arrogant; it’s going to limit what you will be able to accomplish in life”) and even his students (he took 15 of them on a trip to Disney after he got tenure, all expenses out of his pocket) all point to a person who valued people and was ever willing to learn his life lessons from them, while subconsciously imparting a few of his own.

Making Every Day Count

One of the biggest ways in which Randy has inspired me is to focus on things that I can control. His line, “You cannot change the cards you’re dealt, just how you play the hand” is something that I have pasted on my office desk in a prominent place so that whenever I feel like things are spiraling out of control for some reason, I can block out everything else and focus on what I can work on to improve the situation. When I look at that quote, I also think of the circumstances in which he gave the lecture. A dying 47-year old man and a father of three, all of whom were less than six, exudes such positivity and says, “I’m dying and I’m having fun. And I’m going to keep having fun every day I have left. Because there’s no other way to play it.” I say to myself, “If he could find joy in life, then we all jolly well can and should.” Looking back, I feel that I’ve followed his words more in a professional setting than in my personal life and it is something that I consider as an area of personal development. But as I’ve always maintained, what matters is that we keep trying.

Another area where I sincerely feel that I’ve changed thanks to Randy is to push myself out of comfort zones and explore virgin territories. Perhaps the “brick walls” quote has found its way to my subconscious! But I’ve found myself willing to try harder to get things while giving utmost respect to people because there's a line that separates a go-getter from a selfish, persistent person. A case in point was the effort that I put in to meet Dr. Sheena Iyengar, the author of a book that has also inspired me immensely. Before reading Randy’s book, I might’ve stayed content with a letter of appreciation to Dr. Iyengar. But her book was something that had such a tremendous impact on me that I felt that I should do more than just send a nice e-mail. And I was absolutely delighted (even if a tad nervous!) when I finally got a chance to meet her in person and let her know what I thought of the book.

Speaking at the CMU graduation two months before passing away, Randy said, “You don’t beat the Grim Reaper by living longer; you beat the Grim Reaper by living well.” The best possible tribute that we can pay to a person like Randy would be to live our lives well, to treat each dawn as a new beginning, put our heart and soul into what we do and most importantly, place our loved ones above everything else. The rest of the stuff will all take care of itself. How do I know for sure? Because in Randy's case, it was the Grim Reaper that lost.

Inspirations (4 of 25) - Krish Srikkanth

Andy Roberts and menace were like Siamese twins. The great West Indian pace bowler not only sent down extremely quick deliveries but also chills down the spine of many a batsman. In 1983, he was not as quick as he was in the 70s but was still a very nasty proposition to handle. In the 1983 World Cup final, on a bowler friendly Lord's wicket, he, along with the equally devastating Joel Garner, was creating hell for the Indian batsmen. Having dismissed the great Sunil Gavaskar early on, Roberts must have fancied his chances against Gavaskar's less technically correct partner. But Krishnamachari Srikkanth (or Cheeka, as he is affectionately known) had other ideas. In fact, he only had one idea - go after the bowling. And, he did that in such belligerent fashion that spectators must have wondered whether he was playing on a different wicket. He cut, drove, pulled and hooked Roberts, Garner and Michael Holding with a complete lack of fear. But one stroke stood out. And, it rightfully found its place in the annals of Indian cricket - the square drive off Roberts. The quick reflexes and the hand-eye coordination that he had in his youth were in full flow in this magnificent shot off a fantastic pace bowler. That lack of fear, the sheer joy of playing attacking cricket and the love that he had for his team and the game are all what made Cheeka one of my cricketing heroes.

Cheeka, The Entertainer - No place for fear

I'll wager a bet that when Cheeka came into the Indian team in 1981, he must have made Gavaskar think, "If I can only play like him and score the amount of runs that I score, I'll have a lot more fun!" Gavaskar was a model of perfection. His technical correctness, his unwavering concentration and his insatiable appetite to occupy the crease for long hours made him the rock of the Indian batting line-up for 16 years. But at the other end was someone who was as much of a contrast to Gavaskar as night is to day. Cheeka was not exactly copybook, he could easily get distracted and to him the way he made runs was more important than the number of runs he made. Try anything else different, he would fail. It was very rare that Cheeka would take too much time to get his eye in. It was either his day or it wasn't. As Ravi Shastri recently said of him, "No half measures!" Study Cheeka's scores and you will find that if he didn't get going in his initial few overs, he would end up with scores like 5 off 39 balls! But on days like the aforementioned 1983 World Cup final, he was unstoppable by anyone...except himself!

To me and many of his fans, Cheeka's appeal was not about making mountains of runs consistently over long periods of time. Rather, it was his carefree approach to the game that drew people towards him and his game. Cricket, being the unifying religion it is to Indians, can bring a lot of joy to people and Cheeka's cavalier, almost reckless approach, was one such source of joy. His enjoyment of the game was thoroughly infectious. Watch the videos of his 50s or 100s and you'll find him routinely smiling in a goofy manner at bowlers that he would've just smashed out of the park. It was extremely rare that he engaged in a war of words with the opposition fielders either. I wouldn't have been surprised if he was saying to them, "Hey, wasn't that a good shot?!" Sure, he could exasperate you by playing a premeditated slog and getting out to a mediocre bowler. But such was the affection that he enjoyed amongst his fans that they would throng the stadiums to watch him play in the hope that he would click that day, even if briefly.

Of all the innings that Cheeka has played, the one that has given me maximum pleasure even on repeated viewings is the one that even he regards as the finest ODI innings he has played - his 57 against England in the 1985 World Championship of Cricket. One of those days when he was timing the ball extremely well, the innings is filled with glorious strokes. A thoroughly entertained Richie Benaud described him as "the guy who's just flinging his bat and doing it with such skill!" His lofted off-drive off Richard Ellison is, even now after 26 years, a sight to behold.

As with Sachin, one of the things about Cheeka that I really admired was the respect that he had for his fans. When he played in Chennai, it was customary for him to raise his bat to the D stand after he reached 50 because they supported him to the hilt from his younger days. During and after his playing days, he has always been casual and down-to-earth with fans of the game, for he knows that the game is played for them. That realization is something that is lost on many players but it is that realization that has always kept Cheeka humble and grounded.

Cheeka, The Inspiration - No place for "masks"

I've always liked Cheeka as a player and as a person (I've had the pleasure of knowing him from my early teens). But one line that Harsha Bhogle wrote of Cheeka in his biography of Azhar is the reason why he figures among my "inspirations." Talking of Cheeka's brief stint as captain of India in the 1989-90 season, Bhogle wrote, "As a captain and as a person, he never wore a mask and you always knew where you stood with him." I find that to be one of the most inspirational things ever said of a leader. And, it is a testament to Cheeka's personable nature that in spite of his very short stint as the captain of India, he is regarded by Kapil Dev as the best captain that Dev has played under. That line of Bhogle's is one that always rings in my mind whenever I think of fostering a sense of belonging within the team that I work for, even if I am not the leader. Cheeka's transparency, honesty and the regard he had for his fellow players must have been just a natural extension of his personality. And, it is indeed sad to note that the ugly face of cricket politics reared its head to cut short his stint as captain. That he failed with the bat on the tour of Pakistan gave the selectors an easy excuse to sack him.

He made a comeback after almost two years and played some fine innings in the 1991-92 World Series Cricket tournament. But his failures in the Test series against Australia and the 1992 World Cup hastened his exit from the game. What he might have achieved had he had an extended run as captain in the early 1990s is a matter of conjecture. But what is for sure is that he would have backed his players to the hilt and would have gone any lengths to give them the impression that nothing could "mask" his innate transparency. That wonderful quality of his is what has inspired me the most.

Giving Back to the Game

After his retirement, Cheeka has been associated with the game in many ways. While he has never garnered too much praise as a commentator, his work with the next generation in varied roles, be it as a coach or selector, has been stellar. He maintains the same forthright, no-nonsense approach that he had as a player and it has been a matter of great pride to him that as the current Chairman of the Indian selection committee, he has seen India lift the World Cup again after 28 years. As an ardent cricket lover, it is great to have a selector who doesn't regard himself as bigger than the game and instead, just looks to pick the best side and finds happiness in their successes. And, it is equally gratifying to note that one of my cricketing idols retains that youthful zest that he had for the game 25 years ago. And, along the way, he has taught me a thing or two about being a leader of men.

PS: Here're some highlights from his brilliant 116 at Sydney (1985-86)

Inspirations (3 of 25) – Kamal Hassan

There are very few people who draw people not only towards themselves but also towards what they do. A Sachin Tendulkar can make everyone from a maid servant to a millionaire talk of the cricket World Cup win as a personal achievement. Similarly, Kamal Hassan is an actor who has made me not only enjoy and admire his work but also made me appreciate cinema as an art form. And, thanks to his stellar work in so many movies that form a part of his illustrious oeuvre, he has shown me the power of cinema to lift people from their worlds, transport them to another and make them laugh, cry, think…basically, every emotion that he wants them to experience. In a way, I am a willing puppet in his hands when I watch a movie of his.

The Initial Years (1973-1982) - Two Inspirations, Four Great Roles

It is common knowledge that it was K. Balachander's "moadhara kai" that gave Kamal the "kottu." What is not that well-known except for hardcore fans is that it was the late Anathu (an associate and confidante of KB) that kept pushing Kamal in his early years and made sure that his raw energy and abundant, innate talent was channelized through strong, varied and well-written roles. Encouraging Kamal to be a thinking actor, Ananthu made Kamal watch international movies and got him interested in the making of movies right from scripting to production. The respect that Kamal and Rajnikanth had for Ananthu was evident in how they acted in a truly experimental film like "Avall Appadithaan," an underrated classic, at Ananthu's behest.

To me, there were four movies that were released even before Kamal turned 30 that I checked out years later (since I wasn’t even born at the time of their release!) that give us initial glimpses of the fantastic actor that he is now.

The first of which is the well-known "16 Vayathinile" were he played a village simpleton with unfettered energy and scant regard for his image as a good-looking hero. His great performance as Chappani boasts of several unforgettable scenes, the most memorable of which are the "Aatha Aadu Valathuchu…" scene and the sequence where he (wearing a piece of loin cloth and nothing else!) vents his anger against the Doctor that Sridevi is attracted to.

The second is "Avargall" where he acted as Janardhanan (more well-known as Johnny), a do-gooder who helps Sujatha recover from a bad first marriage. He learned ventriloquism for this KB drama, an early example of his desire to bring something extra to his roles. But his best moment in this movie had nothing to do with this skill. Watch him in the scene where he says to Sujatha, "KaadhalNiraivu Kodukara Sandhoshatha Vida Kaadhal Ninaivu Kodukara Sandhosham Adhigam." Sheer genius at work!

Two of my other favorites from his initial years are "Raja Paarvai" and "Moondram Pirai." The former was a landmark movie…only for ardent fans of cinema. Consider this. It was a flop at the box office and won no major awards at the time of its release. Yet, like "Avall Appadithaan" and many more of his movies to come, it was a case of Kamal daring to venture into completely virgin territory with no fear whatsoever. His first home production, "Raja Paarvai" was an attempt at a romance that was so far away from the trends of that day that it won him the hearts of a small but loyal audience. To me, it is the sweetest romance of Thamizh cinema, a movie that is content with letting us spend time with two lovers, hopelessly in love with each other. The entire sequence which takes place on his birthday is one for the Gods! His feelings of hurt at being insulted by Madhavi's parents, his tenderness with the little girl at the Blind School, his anger at Madhavi for trying to console him and his subsequent reactions to her genuine expression of love all are enacted with a kind of subtlety and minimalism that was way ahead of Tamil Cinema's acting grammar of that day. The power of this subtlety was exploited to the hilt by Balu Mahendra in his "Moondraam Pirai" for which Kamal won the National Award. His fabulous performance in the climax is known to have fetched him the award but other small scenes such as the one where he goes in search for Sridevi and kneels down in front of a roadside Pillaiyaar and his expressions in the "Kanney Kalaimaaney" song are all small gems in their own right.

The Uncertain Phase (1982-1987)…and the Comeback

There was a period following the stupendous success of "Ek Duje Ke Liye" when Kamal shifted his focus to Hindi cinema. But a combination of long shooting schedules, underperforming movies and poorly written roles (except maybe "Saagar") all made his association with Hindi cinema a short-lived one. Though he did appear in hits like "Kaaki Chattai," "Oru Kaidhiyin Diary" and "Punnagai Mannan," these years in the mid-eighties were what Kamal considers his stagnation phase. "Saagara Sangamam" (dubbed in Thamizh as "Salangai Oli") was an exception- an exceptional movie that combined his Bharatanatyam skills and acting talent in a terrific way. Go no further than the scene where Kamal shows SP Shailaja (and us!) what graceful dancing is all about.

After the years of discontent and frustration, Kamal made a magnificent comeback with "Nayagan," a performance that left people stunned, speechless and made him hit a peak as an actor that some think that even he hasn’t scaled again (something that I humbly disagree with!). His performance as Velu Nayakar has to be seen and experienced to be believed. In humanizing the character of the Don, he and Mani Ratnam combined forces to make one of the most riveting character dramas of all time. Kamal, with his acting prowess, grabs us from his first scene and we stay with him right up to the climax. There are too many fantastic scenes to list but if I were to pick one, it would be the "Avana Nirutha Sol…Naan Nirutharen" scene. The way he goes into a fit of rage seeing his daughter slap his Man Friday (played superbly by Janakaraj) and his attempts to explain himself are moments when the dialogues, acting, cinematography and direction are all in perfect harmony. Of course, no mention of "Nayagan" is complete without the scene of Kamal's reaction to Nizhalgal Ravi's death. A picture's worth a 1000 words, they say. This video is worth a lot more! Watch. Admire. Salute (3:30 min point)



For the Love of Cinema (1987-Present)
Post "Nayagan," Kamal grew in confidence to such an extent that he would go on to make movies with a kind of headlong momentum, frequently taking on multiple responsibilities such as writer, singer and lyricist and experimenting obsessively with make-up. Sometimes, he would win awards and box-office success. Sometimes, he would crash, burn and then rise like a phoenix. This complete unpredictability has made him a fascinating actor to follow.

He has made, through a hugely successful collaboration with playwright "Crazy" Mohan, commercially successful entertainers like "Aboorva Sahodharargall," where he played a dwarf with effortless ease and the zany, comedy classic "Michael Madhana Kamarajan," where the four roles, especially the Palghat cook Kameshwaran, and the smartness of the screenplay give us belly laughs even now. But at the end of the day, Kamal makes films to try and satiate his insatiable creative urges. The commercial movies and comedies are to keep the cash registers ringing so that he can go back to making the kinds of movies he wants to make. The following are two good examples:

In 1992, he acted in "Singaravelan," a light, mindless and harmless comedy. A few months later, he followed it up with "Devar Magan," one of the best movies ever made. People call "Nayagan" an adaptation of "The Godfather," which it is. "Devar Magan" was his homage, as a writer, to his idol, Mario Puzo. The movie takes the structure of "The Godfather" and takes the father-son relationship to a memorable level, thanks to the powerhouse performances of him and Sivaji Ganesan. Kamal, a huge fan of Ganesan, made only this one movie with the latter but it's amazing to think how much the duo achieved in such limited screen time together. This scene, with the two greats, is probably the best possible demonstration of controlled histrionics:



The other example is from 2002-03. Following the commercial disaster of "Hey! Ram" Kamal ventured into movies that were meant to earn him some box-office success. To this extent, he made some middling comedies like "Thenali," "PKS" and "Panchathanthiram." But after the last two mentioned movies were made in 2002, he was desperate to make a movie that required his acting chops more than comic sense. And, the result was "Anbe Sivam." Featuring one of his greatest performances as an actor, the film, with his understated, casual acting and a slew of quotable lines by Cartoonist Madan, will go down as yet another instance of the viewing public giving a raw deal to Kamal (the movie was a colossal failure at the box office). But Kamal has bounced back from too many movies of this kind to be bogged down.

I've written about several memorable roles essayed by Kamal. But if I were asked to list one movie where I laughed when Kamal laughed and cried and when he cried, it has to be "Mahanadhi." The thing that made "Mahanadhi" even more hard hitting on a personal level than "Nayagan" or "Devar Magan" was how down to earth Kamal's role was. The acting, the situations and the dialogues were all extraordinary yet touching a chord with their complete believability. Kamal's performance in the scene below is one instance of what I meant by my "puppet" comment in the first paragraph (4:15 min point)



Great as an actor. As a creator?

I must mention that I admire Kamal, the actor a lot more than Kamal, the writer. Inspired by his close friend RC Sakthi, Kamal took writing seriously even in his early days and has written some magnificent scripts such as the aforementioned "Devar Magan" and "Anbe Sivam." But some of his stories and screenplays are either heavily derived from English movies or are lacking in tautness. While "Aboorva Sahodarargall" and "MMKR" had fantastic, intelligent screenplays, his work in "Aalavandhan" and "Manmadhan Ambu" left a lot to be desired.

As a dialogue writer, Kamal can range from brilliant to bizarre, from incisive to trite. His dialogues in "Devar Magan" are the stuff of legends. But his overuse of English in movies like "Hey! Ram" have definitely made him appeal to niche audiences and alienate the rest. But as a Director, Kamal dazzled us with "Hey! Ram" and "Virumaandi," exhibiting complete command over the medium and coming up with sparkling touches that would have made KB proud. A case in point is the flash forward in "Hey! Ram" from the wild elephant on the streets of Calcutta to the scene in Srirangam with the "Padham Kondu Nadathum…" verse in the background which also talks about a wild one without a mahout.

Final Thoughts

It was in the 90s, in my late teens, when I watched "Nayagan" once and I stopped being just a fan of movies and became an admirer of him, his work and as I said earlier, began to appreciate cinema as an art form. That was when I started not only watching movies but also analyzing them, writing reviews and doing things like reaching out to Director Vasanth (through my Aunt) because I thought "Rhythm" was a great film and that the creator should know that I thought so! To this day, I strongly feel that a serious movie watcher does not get nearly as much respect as an avid reader but being a fan of Kamal, I am of the belief that I should do what I believe in and am passionate about and not worry too much about what people think.

That is Kamal for you – a tremendously gifted actor who follows his convictions and expects us to come along. The gains from this "journey" with Kamal have been plenty. Thank you, Kamal, for making me love cinema the way you do!

PS: In 2007, my dream of meeting Kamal was realized, thanks to "Crazy" Mohan (my wife's Uncle), who took me to AVM Studios to meet him. My friend Balaji has a nice write-up on the meeting: http://bbthots.blogspot.com/2007/08/hey-ram-extended-version.html