Blue—always induces emotion, doesn’t it? You’re gaping at the sky pretty pointlessly, you experience serenity. You ballistically charge into a spotlessly clean swimming pool, there is thrill there. Watch a blue film alone at home (open eyed, mind you…no point otherwise) there is thrill (for some) there too. So what’s it with Blue that arouses some feeling in us or the other? What aayudham (yes, it’s time I paid some attention to ameliorating my Telugu) does it boast of hosting in its repertoire that breaks the mundanity of the emotionless you and gives you something worth cherishing?
While we take time figuring out that senseless bit of trivia, let me take you back to Jan 30th, even if the memories of that Melbourne night make you feel like rendering your monitor unrecognizable right now. Once again, for the 19th time in a row, Roger Federer played an exemplary Grand Slam. Even the staunchest of his detractors would have to submit to the consistency exhibited by the great man all these years. To even trivially dismiss the remarkable feat as a ‘routine event’ would be equivalent to robbing the achievement of a lot of pedigree. It’s customary of course to see him in the final of any and every Grand Slam but to win so many of them on such a consistent basis against such quality opponents obviously in the best run of their careers is the hallmark of an incomparable champion. A quarterfinal triumph against a red-hot Nikolay Davydenko looked impossible even in the eyes of analysts with acumen and enthusiasts with optimism. And it looked improbable for the scorers too for a set and a half! Roger Federer played the remainder of the match and, well, we know what transpired. Interesting also to note Federer called the AO final ‘one of the best performances in the recent past’. Was it really? I think so. Andy Murray, though this might’ve received contrary views, played a very good match for a second Grand Slam final facing the best player in the world at the other side of the net. Hitting the ball as sweetly as the delicacies of the vintage strawberry and milk back home, Andy did have a decent chance to upset Roger that night. Juan Martin Del Potro did it on a boisterous New York night. But the pressure on young Andy exponentiated to levels the Scot couldn’t take. The expectation of being the ‘First Brit in 150000 years to win a Grand Slam’( as articulated to catcalls by Federer!) besides having to counter Roger Federer in a Grand Slam final is a little too much to handle. Beyond a point, there is nothing to add about Roger Federer. What else can you possibly hail about him? It’s all done! A copy-paste of previous articles would do, if you happen to earn a living as a Sports Journo. The Australian Open, on the whole, was one of the most competitive Grand Slams we’ve seen in a very long time, the main reason for that being the number of pulsating five set thrillers we’ve had all tournament, seen particularly in the Men’s draw. What was disheartening to watch, however, was the quarterfinal match-up between Murray and Nadal, where the former made mincemeat of the latter in just a couple of sets following which the spectacularly agile Spaniard’s knees spelled doom yet again. He may be the fittest on the tour by a large margin, but with the number of tournaments he plays every year, his ‘fitness’ is adversely vitiated by fatigue. Either he’s a little too desperate to snatch away the Number One ranking from Roger or is just too enthralled by the prospect of playing and winning more matches and tournaments than anybody else in his league—either ways, his poor idea has backfired to tremendous effect. Last year’s French Open, Wimbledon, US Open and now this Australian Open setting a woefully wrong predicate for aspiring tennis stars across the world. As a result of his long drawn out calendars, he’s paid a heavy price in the last 12 months spiraling straight down South from being the World Number 1 to World Number 4, besides not even making the finals of the four Grand Slams. A fitness advisor then is desperately the need of the moment for an exceptionally gifted sportsman.
Moving on to the perennially interesting subject for everybody—male or female, young or old, gay or straight, capitalist or communist—Films. Well, the Academy Awards aren’t far away and the competition this time around for Best Picture is real competition. Avatar, The Hurt Locker and Inglourious Basterds—are all exceptional films in their respective genres. I’d raise my beer to Avatar. For two simple reasons a) Pathbreaking dimensions the film introduced to the world of film making b) A never-before, once-in-a-lifetime experience it offers. Quite unanimously, it is ‘a definitive cinematic event of our generation’. When you get a rare film like this that throws up so much ‘revolutionary originality’ (the increasing need for introduction of innovative terms to describe wonder-transcending masterpieces has arrived) you’ve got to give it its due reward, for it will be an indubitable trend-setter for ages to come. You might argue you’ve seen better films than Avatar of late, but I bet my iPod you haven’t ever seen a film LIKE Avatar.
Yeah, speaking of my aqua-reminiscent iPod, forget that I’m betting on it! No, it’s way too much of a precious jewel to bet upon. It’s made its way royally into my life and my word, it is a wonder gizmo. When devices of such advanced, superlative quality place themselves in your ownership, it’s something else. Totally. The Nano shoots unbelievably high quality video, plays music in unparalleled audio quality, lets you watch movies in equally first-rate picture clarity, and the novicial Pedometer feature (contrary to nomenclature, it does not abuse the innocence of children) is a custodian of all your workout, fitness-crazy sessions. Okay, let me get this straight, I ain’t advertising here. I hope you understand that one in my kind of a position simply cannot resist showing off!
Right. Blue. What’s so strikingly special about it? (besides it being my favourite colour?!) Yeah, it’s the name of a flop movie, one of the worst last year. The sky is blue, water is supposed to be blue in colour too, with due respect to kindergarten text books. No, forget the analysis. It’s my favourite colour anyway. Reminds me eerily too about Nymphs and their well, let’s say, the latest allurements in my life. Yeah, let’s say goodbye on that(er…) extraordinarily heartwarming note!
3 comments:
i've got ann irrelevant question....u actually bother to read the telugu textbook????
an*
Not with the eye of a hawk. But have to.
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