Rajini: Converting Fans of All Ages.

Before leaving to Singapore for further medical treatment, a frail sounding actor Rajinikanth issued a voice message to his fans, saying he’d be back, blah, blah, blah. But the most interesting part of the message was that he’s baffled by the amount of love poured by his fans.

Frankly, Rajini may remember his pals from the bus conductor days, still love and respect brother, and the rugged childhood he grew up into, but he certainly forgot how he rose as a star and became not just an idol, but a family member in the households of many south Indians or those of that origin all around the world. Not to mention a bunch of Japanese. But they are weird, so let’s leave them out of the equation for now.

When he first appeared in a supporting role Apoorva Raganggal, he was just another guy in torn jacket who dies standing. When he appeared as sadistic anti-hero in Moondru Mudichu who’s responsible for Kamal’s death, he already made a three year old boy cry. I still remember the tears. Then, he went on, appearing in one film after another, building fanbase, converting nay-sayers and fair-skin worshippers, appearing with other stars and conquering their fans, moving forward shoulder to shoulder with his buddy/rival Kamal, till the Tamizh film fans, which has lost MGR to politics, and endorsed a brilliant actor called Sivaji Ganesan to wear silly wigs and sillier costumes, realised that these two are a force to reckon with.

While Rajini proved that he can be a damned good actor if he damned well pleases, he was more concentrating on crowd pleasing stuff. Armed with cigarette flipping gimmick that nobody got tired of for decades, he created the orphaned illiterate persona that takes on big guns. An underdog bent on avenging his murdered parents, sister, brother, buddy (restricted to human being, though he spent an entire movie chasing after a baby elephant not for retribution purpose).

That’s the image of late 70s early 80s Rajini – his teeth bared to express intense displeasure of having kick bad guys ass again, messy hair showing life does not warrant time to go to the hair saloon, simple costume when who needs fashion when it’s going to be splattered red. Needless to say, males of his age then (20s/30s) were his biggest fans when they are not picking fights with the Kamal fans of the same demography.

Post marriage (1980) Rajini was slowly shedding off the “I am an angry orphan, hear me roar” image to something more family friendly. Though there were comedy sidekicks in his movie, comedy became his sidekick. It was his dagger when he was not blowing the shotgun. His costume got better, his hair a lot more in place and he smiled a lot. Killing bad guys was no longer a major pre-occupation. His characters accept challenges like living as a simpleton in a village, or to convert a woman into queen. He occasionally goes back to his root like going vigilante in Nan Sigappu Manithan or though once, he let go of a bad guy in the end of Kai Kodukkum Kai (at the same climax a bull killed another bad guy in what may be termed as a separate incident). With brilliant composer Ilayaraja’s backing, he gets to mouth many beautiful melodious songs and that won many music fans.

Female fans who are deeply disturbed by Kamal’s penchant to do mouth to mouth rescucitation with conscious heroines, took to Rajini as their ideal hero. Still, kids were torn between the two, with my family sticking firmly to Kamal. We had a great time making fun of Rajini, whatever foible he had then, picking up fights with his fans, especially those who are smaller. I still do that with my hardcore Rajini fan wife.

Towards late 80s, Rajini parted his hair in the middle, perhaps symbolically as he took dual acting assignments, one in Tamizh, and another in Hindi film, which may have contributed a lot to the amnesia that he was fine actor. Suddenly my brothers and I, hardcore Kamal fans then, started to grudgingly admire him. I suppose this happened to Kamal fans of that time elsewhere too. Admit it, Rajini is not going to win an Oscar anytime soon, but dammit he does have something in him doesn’t he.

By this time, his smile has become more charming. The everyday man look has evolved into a manly handsome matinee mug. His urgent style of walking was included in his “style” list. He started mouthing searing dialogues, the way Eastwood would do with his .44s. He even can manage few easy steps of dancing. And his comedic skill, most of all, won us. And he was really working on it in the late 80s shitty films like Panakkaran, Siva or Dharmattin Talaivan which we watched repeatedly for his comic antics. He’s no threat against the post Nayagan Kamal. We can always go to two theatres, or rent two VHS tapes.

As he entered the 90s, he took last few shots in the dramatics; beating the crap out of his brothers with teary eyes in Dharma Dhurai; making sacrifices for his buddy in Thalabathi; refusing to be henpecked in Mannan and willing to be totally in white traditional garb in Ejamaan. His biggest break, as if he needed one, came when he played a don in Badsha. Till then, my dad, an MGR fanatic and hardcore Kamal fan, broke down and pledged loyalty to Rajini. Imagine what it would have done to the others. His fans are now everywhere. A year later, a bunch of Japanese took to liking Muthu and retitled it Dancing Maharaja. That’s like retitling Nayagan as Singing Godfather.

What followed was lazy foray into occasional acting gigs with scripts he endorsed. Arunachalam was tolerable, but not the hedonistic women hating Padaiyappa. Yet, fandom was growing. Younger heroes declared, directly and indirectly, than they want to become the next Rajinikanth. Becoming the next great actor was a thing of the past; becoming Rajini is the current goal. They are fans of him, these young stars. Imagine their own fans.

He became an everyday subject of conversation in most families, in the same tone you’d use on your uncle, or a brother, or in my wife’s case, a father. Little toddlers love him, and eats only when his song is played on TV. People hardly say Rajini now; they have joined the chorus of those who say Rajini-sir or Rajini uncle, and even Rajini-taataa. During the last ten years there were scores of stage events featuring the Tamizh Nadu chief minister, with Rajini and Kamal as the main guests. The TV shows of the stage shows would edit it in a way that both of their speech would appear right at the end; and we would all wait, sitting through idiotic dances, boring speeches, stupid jokes; sacrifices we make so that we could see our two beloved stars’ speeches.

So, Rajini, no need confusion as to why the fans love you so much. Just get better, come back and do what you do the best: entertain us. And those weird Japanese.

Back off Bharathiraja.

The recently held D40 event in Tamil Nadu, India, was meant to commemorate the South Indian Director Associations 40^th year. That was the intent, but the whole show ended up as praise fest for one single director whose last hit was when Bush was the US president. Senior.

What ticked me off was a short film that glorified him and began with the line (in Tamil): In 1977, Tamil cinema gained its independence…” The loving, nay, lusting tribute showed clips from his films, amidst recent shots of Bharathiraja, walking, sitting, reading, writing, thinking, making love to furniture, etc. If it doesn’t make you nauseous, it would certainly want to make you take another shower. Especially, when the narrator lovingly detailed a technique where our director intercuts a shot of the heroine 20 or so times with a shot of a flapping butterfly. The insect could be male, but Bharathiraja is not a certified entomologist.

One of the credits often offered to Bharathiraja, who have not denied it, is that he moved the camera from studio to the rustic village site as per the 1977 debut, 16 Vayathinile. In short, in actual location. Wrong. It has been done by the filmmakers of the past, just take a look at Bheem Singh's Pazhani, the paddy field is beautifully shot for Aarodum song. Ditto, Mr. Singh’s Bhagapirivinai. Want to go back? How about the fabulously popular Manapaara Madukatti song in Makkalai Petra Magarasi.

But they are only song sequence, you might say. Actually there are other shots where the director painstakingly have taken the camera out of the studio and laid the tripod on actual ground. The thing is, it was very costly, and labour intensive to take the camera out, and as with Hollywood in the early days most portion of films were shot in the studio itself. 1977 was rather late for “Look ma, I am at real location” praise.

Most of his films are just plain romance themed, love stories, couples from various background and age group facing objections. 16 Vayathinile talks of a forbidden love between a simple village girl and a handsome (70s effeminate way) doctor and a limping simpleton, or was it a simple limpaton? Likewise, Kizhakke Pogum Rayil, this time he added train, classical dance by someone who can’t dance for nuts, and introducing Sudhakar who will go on to be a successfulsmall time comedian in Telugu films. Puthiya Varpugal is yet another love story set in the village.

He took a break from village, came up with excellent Sigappu Rojakkal, one of the very few film of his that didn’t age, thanks to well preserved Kamal Haasan and awesome soundtrack. Not that it was original, but nobody has seen a suspense thriller ala Psycho before in the industry.

Then, it was back to village romance for Bharathiraja with Niram Maratha Pookkal, and, straying a bit unsuccessful with Nizhalgal which deals with unemployment and awful looking costume. The films songs were excellent and are still enjoyed today if one were to remove the image of Chandrasekhar flapping his bell bottoms.

I would go on, but I assure you most of his films later dealt with love between a young girl and a young man facing opposition, with religion, caste or anything Bharathiraja can grab and make it with his own style, where the hero and the heroines crank their collective heads up and down to laugh (he even made Sivaji Ganesan to do it, that criminal), have the heroines speak in Radhika’s voice even if it is Radhika herself and even when Radhika is not dubbing. You get the loud mouthed old women beginning with Ghandimathi, succeeded by Vadivukarasi and the most recent was, well, Radhika herself.

You get variety of characters that seemed original back in 1977, only to turn up here and there in form of other underpaid character artistes, sometimes blown up as in case of the dad character in Karutamma, a film that could have been a lot more awesome if it not the case of Bharathiraja imposing himself on everyone on screen and hiring Raja.

Oh did I tell that most of the films have a central character committing an act of violence, screaming, “Deeyy……”? towards the climax. Followed by another character waiting for the central character to return from jail.

One of the biggest crime he committed was to make Sathyaraj in Kadalora Kavithaigal a wimp towards the end when he started the film showing him to be a tough, lovable rogue. Somewhere, I get the feeling that Bharathiraja loathed tough guys, or probably bullied by one when in school. The toughest guy in 16 Vayathinile gets rock on his head, the hero is a wimpy limp. Any films with Sudhakar goes on to show that softies takes the centre spot, as with K. Bagyaraj’s self written Puthiiya Varpugal where the toughest thing he did was to grab the girl and elope. Kamal in Sigappu Rojakkal killed women, not M.N. Nambiar. Oh yeah, he killed a guy, K. Bagyaraj, a lowly waiter, in the loo. They did it to you there, didn't they, Bharathiraja?

Sivaji Ganesan in Muthal Mariyathai was not only henpecked by mealy mouthed Vadivukarasi, but had to endure the show of strength by lifting rock. Yes, the same man who roared as Veerapandiyan Kattabomman, swashbuckled as Vikraman, broke bones as Raja, shot fireworks from his third eye as Lord Shiva, and even few years before was a regular ass-kicking ageing hero, had to lift a papier mache rock to impress a young girl in that movie. That is Bharathiraja’s idea of macho.

His insecurity is spilled over another annoying trend he employed in his films: voiceover. By him. He has the gravely voice that does not suits his whiny heroes and as a result, in most of his films, it was the case of mouse that roared. In fact, the biggest crime (how many biggest crimes already?) was to dub Nizhalgal Ravi in one film where Ravi already had a perfect speaking voice. A beautiful voice. And Bharathiraja ruined it.

To be fair, Bharathiraja was instrumental in introducing many talents. Actors like Karthik, and greatest comedian ever to be part of the film industry, Goundamani benefited from appearing first in Bharathiraja. The director also spawned assistants who will go on to be fantastic directors of their own, like Bagyaraj and Manivannan who are wonderful on screen performers themselves. Manivannan, underrated he was, made some of the best thrillers to come out of the industry.

Not all his films are typical Bharathiraja mess. The abovementioned Sigappu Rojakkal was one, and there was Vedam Puthithu that presented a searing look into caste system, En Uyir Tozhan, a powerful meditation on politician/follower relationship, and the quiet Anthimantharai, an ageing romance affair which was better handled than Muthal Mariyathai would have stunk without Sivaji and Ilayaraja. Plus great local locations, especially the beachside ones.

Speaking of whom, ever since the partnership with Ilayaraja faltered, so did the popularity of his film despite, or is it, in spite of occasional alliance with A.R. Rahman. The greatest Bharathiraja film has never been made, simply because he is not that great.

Tamil Films, Beards & Kamal

There is an incredible amount of beards found in Tamil film these days. From barely visible stubble, to Che Guevara-ish spacious growth to full blown facial mess, you just see them everywhere, whether it’s the films the fuzzy owners are acting in, or in off-screen functions where the number of beards compete directly with the number of cleavages. Comparatively, the latter is less disturbing.

Its not only stars on off-assignment mode that maintains these beards, but most of the on-screen characters these days comes with beard. It should be noted that films with rural background theme is making a wave now, not unlike early 80s when the likes of Bharathiraja popularised more local looking dudes with crown of curly going northwest and southeast and lots of facial hair. Character actors like Chandrasekhar, who owes his entire career to Karl Marx (unions) and director/writer/composer/editor/actor/janitor T. Rajendar, whose height disadvantage cost him the role of Chewbacca*, were immediately accepted by the mass who suddenly didn’t mind seeing facial hair emoting.

Then, it died out. Heroes were back to mustache and most popular look was blown-dry hair. As far as heroes are concerned, beard, usually reserved for after jail-sentence hero back for revenge, Ilayaraja tunes crooning sadcases who lost his sweetheart (thus rendering Ilayaraja more free time since he composed single tune for the late heroine and his bereaved lover), martyrs dying of disease (cancer’s the favourite), lads who are also master of disguises that a single goatee would dumbfound his own mother as we find her dumb, and for those wielding multiple roles, especially the beard is assigned to the dad (master performer, Sivaji Ganesan, succumbed to this trend in film like Trisoolam).

Of course, villains are given carte blanche to have what would range from goatee, to full blown above mentioned Marx-ish beards, they accessorised mind you. Beards was a must in mythical films for the bad guys as usual, the swamijis, extras playing wise-men, and the lead character in bio-pics, like Shri Ragavendra where Rajini goes from clean shaven handsome young men to Santa Claus in white.

But that was the 80s.

Decades earlier, beard was made infamous by MGR whose heroes usually used them and a thick mole for disguise. Though he still looked like MGR with beard and mole, in his universe nobody knows him except, maybe, Nagesh. Beards at that time too were relegated to bad guys, and sales of fake beards must have skyrocketed at the time when director A.P. Nagaran felt enough with contemporary social reform crap back in the 60s and on with mythologies. Of the cast of 100, 95 had beards, and none were clean shaven unless they are playing Krishna/Vishnu/Ramar or was NT RamaRao. Many mythological films appeared in the 70s, but most of them were with contemporary settings and beard went out of fashion in favour of wigs that look like black fist coming out of their forhead.

After brief resurgence in the 80s, beards went back to the closets they were kept and appeared briefly during the moments mentioned above. But then, nobody was as enthusiastic, nay, fanatic about beard than one of the best actors of his generation and perhaps the best looking man ever to grace the screen, Kamal Haasan.

Kamal flirted with beard at a very young age, nicely stubbled at 26 as unemployed poet in Varumaiyin Niram Sigappu, and adorned a fake one for the old man getup in Kadal Meenkal. When his character was stricken with cancer in Vazhve Mayam, he quickly bearded up and lost his girlfriend (no, not because of the beard though I’d like to think so). In Oru Kaithiyin Diary, he loses his loved one and comes out of jail with beard. I, at that time, suspected that movie prison encourages beard, like cops are encouraged to have mustache. There were scores of heroes who were jailed and later comes out to prove their innocence with the aid of wit, newly acquired martial arts skill and beard.

Back to Kamal. Death and love played a part again in Punnagai Mannan, when after failing in suicide and killing his girlfriend in the process (planned paired suicide went wrong), Kamal comes back to the society (from the jail, remember) as bearded dancing master and a regular pain in the ass moody grouch bag, which would have ruined the film if not for cheerfully funny uncle of his, also played by Kamal. The second Kamal had almost Chaplinesque mustach, goes to show that funny does not equal beard.

But all these were fake beards, you can spot them so far away. He said to hell with his dry-blown hair, cropped it short and grew actual 100% pure facial hair. The film, Sathya, had some of the best fight sequences in the history, and the beard only made Kamal more ferocious. Fake beard made a comeback in Michael Madhana Kamarajan when the evil Kamal (there was four of them with varying degrees of facial hair) had a goatie that couldn’t make its mind whether or not to join the sideburn.

And ferocity was the key of Hey Ram, self-directed masterpiece that sees him seriously experimenting with facial hair. You get to see a clean shaven Kamal, and then lightly bearded with ponytail, then heavily bushed, then with a black caterpillar above his lips, back to beard so much so that, though it was chronological, you feel like you are in a Tarantino movie.

In another self-directed brilliant film, Virumandi, Kamal sports what is known as “Franz-Josef beard”, though it looked more like he went, “Oh crap, what am I doing?” halfway shaving the bottom part of his full beard. It looked good nevertheless, as he did in Pammal K. Sambanthan where he sported lazy stubble and in Panchatanthiram looking good as a Pilot with a sharp goatee that did the acting on behalf of Simran. The goatee made a comeback in Mumbai Express to make up for Kamal’s deaf stunt man In Dasavatharam, he gave few of his characters (he played ten) different styles of facial hair, with two having beards. After that, he came out full fledged with nicely trimmed one in Unnaipol Oruvan, where his beard became evidence for his characters possible background. Was that a Muslim beard or a Hindu one?

Let’s face it, Kamal owns beard. It’s a copyright item belonging to Kamal Haasan that the other actors must pay royalty to. Kamal can sport a beard as and when he goddam pleases, in any which film whether or no he is in it. Kamal can have beard when he is in front of the camera, or behind the camera, or at his office or in your home doing plumbing. And he can still look awesome, no matter what style he chooses.

It is the assumption, that beard did the acting for Kamal, that the younger set of actors seemed to be bent on having beards or different style of facial hairs for each films. Wrong! To Kamal they were his prop, like Rajini and his fags or sunglass, like Sarath Kumar and his sombu. The rest is pure performance. If they have an award category for Most Awesome Facial Hair, Kamal is bound to win every year until they ban him.

*He was three feet shorter.

What Sivaji Ganesan can teach the current generation of actors.

(L to R) Standing:Jim Garner,Jack Lemmon, Charlton Heston. Sitting:George Chandler, Sivaji Ganesan, Walter Pidgeon.

Though not a fault of his, the late Tamizh film actor Sivaji Ganesan was born in India. Fate can play a cruel hand and in this instance, Sivaji, who has the distinction of being the greatest actor ever produced from that sub continent, fell into a fate that denied him the recognition as the greatest on screen actor in the world amongst the world population.

Half of us would agree with that recognition though, while the other half is too busy watching Miley Cyrus grow.

Forget about the world, even India never recognised his contribution whereby the National Award, often looked upon as the Oscar of India without the glamour and cleavages, did not honour him, giving him a best supporting actor award for walk in the park role he did with Kamal Haasan in Devar Magan during his twilight years.

There used to be saying among the Tamizh film fans, there is no role Sivaji has not done. Wrong. Sivaji himself has been on the record saying that he wished he had played rationalist Periyar in a biopic. The man was humble and realistic. To see that the role was taken by a hack recently shows the state the Tamizh film industry is in without the great Sivaji.

The thing is there is no way anyone can act as everyone. Even the great Sivaji knows his limitation. When asked about his talent, he just brushes it off, “I know a little bit of acting, that’s all”. Try listening to that when the younger generation of actors get overblown credit for merely shaving off his moustache in the next venture or gone completely more wooden than usual because it was ‘artistic’.

What made Sivaji a great actor was that he knows he has to do a role without the smugness that he was the best. He gave his best, he brought extra to the table and he pounded those wonderful array of roles into our cranium that those were the images that comes out of your mind when, say, someone mentions Veerapandiya Kattabomman, Karnan, Ranggan, Barrister Rajinikanth or Inspector Choudary.

That he had pushed himself needed no public relations. That he had strained to stretch himself needed no advertisements. Making difference to routinely written roles and gaining credit for it needed no propaganda machineries. Sivaji’s roles spoke louder than the modest actor who himself knows his own limitation and kept it out of the public’s eyes.

It is the humility, willingness to stretch without making loud announcement and moving along taking on challenging roles and at the same time challenging and inspiring his fellow actors and technicians (though this may not apply in the 80s) to bring forth a quality production in terms of great movies that makes him tower all the actors from that region. To borrow words from leadership guru, Stephen Covey, Sivaji, “found his voice and inspired others to find theirs”. Such was his unique power.

That, alas, is lacking in the current age with obsession for opening collection, with actors mistaking getup change for good acting, and heroines mistaking excessive makeup, less cloth and borrowed voice for great contribution. Humility, to have the power to overcome limitations and to inspire others is something that the current crop of actors can aspire for and need another lifetime of the same career to achieve. This is merely a single chapter from the humongous actors’ guide book called Sivaji Ganesan. No, make that a single page.

Written to celebrate Nadigar Thilagam Sivaji Ganesan’s 83^rd Birthday.

Happy Birthday Sir Sean Connery

I would have liked to start this piece by saying, “His name is Connery, Sean Connery”, which I did, but it would be too clichéd. Lazy journalism, they say. Plus, his name is actually Thomas Sean Connery and he is referred to as Big Tam in his hometown, Edinburg, Scotland. Hardly a reference to the sophisticated, suave gentleman spy he would play in 1962.

Today is Connery’s 80^th birthday and he has decided to retire from acting, citing, as one of the reasons, that Hollywood is run by “idiots”. Too bad, the farewell film was badly reviewed (though I liked it) A League Of Extraordinary Gentleman, unlike Eastwood who retired from acting symbolically killing off all the images he had created over the time in Gran Torino, a huge financial and critical success. Connery deserves something like that, but if at all there is a consolation, he will always be remembered as the best damn James Bond of them all.

But the downside to that acclamation though, is that he will not be remembered for some of the finest on-screen performances he had delivered as a serious actor. The caged animal in The Hill (1965), the conflicted cop in The Offence (1973), the man who would be king in The Man Who Would Be King (1975), ageing Robin Hood in Robin and Marion (1976), medieval Franciscan Sherlock Holmes in The Name of The Rose (1986), a publisher caught in an espionage conflict in The Russia House (1990), and an author coming out of self-imposed exile in Finding Forester (2000). Of course, he was awarded an Oscar for Best Supporting Actor for his screen bursting performance in The Untouchables (1987) beating the magnificent Robert de Niro from the same pix. This despite of de Niro putting on weight and wearing same underwear Al Capone (role he played) wore.

Hopefully this post would help few visitors of this site to remember his contributions other than that damned James Bond*. So, here’s to you Sir Sean. Happy 80^th Birthday!

*Yes, during a press conference he did say, “I’d love to kill that damned James Bond”.

Diego Maradona – The Love/Hate Icon

There is a popular shot of Diego Maradona freeze in the air, with his hands touching a aerial bound football. Fortunately, that will not be all football fans all over the world will remember the player acknowledged as one of the finest in the world. In fact, never has there been a footballer who was both loved, adored, hated and despised like Maradona.

Look, one can argue till the cow comes home that Pelé is better than Maradona, but Pelé is such a gentleman that he is boring. Come on, the old man does advertisement for erectile dysfunction. Maradona is poster boy for once drug abuse, obesity, and return to sobriety and full form, and possibly back to abuse and being a fatso. There is nothing stopping Maradona from sustaining the good guy/bad boy image he had all these years…and on top of that, a magnificent football player that influenced the entire generation that insisted that Pelé was the best, but dammit, deep inside they admitted this chunky, short Argentinean was no fluke either.

Maradona’s full name is thankfully Diego Armando Maradona. There should be a collective sigh of relief to know that, since Pelé’s full name is Edison Arantes do Nascimento. If you are staring in disbelief, Pelé’s fellow Brazilian footballer, Socrates’ actual name is Sócrates Brasileiro Sampaio de Souza Vieira de Oliveira and it’s easy to assume that introduction sessions in Brazil take days.

Anyway, back to Maradona. When I first saw heard of him and his team when I was seven, and saw him on small screen to years later. I have seen football magazines collected by my uncle back then, and having won the previous world cup, this impressionable young boy became a fan of Argentina’s national football team. I grew to accept some elements of Argentinean football team that irks non-fan – that though they play fantastic football, they also play it dirty. Nothing was more evident than the “hand of god” incident that I highlighted earlier that sent England packing back home in 1986 World Cup, notably one of the best in FIFA’s history. Maradona was responsible for that and led Argentina to victory that year defeating the mechanical Germans. The English are still bitter about it, but it is safe to know that to be defeated by “hand of god” was better than to be crushed German cyborgs.

So, that was the beginning of many controversial events in Maradona’s life. As you might know, he played in Naples for Napoli, where once he was banned for 15 months for cocaine abuse, and then again during 1994 World Cup where he was tested positive for ephedrine, whatever it was.

He retired in 1997, around the time I was losing interest in the game, and went on to become doppelganger for Marlon Brando in terms of size and wackiness. Cocaine abuse was rampant and he had love-hate relationship with the press. In fact, once, claiming that the reporters were invading his privacy, Maradona fired compressed-air rifle. That was a wrong thing to do; a shot gun should have been apt for the paparazzi knuckleheads.

Then, to piss the Americans he became a good buddy of Fidel Castro and called George W. Bush “human garbage”. Having added salt to the injury, he proceeded to pour acid on it when he presented a signed shirt with a message of support to the people of Iran: it is to be displayed in the Iranian Ministry of Foreign Affairs' museum. Somewhere Bush is burning Maradona’s effigy.

If that is not enough, the country that loved him once, Italy, reported that in 2009 Maradona owed them 37 million euros in taxes. As of now, Maradona has only paid them 42,000 euros, two luxury watches and a set of earrings. Getting a government to walk into a pawn shop is certainly great way to maintain a relationship.

Speaking of love-hate, the same should apply with his relationship with Pelé. On one occasion, FIFA conducted a fan poll on the Internet the Player of the Century. Maradona finished top of the poll with 53.6% of the vote. But for some feel-good reason, Pelé was also given the title. Maradona, being a gentleman that we know, protested and didn’t wait for the ceremony to be over when he walked off…with the award of course.

The two sort of made up when Maradona started his own talk show….yes, talk show. He is the most outspoken, politically incorrect, and likes to shoot the media, literally, and he was part of the very platform he abhorred, that’s Maradona for you. Anyway, here’s what wikipedia has to say about the show and Pelé:

“His main guest on opening night was Pelé; the two had a friendly chat, showing no signs of past differences. However, the show also included a cartoon villain with a clear physical resemblance to Pelé.”

The two got together again for an advertisement shoot with Zidane, an odd choice considering the balding French was mainly known for using the bald spot to butt-head another player during a game. And recently, when Pelé gave a not so kind comment about Maradona’s coaching technique, the latter simply said that Pelé should be in a museum

Anyway, he proved to be a colourful personality in the ongoing World Cup, standing right next to the field’s touchline, as a coach, a very emotional one, urging the players on, screaming at the referee, kicking the ball stylishly when it rolled to him, and very much becoming the man of the match himself though he was outside the pitch. He was every bit as entertaining as the game itself.

Whether he was a great player, questionable coach, had issues with his health, grappled with drug addiction, shared meals with communist leaders, or pissed the Americans off, he’d be a name that at least, football fans or those who have heard of the game, would remember.

I asked two hardcore Brazil supporters what they think of him here are the reactions:-

Balan Kumar (my brother): “A legend like Pelé, who should have remained just that, now he will be also known as a failed manager, notwithstanding his off field antics ( football field touchline and his cocaine induced tantrums).”

Subendran Ravindran (author of footballshaman.blogspot.com): “He is a great player who tried to be a great manager, but over did it with fiddling too much. In the end should have just remained that great icon that we all knew. And the irony is, he will still be a ‘great’ icon.”

4 Other Responsibilities for Samy Vellu So He Can Resign Soon.

We all know what is happening in MIC*, with Samy Vellu the president still hanging on to his chair, and his party ex-members forming comically named group called GAS (Gerakan Anti Samy, [Anti-Samy Movement]) which makes sense, unless you take into account that Samy also means God in Tamil. This is not new as we all know that many who have tasted power wants to cling on even if it means that they have to die and come back as Zombie, in which case I suspect Samy is.

Anyway, The Star newspaper columnist Joceline Tay wrote a nice piece in which she said:

"…American Idol judge Simon Cowell said on Thursday night as the cast toasted his last season with the reality show: 'You gotta know when to leave the party.'"

And she proceeds to advice:

"It is best to step down when you are still in control of your exit plan, when the party is still on, and not after the music has stopped"

Trouble is, Samy’s exit plan includes sacking anyone including those who sneezed during a meeting, even if the fellow is not a party member. The damndest thing is, he is leading a party that was supposed to be representing Malaysian Indian community, and I personally did a survey recently and found out that it actually represents a certain rodent family and few marsupials that respond to old Tamil songs.

Anyway, since the party itself is irrelevant to that community here, it’s about time Samy move on and do something else. Which is apt as he was recently quoted as saying that he will resign early if he is given other responsibilities. Right now, it’s not clear what kind of responsibilities these are; for all you know it might be sacking his Malay teacher or something.

So, to help him I decided to make a few suggestions on the “responsibilities” he can take on so that he can leave while the “party is still on” so to speak. Dear Samy, when you are not busy writing poetry**, you can take a look at these:

1. (Long Term) Leadership Guru

Look, the man has been a political party president for a frickin’ 22 years, a cabinet minister for 18 years and that’s a record and there has to be a reason why he hung on to his chair that long. These are my suggested programs that can help youths of today become political tyrants of the future:

a) Taking the bull by its tail: Shirking responsibilities and facing issues with your ass turned towards it.

b) Hand that bites your ass: Choosing the right deputies (wieners) and right hand wan…I mean, men.

c) Crowd Control: Get total attention during meetings and kick questioners ass.

d) Getting Away: Mistakes, mismanagement and manipulations.

e) Nepotism: Never pass on your big mouth to your political heirs.

f) Mind Your Language: Mangle your way to media’s heart.

g) Deflective Shield: How to blame everyone else.

These are merely suggestions, I am sure Samy has huge storage of experience, knowledge, anecdotes, and copies of police reports and legal suits that he can share with us. Of course, there is a trait in leadership that requires a separate title and responsibilities, and I mean becoming a…

2. Anger Management Guru.

Look, he has been there and done it. His hot temper is known from coast to coast, ocean to ocean, dust to dust, etc. Day in and day out his anger knows no boundary , with his blood kept on boiling to the point that he has to periodically stick some dry ice onto certain orifice to cool himself down***

But I am sure there are other methods he employs to manage his anger that he can share with many of us. Let’s face it, if there are two things we cannot control, it’s anger and hunger. I say so, because they rhyme. But anger destroys, and Samy knows that too well. Some of the programs I suggest for Samy to share with us:

a) How to control your anger by sacking someone.

b) How to postpone your anger by sacking someone.

c) How to sack someone to control your anger and postpone it.

d) How to control someone by postponing your anger and sacking it.

Wouldn’t it be awesome, if we learn about fire from the fireeater himself. Samy can help to bring good mood and humour in your life. Which brings us to…

3. Standup Comedian (in Malay)

Samy’s mangling of the Malay language is legendary. I am sure one day someone will write the tome, Hikayat Samy Vellu, with students arguing whether or not it’s based on the real man, because the amazing amount of language goofs in it. The author of this blog post have similar doubts too but let me assure you that most of it are true.

So, all samy has to do is just stand (or sit, depending whether he had just shoved the dry ice) and respond to queries. It will have audiences in stitches, and Samy would have finally found his real niche. Which brings us to…

4. Hair Transplant Ambassador.

Contrary to what folks think, that thing on his head is not a shrink-wrapped dead Siamese cat. They are actually follicles as a result of Hair Transplant, Extreme CombOver™ and industry strength Glue (let’s abbreviate it to HTECOG). I, especially, know this well having had the capability, since I am balding myself and have watched many Sean Connery movies, to differentiate real hair, wigs and doormats. So, those real hairs has been on that head for around two solid decades now, and Samy has been unfairly ignored as a great maintainer of tresses that is probably transplanted from his armpit.

It’s time to give him that credit and I suggest Samy approach any leading hair transplant service provider and offer himself to be the ambassador for the industry. He can preach the virtue of HTECOG to balding males, as opposed to those spidery combover that terrifies even adults, much less small children and wigs that looked like dry cow poop. Since there are just one too many balding males, at a mature age, it’d be easy for everyone to relate to Samy as a fellow baldy who recovered with HTECOG.

***

So, there you go, Samy. Pick up one of these responsibilities or all of them and resign. Let the others deal with the bothersome business of managing a political party and take on one of these responsibilities. And fast, because your expiry date as Zombie is nearing.

*(For non-Malaysian reader) That’s a Malaysian Indian party, abbreviation of Malaysian Indian Congress…any links with Mahatma Ghandi is purely coincidental. Some of the members want the president to resign, like, now.

**True. He writers poem to the newspaper that is linked with him, Tamil Nesan. The poems may be about as creative as a five year old, at least they rhyme.

***I read it somewhere. Either that or I made it up, not sure.