Cricket Gets Its Saviour, Tennis On The Lookout For One

As Chris Gayle got down to some seriously savage ball-thwacking in the first match of the Twenty20 World Cup between West Indies and South Africa, all I could think was: why are they still playing 50-over cricket? If any cricket follower still feels the need to defend the logic of holding 50-over tournaments in the face of the adrenaline-rushing, maddeningly exciting blur that is Twenty20 cricket, then I have to fear for his sanity. Cricket needed something to save itself from the embarrassing doldrums that it was plunged into after the match-fixing saga, and it has got one. Twenty20 is fresh, innovative, thrilling and intense: just about everything you'd ask for in a modern sport. Thankfully, Twenty20 is also a money-spinner, and that would probably be a good enough reason to induce the bunch of dolts that is the ICC, which had the gall to insist to an outraged cricket community that this year's World Cup in the West Indies was a 'great success', to do some progressive work for a change. And while they're busy slobbering over the enormous mounds of money that they're bound to make through this new golden egg, will someone advise the idiots to push for Twenty20 cricket to be included in the Olympics?


Speaking of Olympics, I'm sure the fact that tennis is an Olympic sport must have alerted a lot of tennis followers to the deliciously fascinating possibilities the next year holds for a certain male tennis player. Roger Federer has achieved just about everything there is to achieve in tennis, having this week added yet another Grand Slam title to his already bulging collection by defeating Novak Djokovic in the US Open final, but a 'Golden Slam' might just be the one thing that firmly and eternally closes the GOAT debate. It's never been done before by a male player - Steffi Graf managed to win the Olympic gold medal in addition to the 4 Grand Slams in 1988, but no man has ever even come close to such a feat. Of course, Andre Agassi does have a career Golden Slam, but his career spanned two decades, so there. (On a side note, isn't it simply fabulous that the only two players in the history of tennis to have completed Golden Slams, whether in a calendar year or a career, ended up being married to each other?). The French Open remains the most worrying obstacle for Federer to achieve this Holy Grail-like accomplishment, but I like to believe that he's been saving it for the year when the full force of his achievements will hit the tennis world like a tornado. Yes, a Golden Slam next year would be totally stunningly terrific, and honestly, if anyone could ever do it, then it's got to be him. Federer will, however, have to watch out for an outlandish young player who likes to do silly impersonations of his well-respected peers, looks to the crowd instead of his coach when in need of advice whether to challenge a call, and who goes by the name of Novak Djokovic.

They said Federer didn't win the US Open final as much as Djokovic lost it, and for once they were right. When you get 7 set points spread over 2 sets, 5 of them on your serve, and fail to convert a single one of them, it says a lot about your poor mental strength, but if you're playing Federer, it also says a lot about your huge talent. Federer played awful for long periods during the game, I agree, but at times he was also outdone by Djoker's range of shots, his amazing movement, his effective serve and his exquisitely potent backhand. He's almost like a mini-Federer, to be very blunt. Of course, Federer managed to withstand all of Djokovic's weapons without so much as a grunt of frustration, armed as he always is with his own, much more important weapons like the ability to play the big points alarmingly well and an almost indefatigable serve. And that's precisely why he is THE Federer, all glory and perfection, and not a 'mini-Federer'. But Djokovic, it cannot be denied, is an irresistible talent, and it seems clear that from now on Federer will have not one (we've almost forgotten Rafael Nadal, haven't we?), but two great rivals. All the more motivation, I think, for Federer to raise the bar even higher, even if age isn't exactly on his side, and go for something that no man has ever dreamed of before. And oh, Pete Sampras's record is just a formality now, don't you think? 14 Grand Slams? If I were Federer, and that's a big 'if', I wouldn't settle for anything less than 18. Maybe even 20. Scary? You bet.

Of Sportsmanship and Showmanship

So, one half of my US Open nightmare has come true. Justine Henin has just capped a stunningly successful, almost Federer-like year with an incandescent showing at the year's final Grand Slam, destroying three former champions - Serena Williams, Venus Williams and Svetlana Kuznetsova in succession to a well-deserved 7th Grand Slam trophy, and I'm not smiling. Sure, Henin may be an aesthetic shot-maker and her backhand may be 'a thing of beauty', as many people like to put it, but her lack of personality and charisma make it very hard for me to root for her in any match that she plays. Of course, her 'incident' in the 2003 French Open semi-final against Serena Williams, when she raised her hand during Serena's service motion leading to a serving fault, and subsequently refused to back Serena's perfectly legitimate request for another first serve may have a big part to play in my unqualified prejudice against her. Unfortunately for Henin, that incident isn't the only one that people like to twirl about when vociferously pointing out how un-sportsmanlike Henin can get. The 2006 Australian Open final, when Henin retired while trailing Amelie Mauresmo 6-1, 2-0, thus denying Mauresmo the unadulterated glory that comes with a maiden, hard-fought Grand Slam triumph, is still fresh in everyone's minds, perhaps much more vividly in mine. I suppose you might say that talking about these past fallacies in the face of the unquestioned brilliance that Henin has put on show this year is childish, but is it that difficult for Henin to muster up a belated but much-warranted apology, specially about the French Open incident? Ok, I think I'm starting to sound like the sore and cranky statistician that I always do after things don't go according to my liking in a sports match, so I'll just let Henin be for the moment.

While we're talking of un-sportsmanlike sportspersons, the name Serena Williams can't be too far away, can it, particularly since she chooses to state in her press conference after getting whipped by Justine Henin that she lost because "Justine played a lot of lucky shots". Alright, I know that press conference made Serena sound really bad, but that doesn't quite explain the unmistakable hatred that most tennis fans (well ok, when I say 'most tennis fans' I only mean most of the people who visit internet message boards) have shown in spelling out their distaste at Serena's words. Serena Williams has been, in the words of her father Richard, an arrogant "pit bull" for the whole of the 10-odd years that she's been on the women's tour. In fact, most tennis analysts in the past have admitted that her stubborn refusal to believe that anybody could beat her when she was playing her best had a major part to play in her 8 Grand Slam trophy wins. Which is why it is plain irritating to find people still giving her grief about the 'lack of respect' that she gives her opponents. Even though I personally wish she took a leaf or two out of her sister Venus's book who has matured considerably over the years, I can totally understand if she still wants to doggedly believe that she can be the best player in the world anytime that she really wants to. After all, isn't 'believing in yourself' the favourite mantra that mentors like to throw at their charges to inspire them to greatness and beyond? There is, of course, also the inescapable fact that Serena is every bit as good a tennis player as she claims - she can be hideously overweight, sorely bereft of match practice and completely lacking the agility and speed that made her such an irresistible force back in her glory days, and still manage to win a Grand Slam ranked 81st in the world. I'd like to see Henin try that. Serena is still the woman with the highest Grand Slam tally among current players, and has been the best player of the decade according to many tennis experts. So why all the malicious Williams-bashing then? I don't like to bring up the R-word, but it's very difficult to comprehend why a Martina Hingis, who is fair, pretty and lissome, can get away with downright offensive remarks, alarmingly childish tantrums and embarrassingly loud sobs after her losses while Serena Williams is labeled a disgrace to the sport of tennis for unwaveringly believing in her own abilities, unless there was some sick and disgusting attitude at the back of it all. For those of you who didn't get it, I'm talking about racism. And before this post gets any more sordid, I think I should move on to less unpleasant things.

The men's final will begin in a few hours' time, and I just can't wait for it because it's going to be a cracking match, if the level of play of the two finalists throughout the tournament is anything to go by. There's been a lot of talk about this being the first 'interesting' US Open final in years, and while I'm willing to give Novak Djokovic the credit for bringing 'interest' back to US Open finals, I just don't see him putting it past Roger Federer barely two years into his thus far impressive career. Remember, we're talking about defeating the man who's won 11 Grand Slams in the space of 4 years, and who managed to defeat Andy Roddick, a former No.1 player and US Open champion, in straight sets, in spite of the fact that Roddick was probably playing the best match of his career. That's unreal, unbelievable fantasy, that's GOAT stuff, that is. Djokovic needs to improve his serve a little, and learn to be more aggressive, and for heaven's sake he needs to drop all of that ludicrous showmanship and arrogance. It's amusing, even entertaining, to watch an up-and-coming tennis prodigy doing imitations of well-known tennis stars to thunderous applause from the crowd, but it's simply unacceptable for a potential Grand Slam champion to be doing that. Get a grip on yourself, Novak, you want to earn a little respect from tennis enthusiasts. And oh, while you're preparing yourself for the final, you might want to have a nice long chat with Rafael Nadal and collect a few tips from your physio about the best way to survive a marathon, lifeforce-sapping encounter in the New York heat. Against Federer, you'll need all the help that you can get.

By the way, if you're wondering what the 'other half' of my US Open nightmare is, it's Djokovic winning the men's title. So much for a stress-free US Open final.

Bad And Worse

Right then. This has got to be one of the first US Open tournaments I have ever watched. The horror show started yesterday evening, just the 5th day of the Open, a time you wouldn't normally associate with heartbreaking losses. First Marat Safin, that charming little volcano-man, went down with disappointing tameness to Stanislas Wawrinka. Then Novak Djokovic, that outrageously gifted but hideously arrogant peacock of a man didn't go down to an inspired Radek Stepanek, instead eking out a scary five-set marathon. I say scary because it is clear to me now, if it wasn't already before the Open began, that Djoker has it in him to give a mighty challenge to the Grand Slam dominance of Federer-Nadal. And that was just the start of my miseries. The big blow came next. Lleyton Hewitt, the one sportsperson I have stood by through injuries, atrocious lack of form and repeated humiliating whippings at the hands of Federer, gave me yet another solid reason why I should probably move on to a new favourite player. I mean come on, Hewitt has become so nondescript now that the tennis websites didn't even bother to write anything about his defeat, which by all means is still significant considering he's a two-time Slammer. I've been trying to find the story covering his match all day, hoping that there perhaps must have been a legitimate reason why he lost to a decidedly over-the-hill claycourter like Augustin Calleri, like maybe an injury or something, but haven't had any luck so far. And much as I hate to admit this, there probably is a legitimate reason for the tragedy - that Hewitt is just not good enough anymore. Sad, sad.

Things just got worse today. Maria Sharapova, the defending champion, lost to a player whose name I can't even spell, let alone pronounce. It was someone called Radwanska, I think. Yeah, I know, Sharapova cannot lose to a Radwanska in the 3rd round, just a year after her glory days of defeating Amelie Mauresmo and Justine Henin back-to-back. But guess what, the blonde Russian has regressed by around two years instead of moving anywhere forward since January. If you thought being regularly dismantled by a Williams sister wasn't bad enough, look what's happening to her now: being bounced out by 17-year-old Radwanskas. Poor Maria, the avowed anti-Pova club members aren't going to be anything less than scathing in heaping their gleeful scorn on this latest embarrassment. Incidentally, I don't think I can visit a tennis discussion forum anytime soon, considering how vociferously I have been battling these distinguished anti-Pova members for the past month. I'm sorry, but reading a thousand-odd statements like "Look where the overrated brat is now", "She's just another Kournikova" or "HAHAHAHA" is just not my thing.

So could things get any worse after these tragic few hours? Well yes, they could. Sania Mirza could get overawed by a higher-ranked player and put in a completely listless performance in her 3rd round match. And she did precisely that. To be honest, Anna Chakvetadze is probably a much better player than Mirza and will likely defeat her 4 time out of 5, but that doesn't make the loss any less sad. Mirza needs to do well at the Slams if she has any hopes of being counted as a world-class player, and clearly she hasn't done too much of that yet. Chakvetadze, on the other hand, suddenly finds herself in a very favourable position now that Sharapova is out, and I'm willing to bet that she'd be the one to come through the bottom half of the draw and book that final against a Williams.

Right then. This is now officially the worse US Open I have ever watched. All I need now is for Roger Federer to not win the men's trophy. Or for Djokovic to win it. Or for Justine Henin to win the women's trophy. Wow, the US Open is fraught with more potential disasters than the regular Hollywood blockbuster. Maybe I need to stop following tennis and watch more movies instead. Hollywood blockbusters.

Birth Of An Industry

First up, I want to give out a disclaimer for all those who think there are too many movie reviews floating around blogosphere and the world in general: this is NOT a movie review of Ratatouille. This post is dedicated not just to one movie, but to the whole wonderful realm of animation. It's about time I did this too, considering just how much I love animated movies. So anyway, has anyone noticed that animated movies are no longer just a sporadic summer attraction that appeal exclusively to kids? Hollywood has been pumping in the big bucks into all things animated, and the creative minds of the world's biggest movie industry have, by and large, responded magnificently. The best part about this revolution of sorts is that moviegoers across the world have given their whole-hearted approval to the Hollywood bigwigs' inclinations towards expanding the genre which once had a very limited appeal into a full-fledged, multi-million industry.

Consider the facts: Shrek 2 is the 3rd highest grossing movie in the history of US cinema and the 8th highest grossing movie worldwide. Shrek The Third, despite the mostly poor reviews, came through most of the intense summer competition this year unscathed, and ended up making more money than Pirates 3, Transformers and, gasp! Harry Potter 5. The Lion King and Finding Nemo hold their own steady places on the all-time box-office list, while last year Happy Feet gave James Bond and Casino Royale a run for their stylish money. And get this: as many as 8 animated movies find a place on imdb's list of the Top 250 movies of all time. Clearly, the animation business is booming. Of course, there are many who've been protesting that there's been an overdose of animated movies the past couple of years, and I do admit that churning out Madagascar and The Wild, two movies with almost identical visuals and storylines, in very quick succession was a bit of a perfect personification of the word 'overkill'. But then again, animation is not just a genre any longer - it's an industry; it has its share of lean periods, as I'm sure does every other film industry in the world. And just when duds like Surf's Up and Barnyard were starting to give the naysayers solid justifications for their nay-sayings, out comes a little gem like Ratatouille.

Most critics have used horribly predictable words like 'sumptuous', 'feast', 'delicious' and a whole lot of other food-centric adjectives to describe Ratatouille, so I think I'll steer clear of those tasteless clichés. Ratatouille is not delicious, delectable or luscious; it's a marvellous example of high quality cinema that will, in the long run, prove to be the standard by which all other animated movies are judged. For once, imdb's users aren't wrong in their ratings - Ratatouille fully deserves its 8.5 rating and 77th rank in the Top 250 list of imdb. If not for anything else, the movie deserves credit for going beyond the genre-specific, or should I say industry-specific premises that have been so thoroughly exploited by other filmmakers. For instance, there's no faithful-but-dumb sidekick here. Nor are there too many pop culture references or crude, childish jokes. And considering the very mature handling of the story, it would've been truly embarrassing if Remy, the protagonist, had found a facile love interest at the end. The movie has an actual, identifiable storyline, which is very rare for an animated movie. And that's precisely where it scores handsomely.

There's something delightfully elegant and classy about the pacing of the story, the visuals, and of course, the fantastic dialogue. Maybe it's the French element in it, I don't know. Then there's the quality of the animation itself. I watched the movie with a friend who's doing engineering, and even though he was a little bored that "it wasn't outrageously hilarious", he couldn't stop raving about the precision and level of detail in the visuals. Of course, Pixar has set very high standards for animation with the ultra-realistic Cars and the beautiful The Incredibles, but that doesn't stop us from being amazed, every time, at how efficiently and perfectly the computer geeks do their job. The background score is indescribably fantastic, and since it is indescribable, I'm not going to attempt to describe it. The subplots are well-crafted, the actors chosen for the characters almost perfect. The ending is innovative and pleasant, and the monologue by Anton Ego (voiced by Peter O'Toole) at the end has to be one of the most beautiful and meaningful speeches I've ever heard in a movie. Frankly, I couldn't really find anything to complain about the movie, except perhaps that they could've made it a little funnier. But Ratatouille would've been a very good movie even if it didn't have a single gag in it. That, however, is not the case, which must make it obvious, really, that this is one movie that no one should possibly miss. Personally, I'd definitely rank this as the second best animated movie I've ever seen (I'm sorry, but nothing beats Shrek for me).

Now look what I've done - I've ended up writing a review of Ratatouille in spite of the bold (and pretentious, now that I think of it) disclaimer at the start. But honestly, I couldn't help it. I just had to write something in praise of such a heart-warming yet skillful attempt at movie-making. Oh well, I think I'll have to put in something now to make this sound less like a movie review. How about a Top-10 list of my favourite animated movies of all time? Yeah, it's cheesy, and it's unsophisticated, but what's life without a little cheese and a little unsophistication? Ok, I'm not even sure 'unsophistication' is a word, so I'll just get this over with without further ado. Here goes:
1. Shrek
2. Ratatouille
3. Shrek 2
4. Monsters, Inc.
5. The Incredibles
6. Ice Age
7. Flushed Away
8. Madagascar
9. Chicken Run
10. Shrek The Third

Cheesy Gets Fun

What is it with Steven Spielberg and aliens? Just about every significant movie about aliens, weird creatures or supersmart/monstrous/robotic freaks of nature in the past decade (and maybe even the decade before that) has had some connection with the legendary filmmaker. Which is not to say that he's always been brilliant at the gory extra-terrestrial dramas. War of the Worlds was a positively dull (and incomprehensible) CGI-reeking mess, while Men In Black had a tad too many gooey/slimy/disgusting creatures for my liking. The fact remains, however, that Spielberg loves extra-terrestrials. Which is why it is not surprising that the man has a firm connection with the big movie with even bigger aliens, Transformers, as its executive producer. Of course, Michael Bay is the captain of the ship here, and though it was totally expected of him to continue with his tried-and-tested formula of making thrill-a-minute entertainers with no depth whatsoever, I thought Spielberg's involvement would have made some difference here. Well, I was wrong - Transformers is as mindlessly entertaining and frivolous as Hollywood could ever get. And hey, I'm not exactly complaining. It's alright if filmmakers go for the Star Wars/Spider-man effect for their blockbusters at times; we don't expect a Batman Begins every single time. And even if we did, we wouldn't really be granted our wish, would we?

The visual effects in Transformers are, to say the very least, stunning. The level of detail and sophistication, together with the scale and magnitude of the cinematography makes 300 look amateurish in comparison. One just wishes, however, that they'd slowed down the camera in some of the fight sequences - it's almost impossible to keep up with the lightning pace of the transformations and stunts. On the flip side, the plot of the movie is about as ridiculous as Roger Federer losing to Guillermo Canas twice in a row. I don't know about you, but the whole 'allspark-code-grandpa glasses' angle almost made me burst out with laughter. But the thing that really had me in splits was the line "I AM MEGATRON!!!" - not exactly the first words you'd expect to hear from a robo-alien that has been defrosted after a hundred years. Nevertheless, the flick was great entertainment - the over-the-top theatrics (especially the unfathomable attachment that the lead characters feel for the far-from-lovable robots), the melodramatic humour and the ultra-cool Megatron (aside from his ludicrous opening line) bring more than a few smiles to your face. You almost want to forgive the childish dialogue and lack of depth in the plot and characterizations. Transformers is immensely likable, and is one of those rare movies that you can watch any number of times without getting bored. So three cheers to frivolous cinema!

"Ba ba blu bley"

There are very few things that I never get tired of. One of them, of course, is Harry Potter. Possibly the only other is (and I hate how this makes me sound so childish) - Friends. Yeah, I know what you're thinking: here comes another Friends-infatuated teenager who can't see beyond the immature and slapstick humour of a cheesy, run-of-the-mill, mass-oriented comedy. But you're wrong, so very wrong. For one thing, I'm not a teenager (wow, it feels so great to say that!). For another, I defy anyone to watch a single episode of Friends and not go down in peals of laughter at the crazy antics of Monica, Chandler, Ross, Rachel, Phoebe and Joey. And yes, I never do get tired of watching the same old Friends episodes over and over again. Nor do most of my friends, if their constant insistence at borrowing my Friends DVDs (and their reluctance to return them, may I add) is anything to go by.

I got acquainted with the Friends phenomenon very late, I think around the time of the 8th season, somewhere around 2002. Prior to that, I just had some vague idea about a wildly popular TV show that starred a certain somebody called Jenifer Aniston, who, going by the frequent appearance of her name in the glamour section of newspapers, was in some way related to Brad Pitt. Heck, I didn't even know how Aniston looked, and for the first couple of episodes I kept confusing her with Courtney Cox. Fortunately, however, our dear old Star World and Zee Cafe never managed to air the latest seasons, so I watched the earlier seasons first and not the 8th season (which was the least funny of all the seasons, in my opinion, and would probably not have got me so completely hooked to the show). But once I got started, there was no looking back. The show was just so irresistibly funny! It may have been nothing more than loud, slapstick humour at times, but oh my God did I laugh while watching it! I don't think I've ever laughed so hard at a piece of fiction as I did during those countless 7.30 slumps on my couch (ok, maybe I did laugh harder while reading P.G. Wodehouse's Right-Ho Jeeves, but let's just confine 'fiction' to TV and movies for the moment, shall we?).

All the characters in the series were so well-etched out that you couldn't help but precisely understand all of their actions and reactions. When Joey bought a boat at an auction that he couldn't afford, you could understand why; when Phoebe decided to spy on her twin sister's stalker, you could empathise perfectly with her; when Ross put on a British accent in one of his classes for no rhyme or reason you had no problems in comprehending the innate rationale of it all. Of course, a major reason why the show was so amazing was the strength of its actors. I seriously doubt that as many as six actors with such fantastic comic timing as Matt LeBlanc, Courtney Cox, Jenifer Aniston, David Schwimmer, Matthew Perry and Lisa Kudrow will ever be assembled together, whether on the big screen or the small. It's no wonder the producers had such a hard time getting them together for the last few seasons.

We all have our favourite Friends characters. For me it has always been the ridiculously hilarious Phoebe, who together with Nina Vanhorn from Just Shoot Me and Calvin from Calvin and Hobbes is the funniest fictional character I've ever come across. No matter how many times I watch the episode where Ross plans to play the bagpipes on Chandler and Monica's wedding, I always laugh hysterically at Phoebe's line "Eeee Peee Teee" in response to Ross saying, "You guys know the song - sing along!". In terms of acting ability, however, David Schwimmer and Jenifer Aniston stand out as the most accomplished. I'll probably never forget Aniston's expression when she says "Oh my God" in response to Joey saying that one of his moves on a date was to get the champagne served by a fan. And Schwimmer jumping around with Rachel and Phoebe when he gets his new apartment was simply, wonderfully priceless. Chandler, Monica and Joey all had their terrific moments too; Chandler's expression when he says "I'm leaving you" to Monica when Monica and Ross kept gushing about a tacky gaming show nearly had me in tears. Joey and Monica were probably the least funny of the characters in my opinion. I know Joey is a favourite with most fans, but he was just too dumb for my liking - you'd be hard pressed to find a man who doggedly keeps spewing out "Ba ba blu bley" when asked to repeat a French line "Ju ma pel Claude" (at least that's what it sounded like) in real life. But his impersonation of Chandler at the costume party was unforgettable, as was Chandler's reaction to it.

There are so many lines, so many funny situations, so many priceless expressions throughout the series that one blog post would be WAY too short to narrate them, even if I restricted myself to only the very finest ones. I know I have spent countless hours discussing the countless side-splitting gags with my friends, and like I said before, I honestly never get tired of doing that. It's immeasurably sad that plans for a movie version of the show didn't materialize; that movie would have had a mind-boggling run at the box office. Friends may have been only about crude and vulgar tomfoolery at times, but you always ended up laughing your heart out at the irresistible hilarity that was at the bottom of it all . If sheer enjoyment was the only yardstick for measuring such things, then Friends would have to be the greatest TV show ever. But that's obvious. Or, as Monica would say, "I KNOW!"

A Monumental Moment

So it has come to an end. It seems hard to believe, even harder than laying hands on the book in the wee hours of the morning of the 21st of July, almost overwhelmed by excitement and happiness. The time has come to look ahead at a life in which we'll never again be enchanted by the magic of Potterverse; in other words, to look ahead at a depressingly unmagical life. How brilliant a writer would J K Rowling have to be to inspire such sadness amongst her fans just because she has ended a story, a ludicrously hard-to-believe, unrelatable fantasy? I took more than a day to read the book, withstanding numerous distractions, a truly awful digestive disorder and a splitting headache (all of which were entirely unrelated to the quality of the book), but never even for a moment during those 24 hours did I think I was being silly or childish in setting such great store by a mere book. It's almost immaterial whether the book is good or bad (for the record, I think it is the best book of the series); just the thought of never again experiencing the unadulterated joy of reading a new Harry Potter book is almost too dreadful to imagine. I know this may sound frightfully juvenile, but right now I'm very tempted to call J K Rowling the best writer ever. You can sneer all you want, but you'll find that much harder to do when half of the world's population backs me up on my statement.

So how satisfactory a conclusion to an epic journey is Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows? I must confess that when I first heard that the book was going to be only as long as Half Blood Prince, I became extremely apprehensive, not to mention a little irritated at JKR for cowing down to the greedy demands of the publishers. How could she possibly explain everything in such few words? God knows we Potter fans had done enough research on the first 6 books to know that there were more than a few loose ends that demanded detailed and convincing explanations. It seemed ridiculous, almost impossible to believe that JKR could squeeze in clarifications about things like the mysterious Veil in the Department of Mysteries, the many interestingly weird delicate instruments in Dumbledore's office or why it was important that Lily Potter's wand was good for Charms when, in all fairness, it was incumbent for her to devote all space to Harry's epochal quest to destroy Voldemort's Horcruxes. After reading the book, however, I've realized that it doesn't matter in the slightest that Ms Rowling chose to leave a million things unexplained. What she gives us in place of tying up loose ends is so gripping, so fantastically enjoyable that you can only marvel at her incredible knack for not disappointing her fans in spite of their colossal expectations.

JKR had said before the release that many would loathe the bloodbath in the book, and at times it does seem like she killed off characters just because there were so few deaths in the previous books. We have people dying left, right and centre in this one, and almost all the characters are perpetually injured, but that is to be expected in the final instalment of a series. There are many fight sequences and a grand battle at the end, and though you do tend to think about how spectacular these will look in the movie, the less-than-satisfactory adaptations that have come up till now make you appreciate JKR's writing even more. Dumbledore is a dominating presence in the book in spite of being dead, and the bit about his questionable doings in his youth is one of many masterstrokes from JKR. He always was my favourite character, Dumbledore, but this book makes sure that he will be remembered as the most intriguing Potter character of all, usurping the position from Severus Snape, who's given a bit of a raw deal this time round after his stupendous role in Half Blood Prince. The book moves at a lightning pace throughout, and this is not surprising given the depth of material JKR had to cram in even without the insignificant explanations the lack of which so engaged Potter fans for the last two years. The book is, to use a very clichéd term, a thrill-a-minute page-turner, as were all the other Potter books, but this being the last one makes everything that much bigger and better. The climax is monumental and awe-inspiring, and the fact that JKR manages to explain every little blood-Horcrux-hallow complication so convincingly even with Harry and his companions in the heat of the battle, fighting for their lives, speaks volumes about her narrative skills, though it must be said that the re-opening of the Harry-Voldemort mind connection is a little too convenient and leaves a tiny plot hole. The epilogue, however, is a big let-down, filled with cheesy dialogue and cheesier circumstances, but I guess we can forgive Ms Rowling one minor blemish; heck, I could even forgive her a hundred blemishes, after all that she's given us.

I can go on and on about every little thing that was so wonderful about the book and the very few things that were not, but the bottom line remains that this is the end, the sad and surreal end. No more looking up fansites for new theories, no more arguing with friends whether Snape is good or evil, no more rapturous delight at every new revelation by JKR in one of her interviews. I'm sorry if I'm sounding too gloomy, but believe it or not, there are probably thousands of people around the world who are crying their eyes out right now because the series has ended. Most certainly, this is a monumental moment, a tragically monumental moment. One thing's for sure, however: no matter what subject JKR writes about in the future, or how trashy her writing becomes, every one of her future books will be an instant best-seller. And I, for one, will not be complaining; she's thoroughly earned every bit of her reputation. In the meantime, I suppose we'll have the Potter movies for another 3 years to keep our spirits up. Ouch.