The concept of perfection and the endless effort to achieve it has been documented at length, both in art and in real life. But what sets apart the individuals who truly achieve a level of perfection from the pretenders? One may argue that the former are never satisfied and never believe that they have achieved perfection in the first place.

Going through Abhinav Bindra’s autobiography, A Shot at History, the other day, I could not help but draw some parallels and differences between it and another masterpiece: Darren Aronofsky’s noir film Black Swan, starring Natalie Portman as a ballet dancer obsessed with reaching the pinnacle of her chosen profession.

Bindra will go down in history as the winner of India ’s first ever individual Olympic gold medal. But impressive as this fact is alone, what is more striking is the feverish approach the shooter takes to being the best in his field. From making minute adjustments to the rubber sole of his shoes to waking up at 5 AM to jog( thus refuting the myth that “shooters are a bunch of paunchy geeks”, as the author puts it), Bindra shows the reader what it truly means to want to achieve something, and how far one must come mentally and physically in order to achieve it.

Aronofsky’s Nina, played brilliantly by Portman, who is rightly regarded as the one of the finest actresses of her generation, also displays the same mania for her dance. She concentrates on getting every miniscule detail of her posture and her movements right, so much so that at one point in the film, her director has to tell her to “let herself go”. He feels she has already done what is required in terms of technique and body mechanics, and possesses the grace and innocence to play the White Swan; what she now needs to do is to push herself mentally in order to be the luscious, conniving and totally bitchy Black Swan. The latter is tough for her as it means she has to actually get into the psyche of a mere literary character, not someone who is real, and someone who is poles apart from who she is in real life.

While the majority of Indians with access to a television set now know how Bindra’s fantasy reached its climax, Nina’s did not reach the fairy tale ending it was supposed to. Bindra won the gold medal at the 2008 Olympics and recently was crowned the National Champion. Nina on the other hand, produces the performance of her life in the film, but one that takes a toll on her life, sapping the very energy out of her being, so that with her last breath, as she lies collapsing on the stage, she is barely able to mutter “Perfect.”

So while the readers may not reach consensus as to whether Nina was conventionally successful, no one likes a sad ending. The purpose of this piece is to try to analyze just what leaves just a pleasant after taste in Bindra’s case, and just why we can’t ever recall Nina’s brilliance with more than a somber nod.

What I propose is the question of context. The singular point of uniqueness, apart from his unshakeable determination of course, that struck me reading Bindra’s autobiography was his total and complete refusal to rate himself vis a vis anyone else. The theme of a single minded and purposeful thrust, without regarding anything else in the universe as relevant, is impressive. So it is only Bindra and his gun when he shoots; nothing else matters. He doesn’t compete with anyone not because he cannot, but because he believes the only way to be truly satisfied with one’s performance is to compare it against the benchmarks one sets for oneself.

In contrast, Nina’s is a troubled soul. She faces constant competition from Mila Kunis, the attractive and vivacious girl, not only for the lead role in her dance, but also for the affections of her director. She is insecure to the very core, as the woman she has just replaced haunts her in dreams and in waking daylight. Because she can never be sated, she turns into the Black Swan, as opposed to merely playing the character. It should be understood that the transformation, while critical to her brilliant performance, robs her of herself and sucks all life from her by the time she is done. This passion is destructive and consuming. Nina’s competition finally becomes her very own alter ego. So in a way, she too, is competing only with herself, but then again, in this interim, she has lost all sense of self.

Perfection is dangerous.

Rishi Poptani