What is it about this former filmstar that puts the entire political establishment on tenterhooks? The obvious reason would be the decidedly fractured 12th Lok Sabha in which Jayalalitha's cache of 18 MPs could tilt the balance either way. But that would amount to discounting her wiliness. In a sharply polarised political climate, she has clearly come to grips with the underlying lack of ideology masked by belligerent, passionate posturings. This was amply evidenced by her spectacular showing in last year's general elections despite political pundits and pollsters alike forecasting a rout after she aligned her Dravida party with the ``northern, upper-caste'' BJP. It has worked even more spectacularly with the powers that be in New Delhi. Eschewing ideological leanings as a bargaining counter, she has skillfully mouthed the euphemism ``the interests ofTamil Nadu'' to secure personal benefits. Besides keeping all future options open, this has the additional lexical advantage of stumping her foes in any war of words.

Perhaps learning from the teenage axiom about playing hard to get, Jayalalitha has also turned the rebuff into a delicate art. Contrary to her popular image of a hotheaded and emotional politician, all her snubs are carefully orchestrated to reinforce her, and everybody's else's, notion of her indispensability, while always leaving that little chink under the door for reconciliation -- albeit after relentless wooing. And ever alert to the mystic ways of celebrityhood, she realises the value of enigma. An Imelda-like obsession with excess is cleverly balanced with teary-eyed reminiscences about a scholarly life abruptly terminated by a family insistence that she bring in the moolah. An Evita-like rise to power is cleverly offset by laments about the victimisation of her surrogate family. And detailed ruminations about the present are liberallypeppered with teasers about appropriate action being taken at the appropriate time. All of which offer no clue about the surprises she may spring this week.