An Unhealthy, Unwealthy and Unwise Blog

A Tribute to Michael Jackson

It’s finally beginning to sink in. Michael Jackson is no more. But for the most part, after I received the early morning wake up news about his passing (India time), I was just too numb to react. I guess I’m just one of the innumerable fans feeling personally bereaved.

I discovered MJ when I was eleven. It was the pre-cable TV era in India and there was not much access to international music, especially for someone like me who at that time lived in small town Siliguri in West Bengal. I did catch a rare glimpse of his on VHS tapes owned by friends with relatives in ‘phoren’. I liked him enough but didn’t idolize him or anything – that honour was strictly reserved for the very non-musical sporting icon Sachin Tendulkar. I did have a book of MJ’s songs’ lyrics and ‘sheet music’, but that was a default possession which came free with an electronic keyboard. And I pretty much remained indifferent to that little book.

At the age of twelve my family and I moved to the big bad metropolis, Delhi, and I ended up staying at a property which had a cable guy as one of the tenants. Cable TV had just made its first few tentative steps in India and having a cable guy as tenant meant free and unlimited access to cable TV, then almost unheard of! As an aside, the MTV then was enormously different from its Bollywoody avatar today. The VJ’s, and more importantly, the artistes featured were all ‘firangs’. In fact we would be very surprised (and pay special attention to) any Indian (or Indian seeming) musicians – Rock Machine, Apache Indian, Strings… And then, one day, I came across MJ – and the ‘Black or White’ video mesmerized me to no end. I was hooked.

I really don’t remember what happened after that. Soon MJ became adored, worshipped, loved, idolized, etc by me, replacing Sachin Tendulkar or anyone else in my heart! By the time I was thirteen, I was totally smitten. Dare anyone say anything against MJ! Not only was I this besotted fan of his, I day-dreamt all day long about him and imagined some fanciful communion with him in my solitary moments. The MJ songs’ book which had received scant attention from me earlier became my prized possession. It had a big picture of his on the cover and I would hug it to sleep at night, and kiss it, god alone knows how many times a day.

One day I learnt that he was a vegetarian. If I’m not mistaken, it had something to do with his association with ‘Free Willy’ and a resultant respect for animal life. I was a Punjabi, eating anything that moved (oh, ok not anything, like the Chinese!), but how could I eat meat when my hero had relinquished it? Ultimately, the devoted fan in me won, and I remain a vegetarian to this day.

It was 1993 and at a certain point in time, allegations of child sexual abuse against MJ began to surface. I was too young then to fully understand what ‘gay’ or ‘paedophile’ meant (though, admittedly, today’s kids are much better informed). But I did comprehend that something seemed to be going wrong in Neverland. Then there was a spate of news reports about some of his idiosyncrasies, and the sobriquet ‘Whacko Jacko’ began to be abundantly bandied about. Friends would make fun of him and it started becoming ‘uncool’ to be associated with MJ.

Gradually, the ‘bhoot savaar’, the craze, began to wear off. Though I could never really say that I had become indifferent to MJ. A couple of years down the line he visited India and I yearned to be in Bombay for his concert, but knew that I would never be allowed to travel alone that far. I had to satisfy myself by watching bits of his concert on TV (along with my recently-converted-into-an-MJ-fan grandfather who was only 93!). At the concert, there was this girl in the audience who got invited by MJ to dance with him on stage. Apparently she fainted when he said ‘I love you’ and didn’t take a bath for days because MJ had shook her hand. God! Did I envy that girl or what!

But once the hysteria abated, I found MJ becoming weirder by the day. His marriage to Lisa Marie Presley seemed like a publicity stunt and that very public kiss was totally revolting. His new albums and videos were not a patch on his earlier work, and in any case I had already started veering towards hardcore rock music. His numerous plastic surgeries and ever-changing nose put him in the category of the freakishly bizarre. By now, his reputation was such that it got embarrassing to admit that you liked him. I remember sheepishly admitting to a bunch of friends that I had become a veggie because MJ had been my hero and idol at a point in time. They teased me for several days after that. They would playfully start singing MJ’s songs whenever they would see me. Being an MJ fan meant risking being a laughing stock. And as far as I was concerned, MJ was history…

…And then, one day in recent history, he just died. The news of his death struck like a bolt out of the blue. It was unbelievable. And I was suddenly filled with a tragic sense of loss. Memories of my young and innocent days came flooding back and I was overcome by a wave of nostalgia, those sweet, simple days of MJ’ing. I really don’t know what happened to me after that. I just found myself mourning his death. I cancelled all my plans, including doctors’ appointments, for the week following his death, and remained glued to the international TV channels and newspapers which were covering his demise. I just couldn’t have enough of him and would often find myself being moved to tears by his death. I couldn’t believe I had ‘rejected’ him after having been such a devoted fan once. It would hurt me personally when people would call him ‘Whacko’ or crack jokes at his expense. And now, it’s back to yesterday, i.e., my childhood and teenage years of complete loyalty to MJ. He is back to being my super-talented, peace-loving, humanitarian hero. And it’s going to be like this forever. I love you, MJ!

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Here’s a semi-autobiographical poem I wrote long ago, when I had just joined college… I wrote it for an On the Spot Creative Writing competition and it went on to win prizes in several places. Now that I look back, its pretty jejune and ‘purple’….but hey, what the heck, I was only 17!

It’s So Easy to Fall in Love

As I sit dreaming, I hear Aerosmith tease,

‘Falling in love is so hard on the knees’.

And though I don’t jump at every given chance,

Somehow I just can’t avoid such a cheap coincidence.

Even I was a kid, once upon a time,

Studies came first and love was a crime.

But as a tumbled into teenage,

I noticed that there was coming a change.

Suddenly my skirts got shorter,

Nails were filed,

I didn’t do as I oughtta’,

‘Cause I was no more a child.

One fine day, I saw the movie ‘Top Gun’;

Like those fighter pilots soared my imagination.

I realized that even I had the blues,

And before I could get up,

I had fallen for Tom Cruise.

He was so good looking,

So handsome, so cool…

I would daydream all day,

I was such a lovefool!

His clippings and posters adorned my room.

But alas! There came a day of gloom.

I realized he was happily married

And had kids of his own.

Sigh! Broken hearted…

Never again would I be love-prone.

So I stopped watching movies,

Lest I should again fall for a star.

I switched over to sports,

And got bowled over by a cricketer!

How wonderful he was,

So what if he was from Pakistan?

Always victorious,

Oh! Macho Man Imran Khan!

But then it was no longer discrete,

He was a ball-tampering cheat.

A middle aged playboy big,

And a Male Chauvinist Pig!

Then I turned into a music buff

And coping with life became tough.

This time, to mend my broken heart,

Michael Jackson took his part.

I was teased and tormented by my friends,

“Never fall for these musicians!”

It wasn’t even clear whether he was Black or White,

And I realized that they were actually right.

I heard people say

Naughty things he did to kids

On the pretext of play.

He was so weird, such a nerd,

And then, I didn’t even know whether he was straight or gay!

So I put up a sign in my brain which said ‘NO’!

I would look at no man.

Till I happened to see a fashion show

And went gaga over Milind Soman.

What a body, what grace,

That dazzling smile, that sculpted face.

The way he talked, the way he walked,

He was no less than a Greek god.

“Never mind his girlfriend, honey,

He would leave her soon for me!”

My standard reply would be that,

Till the time I saw him act.

And even though I was optimistic,

Secretly, I was beginning to think he was sick.

I thought I would keep my heart under lock and key,

But as if I hadn’t had my fill,

I found I was crazy about a video jockey

And that was Danny Mc Gill.

But on Danny I didn’t make a lot of fuss,

He was just a small time crush!

Finally it was time to change my tactics

And bring practicality into practice.

I decided to come down to earth.

In Delhi, and in my college,

Of guys there was no dearth.

So I didn’t try to avert my fate

When I realized I had fallen for a classmate.

To me our common friend came to confide

That this time it was from both sides!

How time ‘flied’,

He promised me the world,

Till I realized, he had lied

And had made the same promises to another girl!

Every time I fall in love,

I fall down with a thud.

Crash, boom, bang,

And nipped in the bud.

You must be bored now,

Thinking what else is in store.

Well, just thought I’d tell you,

I have fallen for that cute thing next door!

We go for long walks

He listens, I talk.

Sometimes he comes to my house, or I visit his.

He is so very cute

And I call him my ‘Prince’.

He is so different, and I’m so happy,

For Prince is not a guy, but a Labrador puppy!

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