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Just call my name… June 28, 2009

Posted by deewane in Uncategorized.
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I fought it with all my might, but it’s 4:47 AM, and I am drunk (btw I make kick-ass mojitos)!

Michael Jackson is dead and after my first reaction of utter and complete disbelief (Why?) the news made me sad. He wasn’t my idol, I hadn’t listened to his music in some 10 odd years and I did find him weird like the rest of the world. But he was a part of my childhood (from a distance thankfully, I think…oooh dead-guy-burn!)

Even though I don’t recall the exact year that he was first supposed to be in India on a tour but I do remember the frenzy. The era of only 2 channels on the T.V.! Javed Jaffery hosted a show every week on D.D. Metro either a month or 6 months prior to the impending arrival of the King of Pop. I was 8 or 9, definitely younger than 10, and I and Bhai would spend our days listening to the sole MJ cd we had (Thriller) and practising our moon-walk. Since I couldn’t understand the lyrics I obviously wasn’t that “involved” but Bhai practised MJ’s signature over and over again and then finally carved it on his arm with a compass needle. I remember thinking that was so cool, and if I didn’t have the pain threshold of an amoeba I definitely would have done the same.

I did do what I could though. Like when Mum got us each a helium balloon from the weekly bazaar (a special treat since it did cost Rs2/-, twice that of a regular balloon) Bhai and I, each tied a paper to the balloon string reading “MICHAEL JACKSON IS THE KING OF POP” and released them in the hope of it landing in the hands of another ardent fan. I am sure that happened (I still am bitter about the loss of that balloon)!

I also remember my cousin buying my brother 2 MJ posters as a gift on his birthday, and strangely enough while I vividly recall the image on one (it was the cover of his ‘Bad’ album) I have no idea of the other. We stuck it on the only available wall in the room, over our grandma’s bed, on either side of a Madonna poster that we got for “free” after collecting some n number of pepsi bottle caps.

Even Dad liked MJ’s music and let us watch Javed’s show on T.V., coz he’d watch it with us, we even taped some of the episodes because we had gotten a VCR recently and no one had even heard of reruns! And I remember being crushed when he cancelled his tour the first time around even though there was no chance in hell that I could have made it to the concert (I don’t think any 8-year old could have!) I remember not being this crazy about any other artist just for his or her art, so I guess that does make him my idol, even if mainly because of older sibling pressure and influence. I think one of the things I truly am proud of from my teen years is the fact that I never was crazy about any of the 90’s boy-bands, still can’t name any of their singers or songs. So Damn Proud! I did fall in love with Shahrukh Khan though, only because a friend was head over heels and wouldn’t stop talking about him. Did all the normal things like kiss his poster goodnight and write my name with his last name on all my notebooks, but just for the heck of it. He wasn’t MJ! MJ sang, danced, wrote his songs, and composed, had a female guitarist, bought out toy-stores for orphans and could moon-walk. He was the coolest person EVER. I am sure it had something to do with Dad reiterating at every available opportunity that singers are the true artists and actors just..umm…actors, nothing more. In all the years that followed no one could reclaim the hold MJ had on my heart, I didn’t love him, I respected him, with all that an 8-year old’s heart could muster.

And now the legacy of his music is demanding the attention of the world once again. Twitter crashed, 65,000 texts per second on the at&t network- pure madness. It might be short-lived but I am sure it’s not fickle.

I hadn’t listened to his music in 10 years. I haven’t stopped since yesterday. Your death made me sad Michael. I never knew the person but I loved the star! (Even of it took me 2 days and a lot of alcohol to write about him). I will miss you.

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