Prateeksha, Mumbai      May 30, 2008      10:03 am

(to be read in continuation with DAY  39)

Prayer and reverence were not a mandatory occurrence in the house. We were never guided into following a particular divinity. If we felt pious we went ahead and did what came from within.

My early years of school were spent in a Convent and later in a Christian Missionary establishment. Going to Church or the Chapel was a part of a voluntary curriculum. Around that time my Father translated the Gita in the language and rhythm of the Ramayan, a very unique rendering initiated by a gentle and benign sage of his acquaintance, and in the mornings the four of us in the family would sit and sing from it together. During College days I was taken by my Mother to visit our relatives from her side ; all Sikhs, land owners and all farmers in Punjab and UP, in Lucknow and Jullunder and Sirsa and we paid our respects at Harmandir Saheb in Amritsar. The peace and tranquility and the ‘vani’ of the Granth still rings in the ears and the purity of the dip in the Holy water body around the Golden Temple a heavenly feel that has remained with me for years. When my Mother passed away we took her ashes to the Sangam in Allahabad, to Haridwar and Varanasi and Chitrakoot – a location she was extremely attached to, and we ended that journey at Harmandir Saheb where we were joined by all her relatives in prayer. My cousins from my Mother’s elder sister recited the Granth the entire night as my Mother lay in Prateeksha waiting to be put to flames the following morning. The blessings from the priests form a dedicated presence in my house and in my Mother’s room which I have kept the way she left it, as I have my Father’s room.

When I came to Mumbai to pursue my current profession I stayed for a very extended period of time with one of my dearest friends in the city, Anwar Ali, the younger brother of the great comedian, Mehmood. During the shooting of ‘Bombay to Goa’, my first film as leading man, Annu and I visited Tirupati together; our first visit. Annu’s older sister Baby Apa who looked after us like her own children, prayed for our well being at the Haji Ali Dargah. It is a place of worship that Annu and I visit several times in the year. That and a smaller dargah at Worli sea face. After which I bring him along to SiddhiVinayak. During my overseas visits I have had the privilege and the reverence of some of the greatest places of worship. From Rome and St Peter’s to England and its historic Church’s, even a visit to the Vatican and a personal audience with the last Pope. My dear friend Anil Ambani and I have through his meticulous organization been able to seek blessings at BadriNath, KailashNath and AmarNath and some of the great temples in Gujarat. Amar Singhji, a family member set up my recent visit to Dwarka and PashupatiNath in Kathmandu, Nepal. Some of my dear producer friends in Chennai have given me the honor of paying obeisance to prominent shrines in the entire Southern region of our land – temples, churches and mosques. I have even, with them, performed the rigorous and disciplined pilgrimage to Sabrimalai with the mandatory 40 days of abstinence. During my near fatal accident in 1982 on the sets of ‘Coolie’ my room in the ICU and the space under my pillow used to overflow with sacred waters from every corner of the world – the ‘aab e zam zam’, ganga jal,  the Holy Mother Mary and threads in the hundreds and ‘vibhuti’ from various temples a symbol of the prayers offered by millions for my life.

After all this, would I now go to the Almighty to ask for something ? All the above is my greatest blessing and gift. I ask for nothing. I believe that there is a hidden force that exists, one that we cannot see. There is so much in the universe, in our world, that is beyond explanation, answers for which we do not have. I revere and respect that. I go to HIM to give my thanks. To seek strength and protection to exist with honor and grace. I cannot prevent the media from making it look like a public spectacle. I do not and never have invited them to follow me. They must do their job as must they do and I mine. My religiosity is my democratic prerogative in a free society. No one has the right to question it or to paint adverse malicious comment. My visit of worship is my private moment by constitutional decree and I am not obliged to divulge my purpose. Media will always have the right to speculate on it. I may agree or disagree with it but shall fight with my life for their right to express it.

The portals of divine presence belong to no particular individual. HE is the only VIP. In HIS presence all are equal. I deny any special treatment meted out to us. For better people management certain locations have intricate procedures in place. If it is accessible to all and if I fall in any one legally programmed category I shall avail it. My presence there is that of a devotee; as one with the others.

If my visit is an inspiration I feel blessed. Inspiration is important for the human breed. It is important for progress, in art and literature and speech and belief, in our daily lives in our very existence. We are inspired to do better to improve to correct our faults to better ourselves and society.

But I will not be inspired by wrong thought and its ugly manifestations.

I am most disturbed and immensely upset and angry by anti secular comments made by certain elements on my blog. I shall not mention them by name but they must know that they will never be entertained or acknowledged here. They are ignorant and wrong in their assessments and accusations. May the LORD forgive them for they know not what they do or say !

Yes I am a common ordinary man. My beliefs and actions are similar to every other. I shall bow my head, be servile and subservient to an inspiration of faith.

Because it is our tradition.

And because my Father writes –

“Manushya ko apni parampara se bahut door nahin jana chahiye”

Human beings must not go too far away from their tradition !

In hope and peace,

Prateeksha, Mumbai       May 28/29,  2008            12:34 am

Devoted Friends, 

Your responses to my visit to the temple have been overwhelming. And even though I had wanted to perhaps talk of other matters, I must dwell on this a little more because some very valuable and interesting observations have come up.

Many amongst you wonder what I ask for from the Gods when I am in their presence and the need for me to make a public spectacle of it. Others complain of keeping devotees waiting in cues whilst we get special treatment. Many amongst you and a large majority, draw inspiration. And some misguided elements mischievously and wantonly make disgusting non secular remarks.

A new born child has no idea of what religion is, among several other things they have no idea of. Their upbringing their parenting guides them into  the world, into life, into belief. My Mother was a Sikh, my Father a Hindu. Neither of them ever deliberately forced me into following a particular religious thought. I grew up with my Mother reciting the verses and virtues of the Granth in one ear and the Ramayan in the other through my Father.

My apologies -

I wrote an entire piece on this further and the internet connect went off and i have lost it all.

I am so frustrated and angry.

I must now rush to several promotional activities for Sarkar Raj and shall end for now but I promise I shall complete what I can remember from memory and put it up.

Urghhrgh… so annoyed !

Amitabh Bachchan

Prateeksha, Mumbai May 27/28, 2008 12:05 am

The walk last night or rather early this morning to SiddhiVinayak was fulfilling. Walking bare foot has its own hazards but where there is faith and resolve, obstacles seem to dwindle away. The tar roads, still warm from the aggressive sun in the day are fairly comfortable but the cobbled portions due to its uneveness causes some discomfort. The people were lovely. They come around, hundreds of them all walking in the same direction towards a common goal. There is excitement among them and smiles and a certain decorum. Intermittently, shouts of ‘Ganpati Bappa’ break the general silence. And the entire mass of people join in in unison -’Morya !’

There is always strength in a slogan when a hundred voices give it common lung power. Crowds at a football stadium cheering for their team sing songs or shout cheers together. The stadium reverberates and the players feel a sense of belonging. Some energy transformation must physically be in operation. Atheletes at meets ask for the audience to clap for them to give themselves that extra impetus for a better performance. Live performers on stage would crumble and perish if the audience failed to applaud. Battle cries in the army fill that extra adrenalin needed to combat a difficult enemy. Bhajans in temples and the hymns in church provide in us more than adequate religosity. Workers on the roadside manually pushing or pulling a weight give the exercise a common chant..

Sound !!

Sound in unison has the power to become physical. Opera singers when reaching higher notes have been known to crack wine glasses. Our own classical ragas have the capacity to bring on rain and to bring on emotion.

When a hundred voices chant ‘Morya’ and continue to chant it as we walk along, the pain, the distance, the surrounding becomes a distant aberration. As you emit the words from your own mouth and throat, apart from the devotion that envelops you, there is a peculiar strength that manifests itself; a strength that somehow you never knew existed. A strength spiritual in nature but providing you with energy that is physical. It propels you. Your stride suddenly becomes lighter and stronger. The body responds with unusual vigor. Which reserve has been wakened no one knows and no one cares. There is just strong movement. A movement that is ignorant of the sharp obstacles on the street, the rough surfaces, the traffic that goes by with the odd window opening to screams of recognition. Sometimes the name is mentioned, most of the time it is the name of your recent film, or a film that they identify you with -

‘aye Bunty Babli !’

‘arre Bhooth Nath !’

And you move along, oblivious of all else; blinded in the eye by the lights and flashes of the media that follows the entire 4 hour walk and blind to the stories that they would make of this private act.

As you approach the temple a sense of urgency grips you. Your pace increases. The feet are now sore and each step sends a shooting pain through the entire body. They are not used to being bare. Too cared for with elegant expensive foot ware. But you move regardless. Mass movement has the capacity to overcome all that. The chants now match the speed of your pace. Its like clawing your way up to the crescendo of a symphony, the final electric moments of the sitar in the classical raga. The crowds along the roadside increase in numbers. A gentle roar develops and culminates into one continuous deafening mix of excitement. The chants continue. The sitar and symphony at its maddening peak. Media frenzy increases. Security personnel now working overtime screaming and pushing to keep the path clear. Cameras flashing. Chants. Crowd frenzy. We holding each other to keep the group together. In through the electronic scanners, the flower vendor holding his hand out with his basket of ‘mala’ and offerings, paying and grabbing them for all and then guided into the portals where Ganesh resides, a tush half broken and his trunk flowing unlike any other Ganpati in the other direction. The cool marble on the floor a soothing relief to the arduous walk and damaged blistered feet. The ladies cover their heads in reverence. Jaya has joined us now, she not being able to walk because of a bad knee. We are now in front of HIM !

It is quiet. And peaceful. And sombre.

Somewhere in the back a drum starts up a beat. The main priest lights the ‘aarti’ and with deft movement invokes the God. The singing starts. Crowd joins in. A rhythmic clap almost pleading Ganesh to awaken this wonderful ‘mangal’ morning and accept the prayers of his devotees, rings in and echoes inside the deep ceiling. People in various modes of prayer now gently swaying, hands folded, heads bent, lips moving but not divulging their contents. An emotion swells up and travels to the insides of the eyes. They moisten and threaten to flow out. Thank you Lord. Thank you Lord for giving us, for keeping us, for blessing us. You have been generous and kind. What may I have done to deserve this ? Thank you Lord. Just… thank you !

No one speaks in the car as we drive back. Jaya, Abhishek, Aishwarya quiet, contemplative.

I look at the road in front. Is this the way we just walked on. The luxury of the automobile so effortlessly covering the rigors of the road. Just a few hours ago we had set off with prayer and sweat and pain and now we go back. In peace ?

ये महान दृश्य है, चल रहा मनुष्य है,
अश्रु, श्वेद, रक्त से
लथ पथ, लथ पथ, लथ पथ
अगनीपथ! अगनीपथ! अगनीपथ!

This is a wondrous sight. Mankind is moving drenched in blood, sweat and tears -

the path of Fire ! the Path of Fire ! the Path of Fire !