Los Angeles, USA          July 26, 2008       8:45 am

An intermittent clutter on the banana tree to the right of my room window, wakes me up. A brown fuzzy tailed squirrel, precariously poised on the delicate branch of the fruit tree, moves gingerly towards an exotic looking flower that has bloomed near by. Conscious and swift in observing any unwanted movement, it reacts to the raising of my head and stops in its tracks. Fuzzy tail held high, motionless. I raise my hand. Squirrel disappears.

I marvel at their mobility, particularly now with my own rather sad immobility. I try to match squirrel mobility in getting out of bed. The only thing that disappears swiftly, is my hope, of matching Miss Squirrel. Miss Squirrel ? Ya ! Yesterday one of the respondents, drat ! such a legal sounding expression, ok, not respondents, fellow bloggers, raised an eyebrow when I reflected to the Almighty as HE ! Fair observation. Qualified enough for longer and sincere debate. But not today please !

So back to bed, squirrel, swiftness, mobility.

The body creaks, the breathing is blocked, the chest whirs its objections and the feet tremble their weakness. BUT…

MR AB ! GET GOING !! REHEARSALS IN A COUPLE OF HOURS AND THEN SHOWTIME !!

People, audience, fans, well wishers, ticket holders, promoters, organizers, colleagues…

They come first.

Fever and flu, just flew outa da window as swiftly as da brown squiggy, man !

Try and send you more photos..

See ya !!

Love and love..errr…in case you did not comprehend, thats ol’ me at rehearsal..
Amitabh Bachchan

A Hotel, the name of which appears in some Mumbai papers, Los Angeles, USA

July 25, 2008           7:50 am

So many get well wishes so many prayers so many cure ideas…so many responses !!

I am overwhelmed and grateful. Thank you for everything that you do for me. I can never sufficiently pay back this debt to you. Have not been able to since my accident in 1982 and the prayers that went up. It is a burden that I carry. A happy burden. A burden with a lot of weight. I like it.

Sometimes when I visit the mountains and see the porters at bus and train terminals carrying the weight of the luggage of passengers, I worry on their condition. Or on the condition of those that carry the palki for them that cannot climb hill roads at great heights. It is inhuman for me; an earning for them. So much dichotomy in life.

I pilgrimaged to Kedarnath some few years back. With faith, with religiosity, with belief and strength of prayer I attempted to climb the last 13 to 14 kilometers of steep climb just before reaching the temple. I could not. My myasthenia and asthmatic condition, my multiple stomach surgeries, just would not allow me to. After a short trying distance I was put on a pony, but closer to the divinity human power was deployed. I succumbed initially, but was too embarrassed to continue and got off, suffered my limitations, fought off my disability and managed. The Almighty doesn’t make it easy for you to reach HIM !!

I would wish for the burden of others to be on me. I would not, that mine be on them. I can build my own burdens; of gratitude, of perceived burdens of friendship and association, of allegiance and loyalty. These I contend with happily. But your burden of prayer and consideration, of your love and care, I carry happily, but fill myself with remorse at not being able to pay it back.

So thank you again for your concern for my health.

And to justify how sincerely I follow your instructions, I post you a picture from my bed. This is what I see in front, to my right and to my left…throughout the day ! Hopefully with prayer the picture will change. To a stage maybe and happy faces of an audience !! Hopefully !!

The burden of your love firmly on my shoulders, I remain -

Amitabh Bachchan

PS : VATSALA UPADHYAYA - I have noted and read each one of your Gandhigiri responses ! But I have not been able to find a solution. Maybe if you couriered this ’star certificate’ to me it would be the best option. The frantic pace of our travel and activity will not help in what you are desiring - a personal meeting. Love and thank you. AB

PPS: NOTICE, IN PHOTOS - HEAD STILL FIRMLY UNDER DUVET !! THE WHITE LUMPS ARE ALL DUVET MOSTLY COVERING TOES !!

Same Hotel, in Hollywood, in Los Angeles and in the US of A.           July 24, 2008                    8:06 am

I now have developed a fever !! And an inflamed chest !! And.. have successfully managed all attention towards me. The wife, the children, the staff, the production and the concerned bloggers !! And each one have their own home grown remedy for my ailment. I have often wondered at this. Generation through generation, grandmother through grandmother these medicinal and non medicinal treatments keep travelling.

Hot towel on face and nose, ginger in honey, salted tepid watered gargle, turmeric, haldi in milk, feed the cold, starve the fever.. hey ! what if you have both ! sweat it out, keep the juices going, anti biotic will do nothing it shall last a week, but I am on stage in a couple, ok 4 days, rest, do not strain, sprinkle eucalyptus on pillow, sprinkle in steam, sprinkle on forehead, sprinkle on chest, thats a lot of eucalyptus…

Da.. da da..da..dadadada na na da !!

That is short for head ache. Head ache through suggestion and advice !!

Oh !! And one last one from the wife..

SHUT THE COMPUTER  !! YOUR BLOGGERS WILL UNDERSTAND !!!

(see you later guys.. head under duvet !)

AB          

Los Angeles, a Hotel in Hollywood, USA                         July 23, 2008                     7:45 am

A cold ! A beastly cold and an inflamed throat now engulfs me ! Oh ! The horrors of the human body !

So a quick word with the family doctor in Mumbai and the medication has begun and hopefully there shall be sufficient repair not before long.

The weather is salubrious. Comfortable warm with just the essence of cool. We decide to venture out. Its been a while since all of us have done this. So to the movies. Back to back three films. ‘The Dark Knight’, ‘Mama Mia’, ‘Hankock’ and we come out looking like a pop corn vending machine !! So much pop corn !! OMG !! See. I catch on to modern internet lingua fracas fast !!

The street is inviting. No traffic. Blocked out to provide a little peace and tranquility. People move about aimlessly, chocolate cookies and ice cream in hand. A whiff of specially ground coffee permeates the air as you negotiate the pavement cafe. Excited squeals of young girls as they run past you. A proud father wheeling pram of newly born, wife affectionately entwined around his waist glancing lovingly at pink cheeked pacifier babe, staring in dazed wonderment. In the distance the strains of a lone electric guitar. A street performer earning his evening meal or drink. Further away a somewhat larger crowd gathers around a couple of gravity defying gymnasts, a portable belting out the latest hip hop. Here, a silver painted man, top hat and all, a paper glass in outstretched hand for gratuities. There, a mild applause at the end of calisthenic act. The performers move around the now dispersing crowd, box in hand for the coins. Hardly anyone drops anything in it. I notice the look on the faces of those heavily breathing actors. Its a look I recognize well. It happens the world over. The Latin Quarter in Paris, the Monmartre, Juhu Beach a crowded mela in Rajasthan everywhere the same attitude. Scant respect !! Scant respect for the street performer. Its for free damnit. I didn’t ask for it. I’ve seen it, well done, move on.

But the look on the faces of the performers has haunted me on every occasion as they  move about hoping for contribution. Its like seeking alms but with a certain sense of dignity, yet knowing that it is not mandatory or official for the viewer to give. The expectancy of what others think your worth will be; some generous, some not so and some not at all. Its an instant assessment of your job. An evaluation of your talent. Its the moment for us, when critic evaluates our film, our painting, our music. And when it is rubbished the look on our faces is much the same as that street performer, the gratuity in his hat that he passed around signifying metaphorically the number of stars learned by liner gives after months and years of our attempted creativity.

There is pathos in that look. The little girl from the performing troupe of rope walkers on Juhu beach, sent around to the onlookers to collect has that pathos when nothing drops into her small withered dupatta that she holds out. There is pathos in the expression of performing gymnast that has been denied his meagre earning by those that have walked away inconsiderately. There is pathos on the face of that artist in Monmartre that quickly sketched your face as you ambled by and have continued to amble by without acknowledgement. It has touched me on every occasion. 

I put my little contribution in hat. Size-ably more than expected. Almost to convey that I make up for those that did not and walked away. A smile of gratitude appears. Or relief, on the confirmed possibility of that much desired meal. Its an expression that disturbs me too. I walk away, without meeting their eyes.

There is a sadness in the entire episode. For some inexplicable reason there is sadness. On the plight of the human. On the different tests that HE puts us through. On our daily struggle and trials. On the inequality amongst us. On the inconsistency in our existence. We are definitely here with a reason and purpose. To fulfill. To complete. To overcome.

And until we do that we shall remain. 

I ponder over the evening in the comfort of my room. I wonder if street performer shall have similar comfort - of residence, of food, of existence.

I am a performer too. I am here for that. I will perform at sophisticated venue. I will not be required to send my hat around. People would have paid before. I shall be unable to do gymnastic feat and rope walking. I cannot sketch. I am no different in form from the other. But..

He a street performer and I…

Life..

God..

Kindness…

Blessings…

Prayers…

Fate…

Destiny…

WHAT…???

Amitabh Bachchan

Los Angeles, USA         a Hotel,                   July 22, 2008               11:08 am

A long and tiring flight from Port of Spain, Trinidad, a hurried connection at Miami and then into Los Angeles past midnight. Surprised to see fans at the airport even this late hour, we get in after a longish drive to the Hotel and the comfort of home cooked Indian food, considerately and lovingly prepared by friends of long.

The internet is not connecting very well and experts from India and here in LA talk of some changes in upgrading taking place with MAC to ME… whatever that means !! Email is coming in through fits and starts, but it is still not sending. They say it will repair on its own and any attempt to change settings on Accounts will not help. They are right. It does not help.

Los Angeles. City of Angels. So many vivid memories linked to this place. Right from the very first trip with Shweta and Abhishek as toddlers, excited at the prospect of visiting DisneyLand to more recent years of shooting ‘Kante’ in the streets here to the various occasions on stage during concerts.

But by far the most delightful has been the time spent in recuperating after my 1982 accident, joined by the family later and then being driven by a friend to San Francisco along the highway than runs along the ocean. A most picturesque and beautiful drive. The quaint little towns that you encounter en route and nature’s breathtaking visuals.

There is much desired rest here for a few days, before we come on stage again. There is wear and tear to be given attention to and some frantic flying hours to be contended with. The thought of being idle is discomforting at times to me, but I pay heed to concerned individuals who advise care and caution.

I have some homework for me that I carry along. Pending scripts that need attention. Methinks I shall devote time to them. At times it is interesting to reflect where one was when an important decision was taken. I hope that when and if I do take one, I can proudly say ‘thank you Los Angeles for helping me make up my mind’ !

My decisions on films that I have done am doing and perhaps shall do in future, have always been led by factors that have been guided by what others feel about it rather than what I assess. I am terrible at that. Deciding what to do is a malaise with me, authenticated with grave finality through the zodiacs. Left to myself I would probably not be anywhere. I love and prefer being guided than to lead. So, temperament and attitude of makers, colleagues and well wishers carry all the burden for me in this quest of mine. Sometimes they work out fine. Most of the times they do not. But I still remain adamant and true to my Libran traits. I would still tolerate a bad decision for me than the rigors of self judgement. And my argument in defense is if I have survived so far and so long with these attributes, I would rather not change. God knows what change would do. Yet, I do acknowledge that quite unknowingly, it is change that has crept in somewhat quietly in my life and been reason enough for my survival so far. So in a sense I succumb to fate and luck and the stars and occult or whatever it is that guides us supernaturally. But surely, that cannot be the mantra for life. Life, through ages of sane and sage existence has extolled the virtues of karma. Do your karma. The rest will be taken care of. But everyone does his or her karma with equal diligence and effort and yet there is inequality. So what is it that pushes one forward and the other behind.

We have never been able to answer adequately on this. And when we have no adequate answers we rest back on and take refuge with, forces unknown and unseen. They could be manifestations of what or who we believe in in worship and prayer. Or they could be beliefs more practical. Somehow, somewhere we leave the final decision to another. If it is not happening to us there must be reason and cause for it and that that reason and cause is not to be questioned. If we had an answer, we would get a finite result. If we are not, then it is best left to infinity. Or divinity. Whoever gives us a decision !!

So. Do my travails with indecision rest somewhere in the above ??

What would you think ? Feel like sharing it with me ?

Much love and care and all else that is bright and beautiful, to you -

Amitabh Bachchan