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Sunday, October 11, 2015

Don of Bolly wood Amitabh Bhachan

My tribute to this Don of the Indian Cinema on his 73 rd birthday 

Happy Birthday Amithji 
73 years and counting years 
A tall lanky sad faced man with intelligent eyes had broken the strong hold of his babe mashayi friend Rajesh Khanna the romantic sultan of Bollywood for years where nubile women would swoon over his crinkling eyes and giggling girls by the gallon were swept off their feet .
One Deewar was all that was needed for the intense tall man and the angry young man was born as a genre into filmdom ,he showed that his creativity was not limited by being an angry young and later angry middle aged man but it strayed into classic roles of a romantic hero of a funny man where he could do comedy with ease sing songs dance do drunken brawls and fight so well 
his presence ,baritone voice once strangely rejected by AIR to their utter chagrin for ever in history his humanity his humility his affairs and his family all were part of every Indians life 
his fame went beyond the country he was as popular in distant Cairo or in the US of A  as in dusty UP and where natives imitated him 
even his hairstyle was adopted as a national one in saloons over the country for years
his excellent English diction made him a choice for voice overs and one could recognize the deep seated voice in all important sound bytes he became the ambassador of good will for several projects a business man and elevated TV anchoring as he doled out crores to the lucky few in his programme which shot TRP to new heights 
Wherever he was Amitabhji could carry himself wit presence whether he was beside the dead body of his friend Rajeev Gandhi wheen sadness wet his eyes or whether eh was lounging in a kurta listening to subtle poetry from his legendary father whether eh was giving company to a smoldering Rekha whose closeness to him caused national passions to rise and fall and who was a perfect partner in passion to the great man himself whether when he sand mellifluously Tere mere milannu ki hey raina to his short and seet Jaya bhaduri in Abhimaan or wne he became a pa to his son in PA whether he was up on a stage getting the Dadasaheb palke award or whether eh was broken in jaslok hospital with tubes coming out of everywhere and prayers for him from every temple mosque and church in the country for the people loved him like none 
he was always a person with great charm charisma and presence a great human being who was born to entertain us 
i wish him more years of continuing to make us happy 

An ode to the Mahatma

An ode to the Mahatma I love

There lived a man who was beyond one
He was one of the best to be born under this sun
His back was bent and his skin was wrinkled ...
He looked wizened and crinkled
But his heart was pure unalloyed gold
And he was so not when he was old
As a boy he felt for truth and was honest
Hardworking sincere and and earnest

He went to become a lawyer amongst the white
A brown one in South Africa is never right
And here he fought for the oppressed
With no weapons but the repressed

Love to all was his strength
And for this he would go to any lengths
He discarded western dress and style
And dressed in common Indian style

After African success he went around India in a train
For he wanted to see his country in sun and rain
He saw the hearths and homes of his country men
He poured love to them and never in vain

they loved him their Bapu humble and full of humour
a man of truth and one never for rumour
India under British yoke for a century and more
A nation which had suffered and was sore

Bapu felt the nation’s soul
He knew he had to play his karmic role
He had a tough task and an uphill path
To unite minds split by religion caste and wrath

He had to fight the mighty British
And not by using a sword and its swish
He moved in silence to spread his word of love
He went in hunger and made his vows

He went unarmed to where hatred swells
Into dens where animals in human forms dwells
He brought together men of different faith
Earning love and at times their wraths

And the day he won freedom for his India bit by bit
He was a sad man to see it like a beheaded sheep all split
Men killed men raped women and became devils
As the British left the country for the animals

The great soul prayed and moved amongst the violent
He spoke the word of love to many tyrant
He foresaw mans greed to loot and maim
And he knew free India too could be the same

And then one fine morning he was shot
Dead like a flower crushed like rot
Killed by the one he loved
He reaped what he never sowed

Did we deserve this man amongst our midst?
Did we know his greatness in his tryst?
Do we realize his message of love even today
As our leaders go about in an orgy of greed all day

Today let us be silent for a moment
And think of this great soul and lament
This Parramathma who was born in this blessed land
The land he tried to transform with his love

An ode to the Mahatma I love

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