So I awoke and seated me down in front of my latest obsession and started to compose what I felt should have been composed. But I failed. Failed in expressing in legible words what I had meant to put down. And now, I sit me self down again in front of my obsession and the words still do not come. And I wonder why this happens.

Words are not going to be sufficient to describe what a son may feel at the end of an evening, where he has lived and breathed and existed in the shadow of his exalted Father. A Father in who’s reflected glory a son was able to live, survive and perform.

I am Amitabh Bachchan and I am my Father Dr Harivansh Rai Bachchan’s son and I have last night, lived within the soul given to me by my Father. I did not miss him, but I must be honest. When I gave the final curtain call, it did not become easy for me to control my emotions. As I closed my eyes and bowed my head in reverence to the exemplary audience, something broke my resistance and I felt vulnerable and weak. There was a sudden surge that ran through my body and crept up rather rapidly through my face and into my eyes. It was that moment at times when you do not want to stop. Stop the emotion, stop that feel, that rush of blood in all the wrong places, because you do not want to be overcome by any other force. With the force of my Father within me, what was this that was overtaking me ? I did not want any other rush within to replace what I had with courage and strength built up for the evening. And so ..

I did the next best thing. I turned and left the stage straight into my dressing room, with the shouts and screams from the enthusiastic audience urging me to come back. I did not. I could have not and I am happy about it. I desired to live with that moment. It would have taken me away from it had I returned.

Many came in to the room later - friends, organizers, producers, theatre managers, dignitaries, government representatives, EF … but I know that I was not honest with them. My acknowledgements were there for all to see, but I know that they lacked genuine feel. That feel had been usurped by the feel of my Father. And I do know that I need not explain this to anyone. But explain I must. When you are privy to the hope and expectations of those that have relentlessly only shown love and affection, then there are certain mandatory moral and ethical codes that need to be followed. And I think I followed them physically, but mentally remained immersed with those of my Father’s.

I lament the fact that those that were in my proximity soon after the concert, did not get the kind of affection and care that I would have wanted to give, but I do not regret it, for, I know that those that care for me, care for my emotions too. And last night you realized that and let me be.

For this and just for this, I do not have any qualms when I confess that I was not honest with you.

You are and will be extremely close to me. But when you are close to me, you are also close to several other ‘me’s’. Last night that other ‘me’ took precedence and I know that you will never question or argue on its genuine ness and reserve. Which is why you shall all remain forever mine and within me.

As I walked through the portals of the dressing room corridors on my way to await my call on stage, I could not but imagine a sense of being dwarfed by the thought of the several greats that had either been in the same environ as me, or had with their prolific talents privileged the very space where I was striding.

And as I sat by the wings as the last entry bells went off, every other thought just went out of the window, leaving me clean and clear to present myself in front of the audience and begin my chores.

The gentle murmur of a packed audience suddenly went silent. The lights dimmed, a few whispered instructions were crackled into the walkies, the music orchestra walked on to stage led by the able Viju Shah, son of the great Kalyan ji bhai and the audience applauded their presence. the entry notes of Madhushala strung up and after what seemed like an eternity I walked out to the front of the stage with folded hands - Namaskar, Bonsoir, good evening …

In the midst of the whistles and screams and the notes from the orchestra a sudden transformation took place and all that I had lived and expressed with my Father transferred itself into that one voice, that one ’sur’ that belonged for 75 years to the epic ‘Madhushala’. I was on, or was I really ? I recollect not. Poems, songs, folk songs, interpretations, reactions all followed in one unstoppable stream of events.

I was my Father, Dr Harivansh Rai Bachchan ..

I am Amitabh Bachchan, and I am my Father’s son ..