There is a sense of completion today. I have visited my father again through the day, and found myself groping for words and expressions to describe him well enough for the foreword that I struggle with for Madhushala. In between dubbing for ‘Aladin’ and conducting meetings with prospective producers and TV channels, a final draft is now in a state of readiness.

I use most of what he has said in the various prefaces that he has composed for his voluminous work and still feel wanting. So difficult to do justice to him. So difficult to do justice to parents, their selfless love and unconditional care.

I feel so dwarfed in their presence and now in their legacy that they have bestowed on me. Without ever wanting or asking for something, how did they manage to bring us up, within limited means. How did they cope with economic constraints. What did they convey to the world when they were unable to afford the numerous demands of their children. When was it that we realized that we could not match the affluence of our other classmates. What did go through our minds when we had to sit back, to reckon that our material position was different. I cried in despair when in school, because my Mother could not afford to give me Rs 2/-, yes two rupees, to become a member of the class cricket club. Why were we cycling it to our friends birthday party, where others drove up in chauffeur driven cars. Why wasn’t our drawing room air conditioned like my friends’ and why did I possess just one pair of jeans and a pair of loafers for all occasions. I felt embarrassed to be invited to the Vigyan Bhavan in Delhi when Herbert von Karanjan was conducting the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra, because I had just my one driven to smithereens pair of orange loafers and a black trouser that was never sent to be dry cleaned because it was an excessive expense.

How did we feel in University when we could not get our bottle of Coca Cola, because it cost 4 annas - 25 paise ! Or those delicious pieces of sautéed cucumber that used to come by in little hand carts outside the college gates.

Years later, when we got established in life and were in a capacity to buy crates of Coco Cola, to drive in the luxury of the latest output, to walk into a popular restaurant without self consciousness, to possess our own home far removed from the 10 by 10, 8 occupants ‘digs’ that we lived in, when in Kolkata, and when we offered grandiosely to our parents the option of asking for whatever they wanted, why did we get no response from them. Why did they not accept anything from us. Why, all they wanted, was that private little moment, when they desired us to sit with them and tell them what transpired all day. That is all.

These were our very own, who struggled and strived to cater to every wish of ours. Today they needed nothing. All they wanted was for us to spend 5 minutes with them and just talk !

My parents I have lost, but how many of you actually find the time, to sit by your Father or your Mother and just talk.

My anxiety.. my love.. and more !!

Amitabh Bachchan