What an incredible flood of emotion and respect and feeling for my dear Mother and the spontaneous expression of togetherness in the huge responses that have filled not just the blog but my heart as well. A thank you at the end of all this seems misplaced and inadequate, so I shall abstain from it. But you know very well now how I feel. You have been with me for more than a year and it would be stupid of me to not be able to understand each of you. I would rather respect that understanding than extend a most limp thank you.

Fatima has been overwhelmed too with all the prayers that went up for her ailing Father from all of us and, after the Almighty, has felt, it was the prayers that saw her Father through the delicate and life threatening surgery. She now hopes and prays that he heals well. We wish the same.

The new face on the face page is a still from the film ‘RANN’ - a moment of contemplation before taking an important decision in the film. The words are from a poem of my Fathers, an extract that I thought expressed his mind, his thought, but in a sense reflected the thoughts and minds of many among us.

“छप चुकीं मेरी किताबें पूरबी औ’ पशचिमी - दोनों तरह के अक्षरों में ,
औ’ सुने भी जा चुके हैं भाव मेरे देश औ’ परदेश - दोनों के स्वरों में ,
पर ख़ुशी से नाचने को पाँव मेरे उस समय तक हैं नहीं तैयार जब तक ,
गीत अपना मैं नहीं सुनता किसी गंगोजमुन के तीर फिरते बावले से .
अंग से मेरे लगा तू अंग ऐसे , आज तू ही बोल मेरे भी गले से .”

“chhap chukin meri kitaben poorabi au’ paschimi - dono tarah ke akhshron mei

au’ suni bhi ja chuke hain bhaav mere desh au’ pardesh - dono ke swaron mei,

par khushi se naachne ko paon mere us samay tak hain nahin taiyaar jab tak,

geet apna mai nahi sunta kisi gungojamun ke teer phirte baavale se.

ang se mere laga tu ang aise, aaj tu hi bol mere bhi gale se .”

my books have been printed in the alphabets of both the Eastern and Western worlds

and my feelings have been heard in the voices of those within and beyond my land

but my feet are not ready to dance in that happiness until the time

when I shall hear my song being sung by some wild wanderer on the banks of the Ganga-Jamuna.

embrace your body with mine in such a manner, that you speak today not just from your throat but from mine as well.

Translations ! They are a curse ! They depict everything that does not belong to the piece translated !

The oneness of two beings, held together by affection, or love, or respect, be such that when one speaks it sounds as though the other speaks. Speak not from your vocals but mine, says the poet. Such is the nature and understanding of this togetherness. The formality of his words being expressed in different languages and different voices of differing worlds by diametrically opposite cultures, is an accomplishment of no small mean. But that is not what the poet believes as his ultimate achievement, his joy, his ecstasy. His ecstasy lies in that visual of a ‘bavala’, that wild almost bohemian wanderer without a care in life, with no recognition or status or position, aimlessly moving almost by himself on the banks of the sacred Ganga-Jamuna rivers, singing the verses of the poet’s song. That is the moment of happiness and joy, a moment that would move his feet into dance, because the wanderer is the common man, the soul of the earth, the true representative of any living society or culture. It has always been his voice that has prevailed, that has moved revolution, that has initiated change, that has been the conscience and the heart of the living human. When he will identify with your work, your words, your ideology, your philosophy, your politics, your beliefs - then shall it be the moment of achievement.

Let us embrace each other, let us join our physicality, our minds and bodies to each other in such a manner that your words come from my vocals. What you express then becomes no different from my expression, what you feel is no different from my feelings, what you would understand would stand the test of any of my understandings. Ah ! What a utopian world we would live in then !!

Do we not in this extended family bear similar thought ? Does not my pain and struggle move you to feel its presence ? Does not my sadness fill you with emotion ? I feel the pain physically, but you write to me of your tears, of your physical manifestation of it. Is this not a strange connection, a togetherness ? When I laugh with excitement, or feel the mirth, do you not explode in smile or laughter ? Does not my achievement and joy fill you with joy as well ? And does not your grief fill us with sadness. Why then did we all get together to pray for Fatima, to hold hands with Jasmine in her hour of sorrow, or to celebrate 81 years of Dorothy Madigan !

We were all joining hearts and minds through a medium that a year ago never existed. We came together and then we suddenly started knowing each other and we felt a oneness. You spoke through my voice and I through yours !

My Father’s words became prophetic. I saw in them what we we saw in each other. And that is why you find it where it should be - at the very beginning.

The fear of undergoing any one of the numerous penances prescribed by FmXt, has worked. I was up with a start early and bounded for the gym like a rabbit out of its cage. The junk is down to negligible and a desire to run a constructive existence while my friend repairs, has been kick started. Decisions pertaining to work are formulating and meetings in that direction may soon be conducted from this exotic isle. Some proposals of starting some mild mannered schedules from across the Arabian Sea are in process.

As a token of my gratitude to all, I wanted sincerely to take up one of the suggested penances of replying to all the comments, irrespective of whether I was at fault or not. I began with some earnestness, but finding Shankar of Abu Dhabi at the beginning of every DAY scared me stiff and I stopped right there, wondering how on earth he was managing this feat when others had been so earnestly trying and failing !! So there shall now be a wait hopefully not extending for too long a period when an attempt shall be made towards this marathon. Actually the task is daunting, but not insurmountable. If only the net or the server or the word press or whatever mechanism it is that works this blog, would come back to the next comment after my reply a little faster ! Big Adda, I hope you are listening..

Good night then dear all… sleep well..

Amitabh Bachchan