Apologies for the cryptic post last night. There was just so much jet lag in the system that it refused to allow me the liberty of voluntarily keeping my ophthalmic virtues in functional mode. These virtues are immensely vital to assuage many functions of the humanoid - most essential of which being the art of vision, given to us by the grace of birth by the manufacturers ‘upstairs’. They go by different brand names, the manufacturers. They are involved in processes which remain common to all and often remembered throughout the day in varied and diverse structured residences ; most often in times of stress and trouble, well almost always in times of stress and trouble. And despite the gloom of economic recession world wide, there is none of that whatsoever ‘up there’. Its business as usual ! So help me God !!

Abhishek’s 33rd on the morning of the 5th was brought in with a quietude and an affection of simplicity. The four of us - Jaya, Abhishek, Aishwarya and myself gathered together in my room and just held each other in silence and thankfulness to the Almighty.

Most thoughtfully, Jaya had brought along a few essentials for a small ‘puja’ - the customary SatyaNarayan Paath that we indulge in on most auspicious occasions in the house, the recitation of which accompanied by a small prayer giving the early morning New York bitter cold a homely warmth.

Jaya nostalgically remembered the moments of Abhishek’s coming - the delivery, the Hospital, the excitement and his early baby years - over breakfast. And then we stepped out into the fresh cold breeze of minus temperatures.

Most of the day remained in togetherness. Shopping little odds and ends, sitting by a wayside eatery with some hot tea and coffee watching the city flow by ending up with some very dear friends for dinner at a cozy small corner Italian restaurant. It had not more than 15 tables and could handle perhaps 30-40 people at capacity. The atmosphere was calm and sober and polite and casually dressy. We caught up with our friends and gradually observed the place getting patronized by others that kept coming in in a gentle trickle.

As time passed by the voice levels gradually increased, the music on the speaker system, gentle and lounge till now switched to dance. The trickle became a flood at the entrance and before long the place was a screaming whooping up wild and amateur dancing at the table, club. A table by the side had an engagement couple entertaining a whole host of invitees. The familiar yelp of ‘odododododododuuuuu’ when you run your fingers rapidly across the mouth as you scream engulfed not just the room but the room two blocks down the street. Persian or Iranian favorites took over on the audio from American Dance Bar and those not attached to engaged couple, moved in their seats and respective tables adding to the gaiety of the lot that had witnessed the exchange of rings nearby. The place was now a bustling, noise filled, shouting across to your neighbor to be heard, music and dance jamboree… And the doors to the entrance just never stopped opening and closing, causing much consternation to the inmates because of the minus breezes they were inviting inside !!

One of the guests’ chair got pushed by incoming masses wanting to pass by. Her face almost hit her pasta involuntarily. She a small built hot head took on the 6′5″ escort to the comely brunette that had executed the butt push. Apologies and calmed tempers later a loud scream and ….

OMG !! OMG !!! OOOMMMGGGGOD !!

A lady, on distant table comes running up and just keeps screaming and jumping.. I’ve seen all your films, I am a huge fan, please, please Cheeni Kum, Cheeni Kum, Kabhi Al.. Kabhi Khush… OMG ! OMG !

She is white American of Spanish descent !

I acknowledge with a smile, a bit embarrassed at this exuberance in the middle of all the other commotion. Mobile photographs and flashes follow. Her gaze so far transfixed on AB sr and her other friends on her table full of a mix of local NewYorkers and Spanish, now swivels to AB jr and Aishwarya and she almost drowns the Persian music and dance in the other corner with her enthusiasm. Suddenly our table has now become the centre of this great celebrity attention locale. The owner shows up and greets us pleasantly amongst bobbing heads and extra chairs being moved above them. The waiters have a smile and are willing to listen to every time a finger of attention is raised. Heads are turning in conversation directed to us. The women look at Abhishek, the men at Aishwarya. Smiles and nods of approval rapidly distracting them from their drinks and fetuchini , or however else you pronounce and spell the delicacy. Hoardes of the rest of the restaurant now wanting to be photographed. There is now just no end to the sight unfolding. Fresh gusts of minus wind chill welcoming fresh guests, causing extreme traffic jams in over crowded joyous boisterous venue, music blaring pitch now, Persian has given way to nostalgia, Beatles abound, loud known lyrics being belted out from excessive whine infected larynx… joy, noise, happiness abound…

My guest Joe turns to me with an expression of bewilderment - “Would you ever imagine that America is going through its worst recession as you see this..?”

I do not react. I become still and look out of the glass enclosures. A little incident earlier in the day comes hurtling back to me.

Abhishek and I had been to a store to pick up some clothes. Purchase over, bills paid we move out and say our pleasantries to the staff that attended on us. A young lad from Equador had been of assistance in the store. He takes Abhishek aside -

“I heard your Dad say it was your birthday today !”

Abhishek nods in affirmation.

A gentle almost sympathetic smile appears on his face - “Its my Mother’s birthday today too”, he whispers. “I wanted to celebrate the day for her, but we decided we couldn’t because there was no money in the house due to the recession. From the goods you bought, I shall get a healthy commission today from the store. I just wanted to thank you for coming here. I can now take my Mother out and celebrate !”

He kept looking at us in silence. And then his eyes filled up and a tear sneaked out gently down his cheek.

Same World. Same Country. Same City. Same people.

Two different visuals. Life is so strange. And such a great leveler !

I am numbed into silence and into ending today of what I wanted o say..

Amitabh Bachchan