Thanks to the constant references in the media I was drawn to the blog of the supposedly erudite and articulate patriarch of Bollywood Shri Amitabh Bachchan. After reading his outpourings over the last two days I am gob smacked to say the least! Now either Mr Bachchan has left the task to a linguistically challenged mass murderer of the English language or Mr Bachchan’s vast repertoire doesn’t quite include, ahem, language skills! So what – he’s still a great star and a wonderful human being – right! Curiously for such a messiah, there’s a marked lack of sensitivity towards how the bulk of humanity lives. The latest in his daily deluge exhibits shades of "If they can't have cake, they must be diabetic", imperiousness. Shahenshah indeed!
But for all English language teachers across the globe, putting their young wards of classes 5 or 6 through the paces of rudimentary grammar, this is a readymade test paper. Start reading. The italics are my humble contribution:
From the blog of Shri Bachchan (http://bigb.bigadda.com/)
DAY 392
Posted on: May 20, 2009 - 12:17 am Prateeksha, Mumbai
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. ….
…………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 (Another recession triggered within the Bachchan family???). What did they convey to the world (What pomposity I say) 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’ (In the 1950s and 1960s which is when I presume Mr Bachchan went to school, how many people in India do you think had air-conditioned drawing rooms?) 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. (Presumably washing them wasn’t good enough!)
How did we feel in University when we could not get our bottle of Coca Cola, because it cost 4 annas - 25 paise ! (Oh cruel fate Рno coke for young thirsty Amit!) Or those delicious pieces of saut̩ed 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 (a new brand?) Cola, to drive in the luxury of the latest output, to walk into a popular restaurant without self consciousness (Strange I still feel self conscious in those specialty French restaurants but self consciousness, now that’s another thing), 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….
………………….
My anxiety.. my love.. and more !!
Amitabh Bachchan
My Note: For more such gems, visit http://bigb.bigadda.com/
4 comments:
All those years of bashing up villains and playing Mard Taangewala seem to have taken a toll on Mr B's language skills. Unfortunate. One expected better stuff from him. No Armani suit can hide these inadequacies, unfortunately. Thanks, Sundeep.
nope! am convinced these hallowed words are the quick creation of someone mass producing celeb blogs at INR 1.50 per word, or even 4 annas-25 paise! per approved character. What else explains the self consciousness and garbled idiom? orange loafers and black jeans- I think Govinda should take note! this post was possibly meant for his blog, and got mis-posted! OOps!
No Jay while that is a charitable explanation it doesn't gell 'coz there are enough malapropisms even when he speaks in person and even if he's not writing it he's obviously briefing someone. Read his earlier posts. They are even more hilarious.
Thanks Sundeep for the comic relief. I always knew that AB was a great comic actor (that drunken scene in AAA will always remain etched in my mind) but clearly this unintended humor takes the cake! or should i say the orange loafers!
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