Today morning was about to be just another 'normal' day but when my sister rushed to wake me up, I realised that there was something to this day. She was aghast when she said, "Susan, Michael Jackson is dead." Did I hear right? Half sleepy and half awake, the news rendered me totally wide awake. I WAS SHOCKED! I WAS SAD! Growing up with his songs, dancing to his tunes on MTV, I could not believe that he was no more. Certain things are strange with me: I feel very sad - at the demise of any literary person I have read and loved, any artist whose works I have admired, any political leader with whom many images are stored. It seems that a dear part of me has sunk in and fallen apart. It was the same hearing of Jackson's death. To be honest, I did not enjoy Jackson's genre of music nor liked him after his various operations but something snapped within me.
As children, if it was break dance, it had to be Michael Jackson; If anyone danced wildly, we would exclaim, "Do you think you are Michael Jackson?" If there was any programme in school, it had to be MJ's songs. Unconsconsciously he had become part of our growing up vocabulary. During those days, we would talk about his plastic surgery and be astounded that someone could actually change their jawbone. His various fiascos during his life have always been read with interest and concern. While watching the BBC this evening, a close friend of MJ remarked: He was a very lonely man. I wondered. The man who almost had everything - fame, talent, money, and the stuff everyone dreams of having. Why was he lonely? Could not he handle the things that he had? Didn't he have someone to love and care? Was there not a single person who could pat him on the back and say, "Hey, I'm there for you. Don't worry." I can only wonder without knowing the answers.
Close relatives and lawyers believe that the doctors were giving him over doses of steroids to boost his immunity for the forthcoming comeback concerts in London. But then they are speculations.
Death unites mankind. Be it rich, poor, wise, foolish - all face death but then the manner of death matters. MJ started off well, atleast that was what was projected, but his end was disastrous. His body's autopsy will take six to eight weeks, say the doctors. "Artists are mad people" is the common saying. Its true but then at what cost. Decisions and choices we make destine our existence. One wrong choice and the consequences are unalterable. I cannot make a value judgement on Michael Jackson but then it got me thinking: What kind of choices are we making? Do we think of the consequences of our choices? We better be aware of whatever we think, say and do.