Michael Jackson - The Man Who Made Me Cry, Twice

Is this it? Really? That’s it of the legend?
I first shed tears for him when I was 15. For no fault of his.

I was watching his interview with Opera on TV then. He was sharing with her about his childhood, followed by a tour of Never Land. And the song "Childhood' was playing on the background. He got me there.It was not the pop star I teared for then.

I had never been one of those teens who bought every one of his albums or idolized his every move. I only got to know about his music through my cousins whom I grew up with. They loved to groove to his dance hits. They even emulated his dress sense. Black and white colour themed dressing, pants that rid up an inch above the ankle, white gloves and leather jackets was sooooo 'IN' then. Guys went for the curly strand of hair that hung above their foreheads thanks to that icon. He defined “break dance” and” almost every teen thought it was cool to be “Bad” then.I enjoyed many of his songs but that was as far as it went for ‘The Star’.

It was the little boy in him that my heart went out to.
I cried for the abused, misunderstood and pressured child in him.
I cried for the one who constantly yearned for love in mysterious ways from the world around him.
I cried for the man who paid dearly for the price of fame.
I cried for the black man who turned white by choice more than by chance.
I cried for the man who had to wear many masks to survive the cruelty and scrutiny of the media.
I cried for the one who seemed to have everything but in real almost nothing.
I cried for the emasculated man who still held onto the immaculate boy in him.
I cried for the part of me I saw in that little one called Jacko.

Today again, I shed tears for that same boy whom I have never met or spoken to but feel a lot for.For the man who died without even saying a proper goodbye to his 3 young ones.

Goodbye Moonwalker. Your life long walk home ends today.
May you find happiness in God's arms and a new Never Land on God’s lap. And may you be endowed with all that you couldn't get to experience on earth, in both light and in darkness.

I still can't believe "This Is It"!
You have made the ‘final curtain call’ indeed.
Even in death, you never failed to ‘Thrill’ us.

Micheal, you really rocked. And still do.

Back!

Back.

Burnt.

Broke.

But with,

BagsFull.

hehehe

The Incredible "I"

A journey to the land of all Seasons....
The land for all Reasons.....

Bonding With The Big "B"

I have come to an understanding that I have quite a weird way with books.

Whenever I make a trip to the library or the bookstore, I pay attention to books that only calls out to me. Some of the books excite me in a way it did when I met my better half for the first time. I can feel this tingling feeling that arises from within and the urge to pick up the particular book on sight.

I can stare blankly at the neatly arranged books and I suddenly feel connected to a particular book or so and don't leave without it. I can spend an eternity in a bookstore and I got to really feel for the book before I feel that it’s crucial to secure the transaction at the counter.

To me, a book is not just a compilation of paper and ink. It is far more valuable than that.
When it comes to reading one, I have a habit of picking up chapters randomly in the book. Following the numerical order doesn't seem to appeal to me.It’s like subconsciously I choose to read what I need the most at that point in time.

I read and reflect upon the contents and I learn. It’s like I become a new me. I grow with each book that I read and as I grow, everything around me changes. Everything in me changes too.

When I was a child, I fell in love with Martin Luther King through an autobiography of his. I was only about 10 then. Through the depiction of his life story, I learnt that I should dare to dream and dreams too can come true.

And once when I was in my teens, I cried over a book entitled "Say, Goodnight Gracie" for almost 2 weeks. I became very depressed when one of the main character in the book, dies at a very young age in a road accident. He leaves behind a childhood friend Gracie with only memories. Losing him felt like losing a soul mate. Sounds crazy, but that isn't my point here. The point is how one gets connected to the unseen strangers that one gets to know only through the prints.

2 years ago, I started reading Mitch Albom's "Five people You Meet in Heaven" and was filled with great admiration for his narration of the characters that seem to come alive on every page.
Recently, I completed yet another one his special creation “Tuesdays’ With Morris". Superb!
I was filled with tears when I finished the last page. I yearn for more of his successful creations.

I believe very strongly every book has a message. And every message has an intended purpose for reaching me at the right time and the right place. What might be a current best seller might not necessarily interest me till I sense the unspoken burning urge to read it.

Books bring me closer to a world of possibilities, and the impossible as well. It allows me to dive into the abundance flow of creativity and limitless imagination.

Books provide me the means to appease my soul’s hunger for life changing experiences.

It brings upon a sense of security and warmth that one can experience only in solitude.

It’s a great way to pamper oneself without any form of regrets.

It is a luxury by itself, when one knows how to treat it.

It is not just about the need to want any book. It is about the want to need that particular book.

Each book is a treasure hunt. The treasure that is found at the end of it lies in the perception of the reader.

I love every page of it.

This bond with the binded. :0)