June 25 will be pop star Michael Jackson’s first death anniversary. Aabhas Sharma recalls how Jackson’s music influenced an entire generation of fans all over the world
Growing up in the 80s in Bhopal, when compact discs and the Internet were as yet unknown, my exposure to international pop music was limited. As far as my friends and I were concerned, Michael Jackson was not just King of Pop, but King, period. We quicky grew addicted to his music, taking posters of Kapil Dev and Steffi Graf off our walls and replacing them with that iconic image of him in black, name emblazoned in red.
His lyrics, his inimitable style, his clothes, the way he dressed and moved, had us all in thrall. We talked about him in class, at recess, in the school bus. Our favourite song was Black or White (thanks to the Indian woman featuring in it and Jackson himself doing a small Bharatanatyam step). We could not afford to buy the “cassette” of the entire album which cost Rs 60, as that was beyond the meagre allowance we got from our parents. So we bought blank tapes instead, recorded our favourites on it and played them till the tapes wore themselves out on our Philips and BPL “two-in-ones”.
Jackson mania reached epic proportions when he came to India in 1996. We cursed the people of Mumbai for being lucky enough to live there and thereby have an opportunity to see the man perform live. We cribbed that we were stuck in small-town Bhopal and had no chance to getting to see our idol perform. Every bit of news covering his India tour was the talk of the town. It was unbelievable that Jackson was so near yet so far.
Jackson slowly paved the way for other Western artists to enter our lives and while our fascination for him remained, we slowly started outgrowing his music. His personal life started to make headlines. Charges of paedophelia, the court cases, the repeated alterations to his face, the murky personality, were all things we couldn’t fathom much at the time. In time, even for us, his fans, it wasn’t Michael’s music but his personal life which became a topic of conversation.
On 25 June 2009, as news of his death spread, status updates and tweets were dedicated to Michael Jackson. Connecting with my friends on Facebook, I felt I was back in school, and Jackson the main topic of conversation. The memories came rushing back, and all of a sudden I was a teenager again
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What can one say about this flawed genius? Fame and fortune turned his life and sadly, even his death, into a media circus. Today when new artists crawl out of the woodwork every second day and one-hit wonders are often labelled greats, I feel a sense of near disbelief. Of regret at a life seemingly wasted, for someone who seemed to have it all, and yet had nothing. Of ineffable sadness for a man who was prodigiously gifted, yet desperately insecure and lonely. And of unstinted admiration for a man who was an entertainer like none other, and who moved generations with his music.
You were the world, Michael. Could there ever be another like you?