Whereas there will be enough (and more qualified) people who will talk about Husain’s work, I would like to focus on the way he lived his life because I think it could be a great lesson for all of us.
In my book, any one who lives a long and healthy life can make a living from what he enjoys doing, who gains worldly rewards for his creativity, and lives life on one’s own terms, is a success.
Husain was all these things. And his life, for this reason, is worth studying.
First of all, there was his attitude to his vocation. He was passionate about it, never rested on his laurels, and didn’t see it only as a means to an end. In fact, in an interview (one of his best) with Headline’s Today’s Koel Purie, about the rest of his contemporaries who had long since hung up their spurs he said, “Put 100 canvases in front of me and I will still want to paint them all.”
Every treatise on happiness stresses that it is vital to be engaged and passionate about your work. To Husain, it seems to have come naturally.
The second thing about this man and how his life could be emulated is that he appeared to have harboured no bitterness, held no grudges. Even when he could easily have painted himself as a martyr, a victim of regressive tormentors, he never played that card. In fact, any other artist would have milked his exile for every tear in the book. Not Husain. In interview after interview he played his persecution down, made his decision to take Qatari citizenship a matter of practicality.
Lesson number two: grace under pressure.
Third lesson: even when he could have surmised that his country and its people had rejected him, Husain never wallowed in self-pity. “ I am in India, even now, it is in my lifeblood, no one can take it away from me!” he said.
In the face of every evidence to the contrary, he stared bleakness down.
Lesson number four: Husain rejected chronological age. He made no allowances for old age, strode around the world like a panther at 90, and never gave up his zest for life. No retirement to play golf or grow roses for this man.
Other lessons: Husain displayed no false modesty. He had confidence in himself, and didn’t seek outside approval. When Bollywood rejected his films and commercial success eluded them, he still soldiered on. That’s what self-actualisation is all about.
More practical lessons: Husain maintained that the secret of his longevity, and rich and creatively-fruitful life was that he ate little and walked barefoot. I don’t know how scientific a fact this is but it’s worth examining.
Two final lessons: Husain unabashedly, audaciously, flagrantly loved women. “They are the most beautiful of God’s creations,” he often said. Two other creative people who’ve lived long and healthily, Dev Anand and Khushwant Singh, shared this trait with him. Perhaps it is a requisite of happiness and success?
And then of course, there was Husain’s sometime controversial materialism. He revelled in fast cars, expensive clothes, and the good life. Easily discarding the baggage of his earlier ideological beliefs.
These are the reasons why, as far as I’m concerned, Husain’s life should be a copybook for all of us.
Malavika Sangghvi is a Mumbai-based writer
