Just a day before April 29, 2020, if anyone had asked me who my top 10 favorite male actors are, he would not have found a mention – maybe not even crossed my mind. I was not his fan. And If I am writing this piece after a week of his death with a deep sense of loss still in my heart; he surely was just not another accomplished actor for me.
What was he then? What was he to all of us?
On that day, I was depressed, edgy and knew something was not quite right.
In the evening I was aimlessly strolling with a friend and randomly stopped by at a food charity to donate some money to lend a helping hand, I felt a distinct lump in my throat.
Unusual, I was perplexed by my own reaction. A friend calls at night to tell how she has been handling the news of Irrfan Khan’s death since morning and how she could not hold it any longer and broke down in her bathroom. That lump in my throat was coming back. Another friend I spoke to the next day, couldn’t not speak in as many words, but the fact that he was deeply disturbed was apparent? Now it was clear, it was Irrfan who was causing all these. I thought this news in the gloomy times of COVID is perhaps accentuating our reactions. Had never cried over the death of an actor – he was my age almost.
Posts in the social media were overflowing. But something was different, the posts were not in the usual line how obituaries are written. The reaction of the people who didn’t know him personally but only through the roles, obituaries by the people he worked with, those who mentored him, those who gave him his first chance, those who he gave their first chance were all over the place. Those were not the words of adulation reserved for a highly talented, successful or accomplished persons, but the words naturally flow on losing our best friend, our pet – the one we knew too closely, the one with whom we shared a deep bond, the one we trusted, the one we could go to share our deepest fears, and talk about our failures.
How can the reaction towards the person he was and the persona he became on the screen be the same?
We all know how diametrically different they are. Writers and actors are famous for breaking our fantasy with their real selves. In the case of Irrfan, if only a thousand would be knowing him personally, millions knew him through his screen persona.
Sahabzade Irfan Ali Khan, popularly known by his film name Irrfan Khan. Many liked him on the screen but did not carry him back to their homes nor pasted his poster on their walls. The connect ended there. He was chilled-out but not conventionally cool. Who would give attention to a person who has the unkempt look of a common man, deep bulging eyes of a drunk man, no heroic swagger, no style of his own, no great voice or didn’t deliver his dialogues in the best theatrical way? He was not perfect. He did not fight for what he thought was right or was his right – he let go of things. He was honest in expressing his wishes but moved on when denied. He did not break down on losing but accepted failure with a smile – the smile of a resilient determined warrior.
Now perhaps I know why so many of us feel we knew him. We in him were seeing ourselves living our lives, losing things, picking up the remnants and moving on to rebuild our ravaged cottages and still smiling and waving at a friend as if nothing has happened. Our heroics lie in our ability to get up again and again after falling and after being betrayed by the world around us. Irrfan reflected all that were we.
He was our hero, he was us!
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