As a child of six, I remember tuning into MTV. This was 1991. Michael Jackson was hotter than the summer. I remember watching his videos and particularly enjoying his ubersexual Moondance and his famous crotch-grab. I remember thinking, what kind of break-dance is this? India in 1991 was amalgamating and fusing with the world in many ways. In ‘91, break-dance was a Fad. I remember those mornings: they were loud, full of pop, and they were the first glimpse of a culture I’d eventually fall in love with.

In that summer of ‘91 I would tune into MTV to watch Michael Jackson videos every morning. I wanted to be Michael Jackson, not like him, but he himself. I wanted to be a pop star signing autographs. But amidst being smitten, I asked my father obscurely where Michael Jackson came from, and he said to me what I would never forget: ‘America’. I knew that if I had to become a pop star, I’d have to go to America. I asked my dad if he’d send me there and my father must have laughed at that notion.

My friends from school weren’t into music as such. They knew the hottest Hindi film songs of the year but they weren’t aware of Michael Jackson. That was my big problem. I was so amazed by him that it seemed nearly an obligation to introduce his music to them. It was a kind of handing down. I was proud doing it. His music made me feel so much cooler. And remember, I was only six.

I got into Michael Jackson because my cousins were fans of his. It’s funny how music makes you feel cooler almost immediately. It still happens to me. My cousins had Michael Jackson’s coffee table book: ‘Michael Jackson: Dangerous – the lyrics’. It was beautiful. And I wanted it. I pestered my father till he bought it for me. The cover had all sorts of things on it; it looked like a video game. And in the nineties, video games were hot. That book became my songbook; I started learning those songs and singing them. My cousin, who had a fine hand, started to draw Michael Jackson’s face. I started to copy his work. Sometimes I wonder if I loved Michael Jackson because he did. We’d play Lego and write Michael Jackson on the boards. We felt we were his greatest fans.

Every morning we did the same thing: we’d tune into MTV till our folks had had it with us and made us change the channel to BBC or something. We had a nickname for BBC: Baba’s Bullshit Channel. And ironically, some 18 years later, it’s the one channel I can’t seem to turn off or change, because that’s what the Breaking NEWS says: Michael Jackson dead at 50.

I’ve never been to America. But I’ve seen it through Michael Jackson’s eyes. He was my satellite; the dish against which every signal bounced off and landed in the corner of my brain.

I remember asking my father if he’d been to America. He said ”Yes”. He’d been there for my grandfather’s heart surgery in 1982. I had discussed America with my friends in school and they seemed to have another name for it: ‘USA’. I was confused. How can the same place have two different names? Were they the same? Just how big was America? Now I really wanted to go there. That was the only thing on my mind. I was so hooked that I started counting all the change I could find in the house to buy myself a ticket.

While in the States, my father had made a lifelong friend called ‘Marguerite McMahon’. She was very fond of my father and his family. She’d write to us on every occasion she could find, and birthdays were her favorite. She still does. I got my 24th birthday card a few months ago. I always looked forward to a card from her. I’ve also had a pet name for her: ‘Aunt Maggie’. She’d write about a lot of things in those greeting cards. Sometimes she’d staple photographs. They were teasers to me. Little glimpses of a land I’d seen in my dreams and imagination. Quite often she would write about what Americans did on their birthdays and she’d ask me if we did the same in India. I wasn’t sure. I’d only seen glimpses of America.

The kids there looked cool, they drank pop and ate at Burger King or McDonald’s all the time. They had girlfriends and it was okay to have girlfriends, very avant-garde. Those were my first thoughts. They had assignments in school while I had to write examinations. I hated it. Life seemed miserable. But that was okay, because I still had Michael Jackson records to listen to. And pretty soon, I was going to become him.

I remember watching his videos after his surgery. If I remember correctly, it was ‘Remember the Time’ on the ‘Dangerous’ album. I remember asking my cousins who that girl was.
”That’s Michael Jackson”, they yelled out.
”He’s white now? How did that happen?“ I asked them.
”Plastic surgery”, they said. And that’s how I knew it was possible to have plastic surgery and what it meant. I was also unaware of the meaning of being black or white, and the political and emotional repercussions of being so. I guess the song Black or White was nothing more than a pop song for me. What I liked most about it was that Michael Jackson danced with an Indian Bharatnatyam singer. And he could pull it off. Fantastic.

I also remember a rumor in school about him being a girl. It’s funny what kids come up with sometimes. And I’d always get into a fight with some kid who didn’t like him. It was the least I could do for him. After I became a pop star like him, I was going to sing with him. How could I let this happen to him?

The America I’d seen as a child was quite different from the America I see now. Because the America I’d seen as a child was Michael Jackson’s America. He wanted to Heal the World—that’s what I remember. He didn’t care if you were Black or White—that’s what he sang. It’s amazing how he made people believe that we’re no longer citizens of our individual countries but citizens of the world. He even wrote a song about it: We are the world. That was inspiring. He knew that through art we can bring forth the idea of change and work on it. I knew that in his America children will be safe. And regardless of what the controversies may say, Michael Jackson did a lot of good for a lot of people. I will always remember him as a great artist and a great humanitarian.

He showed me America via satellite—through his videos, his music, his performances and his album art. Michael Jackson will be remembered for a lot of things, even his troubles. But for me, he shall remain my first hero.

Look at what the internet says about him: ‘Singer, songwriter, record producer, arranger, dancer, choreographer, actor, author, businessman, and financier’. I guess they left out one bit: Michael Jackson, Black or White.

Thank you, Michael.

June 2009

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