STILL THE SHAHENSHAH

Age hasn’t dimmed his aura; if anything, the luminescence that surrounds Amitabh Bachchan has only grown, born of a man who is constantly reinventing himself. A tribute

- Suhani Singh

In Juhu, Mumbai—pin code 400 049—stand two edifices that must count as the mecca of Indian cinema. The structures themselves inspire no great awe, betray no special aura beyond what any bungalow in an upmarket neighbourhood may be accused of exuding. But like with any shrine, it’s about who resides within. Generations of filmgoers have been so enamoured of the man—so filled by a strange energy at his mere appearance on that screen on which their desires are projected— that he seems to approach a numinous stature. Here, on the road outside, vehicles slow down so passengers can quickly take photos, even if it is just a shot of the wooden gate. Pedestrians refresh themselves with water from a giant earthen vessel and prayers begin for a miracle sighting. Vigilant safari-clad men blow their shrill whistles to ensure there’s no crowding. It’s pointless. There’s always one, especially in the evenings. From 1976 to 2000s, this scene used to unfold at Prateeksha, now it is Jalsa. There’s also Janak nearby, a kind of workspace, which has escaped attention. Not surprising perhaps, because it’s at the primary abode that the devout feel the magic of nearness. The hero they have come to worship...He Lives Here. And his name is Amitabh Bachchan.