Here is the article written by SRK which appeared in Outlook Turning Points (The Global Agenda 2013).
I am an actor. Time does not frame my days with as
much conviction as images do. Images rule my life. Moments and memories
imprint themselves on my being in the form of the snapshots that I weave
into my expression. The essence of my art is the ability to create
images that resonate with the emotional imagery of those watching them.
I am a Khan. The name itself conjures multiple images
in my mind too: a strapping man riding a horse, his reckless hair
flowing from beneath a turban tied firm around his head. His ruggedly
handsome face marked by weathered lines and a distinctly large nose.
A stereotyped extremist; no dance, no drink, no
cigarette tipping off his lips, no monogamy, no blasphemy; a fair,
silent face beguiling a violent fury smoldering within. A streak that
could even make him blow himself up in the name of his God. Then there
is the image of me being shoved into a back room of a vast American
airport named after an American president (another parallel image: of
the president being assassinated by a man named lee, not a Muslim
thankfully, nor Chinese as some might imagine! I urgently shove the
image of the room out of my head).
Some stripping, frisking and many questions later, I
am given an explanation (of sorts): "Your name pops up on our system, we
are sorry". "So am I," I think to myself, "Now can I have my underwear
back please?" Then, there is the image I most see, the one of me in my
own country: being acclaimed as a megastar, adored and glorified, my
fans mobbing me with love and apparent adulation.
I am a Khan.
I could say I fit into each of these images: I could
be a strapping six feet something - ok something minus, about three
inches at least, though I don't know much about horse-riding. A horse
once galloped off with me flapping helplessly on it and I have had a "no
horse-riding" clause embedded in my contracts ever since.
I am extremely muscular between my ears, I am often
told by my kids, and I used to be fair too, but now I have a perpetual
tan or as I like to call it 'olive hue' - though deep In the recesses of
my armpits I can still find the remains of a fairer day. I am handsome
under the right kind of light and I really do have a "distinctly large"
nose. It announces my arrival in fact, peeking through the doorway just
before I make my megastar entrance. But my nose notwithstanding, my name
means nothing to me unless I contextualize it.
Stereotyping and contextualizing is the way of the
world we live in: a world in which definition has become central to
security. We take comfort in defining phenomena, objects and people -
with a limited amount of knowledge and along known parameters. The
predictability that naturally arises from these definitions makes us
feel secure within our own limitations.
We create little image boxes of our own. One such box
has begun to draw its lid tighter and tighter at present. It is the box
that contains an image of my religion in millions of minds.
I encounter this tightening of definition every time
moderation is required to be publicly expressed by the Muslim community
in my country. Whenever there is an act of violence in the name of
Islam, I am called upon to air my views on it and dispel the notion that
by virtue of being a Muslim, I condone such senseless brutality. I am
one of the voices chosen to represent my community in order to prevent
other communities from reacting to all of us as if we were somehow
colluding with or responsible for the crimes committed in the name of a
religion that we experience entirely differently from the perpetrators
of these crimes.
I sometimes become the inadvertent object of
political leaders who choose to make me a symbol of all that they think
is wrong and unpatriotic about Muslims in india. There have been
occasions when I have been accused of bearing allegiance to our
neighboring nation rather than my own country - this even though I am an
Indian whose father fought for the freedom of India. Rallies have been
held where leaders have exhorted me to leave my home and return to what
they refer to as my "original homeland". Of course, I politely decline
each time, citing such pressing reasons as sanitation words at my house
preventing me from taking the good shower that's needed before
undertaking such an extensive journey. I don't know how long this excuse
will hold though.
I gave my son and daughter names that could pass
for generic (pan-Indian and pan-religious) ones: Aryan and Suhana. The
Khan has been bequeathed by me so they can't really escape it. I
pronounce it from my epiglottis when asked by Muslims and throw the
Aryan as evidence of their race when non-Muslims enquire.
I imagine this will prevent my offspring from
receiving unwarranted eviction orders and random fatwas in the future.
It will also keep my two children completely confused. Sometimes, they
ask me what religion they belong to and, like a good Hindi movie hero, I
roll my eyes up to the sky and declare philosophically, "You are an
Indian first and your religion is humanity", or sing them an old Hindi
film ditty, "Tu Hindu banega na Musalmaan banega - insaan ki aulaad hai
insaan banega... set to Gangnam Style.
None of this informs them with any clarity, it just confounds them some more and makes them deeply wary of their father.
In the land of the freed, where I have been invited
on several occasions to be honored, I have bumped into ideas that put me
in a particular context. I have had my fair share of airport delays for
instance.
I became so sick of being mistaken for some crazed
terrorist who coincidentally carries the same last name as mine that I
made a film, subtly titled My name is Khan (and I am not a terrorist) to
prove a point. Ironically, I was interrogated at the airport for hours
about my last name when I was going to present the film in America for
the first time. I wonder, at times, whether the same treatment is given
to everyone whose last name just happens to be McVeigh (as in Timothy)??
I don't intend to hurt any sentiments, but truth be
told, the aggressor and taker of life follows his or her own mind. It
has to nothing to do with a name, a place or his/her religion. It is a
mind that has its discipline, its own distinction of right from wrong
and its own set of ideologies. In fact, one might say, it has its own
"religion". This religions has nothing to do with the ones that have
existed for centuries and been taught in mosques or churches. The call
of the azaan or the words of the pope have no bearing on this person's
soul. His soul is driven by the devil. I, for one, refuse to be
contextualized by the ignorance of his ilk.
I am a Khan.
I am neither six-feet-tall nor handsome (I am modest
though) nor am I a Muslim who looks down on other religions. I have been
taught my religion by my six-foot-tall, handsome Pathan 'Papa' from
Peshawar, where his proud family and mine still resides. He was a member
of the no-violent Pathan movement called Khudai Khidamatgaar and a
follower of both Gandhiji and Khan Abdul Gaffar Khan, who was also known
as the Frontier Gandhi.
My first learning of Islam from him was to respect
women and children and to uphold the dignity of every human being. I
learnt that the property and decency of others, their points of view,
their beliefs, their philosophies and their religions were due as much
respect as my own and ought to be accepted with an open mind. I learnt
to believe in the power and benevolence of Allah, and to be gentle and
kind to my fellow human beings, to give of myself to those less
privileged than me and to live a life full of happiness, joy, laughter
and fun without impinging on anybody else's freedom to live in the same
way.
So I am a Khan, but no stereotyped image is factored
into my idea of who I am. Instead, the living of my life has enabled me
to be deeply touched by the love of millions of Indians. I have felt
this love for the last 20 years regardless of the fact that my community
is a minority within the population of India. I have been showered with
love across national and cultural boundaries, from Suriname to Japan
and Saudi Arabia to Germany, places where they don't even understand my
language. They appreciate what I do for them as an entertainer - that's
all. My life has led me to understand and imbibe that love is a pure
exchange, untempered by definition and unfettered by the narrowness of
limiting ideas. If each one of us allowed ourselves the freedom to
accept and return love in its purity, we would need no image boxes to
hold up the walls of our security.
I believe that I have been blessed
with the opportunity to experience the magnitude of such a love, but I
also know that its scale is irrelevant. In our own small ways, simply as
human beings, we can appreciate each other for how touch our lives and
not how our different religions or last names define us.
Beneath the guise of my superstardom, I am an
ordinary man. My Islamic stock does not conflict with that of my Hindu
wife's. The only disagreements I have with Gauri concern the color of
the walls in our living room and not about the locations of the walls
demarcating temples from mosques in India.
We are bringing up a daughter who pirouettes in a
leotard and choreographs her own ballets. She sings western songs that
confound my sensibilities and aspires to be an actress. She also insists
on covering her head when in a Muslim nation that practices this really
beautiful and much misunderstood tenet of Islam.
Our son's linear features proclaim his Pathan
pedigree although he carries his own, rather gentle mutations of the
warrior gene. He spends all day either pushing people asie at rugby,
kicking some butt at Tae Kwon Do or eliminating unknown faces behind
anonymous online gaming handles around the world with The Call of Duty
video game. And yet, he firmly admonishes me for getting into a minor
scuffle at the cricket stadium in Mumbai last year because some bigot
make unsavory remarks about me being a Khan.
The four of us make up a motley representation of the
extraordinary acceptance and validation that love can foster when
exchanged within the exquisiteness of things that are otherwise defined
ordinary.
For I believe, our religion is an extremely personal
choice, not a public proclamation of who we are. It's as person as the
spectacles of my father who passed away some 20 years ago. Spectacles
that I hold onto as my most prized and personal possession of his
memories, teachings and of being a proud Pathan. I have never compared
those with my friends, who have similar possessions of their parents or
grandparents. I have never said my father's spectacles are better than
your mother's saree. So why should we have this comparison in the matter
of religion, which is as personal and prized a belief as the memories
of your elders. Why should not the love we share be the last word in
defining us instead of the last name? It doesn't take a superstar to be
able to give love, it just takes a heart and as far as I know, there
isn't a force on this earth that can deprive anyone of theirs.
I am a Khan, and that's what it has meant being one,
despite the stereotype images that surround me. To be a Khan has been to
be loved and love back - that the promise that virgins wait for me
somewhere on the other side.
- Shah Rukh Khan
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