We were walking along a footpath, Math classes had just ended and the bus stop was about a mile away. The path led across paddy fields; the cool breeze smelled of hay and the canopy shielded us from the bright Colombo sun.
A friend of mine started humming a familiar tune that brought a smile to my face.
Me: “Dude, that’s like my favorite song!”
Friend: “Oh yeah? can you sing it?”
Me: “Not really, can you?”
Friend: “Yeah, all of it!”
With that he begins singing aloud 'Heal the World'. All of it too, as he promised. Quite impressive for a guy who does not speak English.
Yes, my friend who was educated at a substandard public school in Sinhala language did not speak English at all. He knew the meaning of none of the words he had memorized so well (I know because I asked him). Yet there he was, a fan of the legendary Michael Jackson, inspired by the spectacular music video of the Earth Song, pleading to “make the world a better place” in a language that was Greek to him. Perhaps more importantly all of us, a group of teenagers living as far as you can get from any liberal tree-huggers, had learned for the first time in a compassionate way that the earth ought to be cared for.
Good artists please. Great artists inspire. Then there is the rare phenomenon with limitless power of expression that those otherwise indomitable barriers of culture, language and distance are wiped out when confronted by their creation. Sure Elvis was big, bigger were The Beatles. Yet you would be fool to seek for Elvis or Beatles fans in any third-world country outside of a few urban communities.
The King of Pop though is instantly recognized at whatever corner of the world where Coca-Cola is sold. A kid with a poster promoting ‘Thriller’ or ‘Bad’ on his wall I’m sure can be found wherever the radio has reached. Jesus, I bet, is much less popular.
Perhaps it was his intentionally simple yet powerful lyrics, or perhaps it was the ever creative dance moves. Perhaps even the extremely idiosyncratic personality helped. At the end though with very little doubt, the fifty year old who just departed is the most universally loved artist there ever was.
Maybe he was aware of it deep down, when in 2001 he named "Heal the World" (which fared poorly in his home country) as his greatest work, or when he climbed up the roof of an SUV following the 2005 trials and frailly attempted to dance for his fans. At least I really hope he did know, because if a tenth of the gratitude expressed today was there an year ago MJ probably would still have been alive and rehearsing for his UK comeback, which of-course would have been mind-blowing, as usual that is.
1 comments:
I just read this, I miss MJ like hell man. This entry hits right home, and the story you told of your friend is very very moving. I listen to heal the world in my car from time to time, i had no idea he named it his greatest work, but i am not surprised. what great love he had for this world, and how the worlds failed to recognize it, perhaps with greater maturity it one day will. one of my friends said, MJ truly just belongs in the next world, and its probably good for him that he passed on.
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