This Article is From Aug 06, 2020

Irrfan Khan's Son Babil Shares Pics Of Actor's Old Room In Madh Island Home And A Few Childhood Memories

"This is my father's old room near the beach before we shifted to the city," Babil wrote in his post

Irrfan Khan's Son Babil Shares Pics Of Actor's Old Room In Madh Island Home And A Few Childhood Memories

Irrfan Khan in a throwback (courtesy babil.i.k)

Highlights

  • Babil shared a few photos of his dad's "old room"
  • "This is where he did most of his work," Babil wrote in his post
  • Babil also shared a few of his childhood memories of the room
New Delhi:

Irrfan Khan's son Babil, who often remembers his late father with emotional posts on social media, let us in into the actor's "old room" in their former home in Madh Island, a quaint destination on the northern coast of Mumbai, away from the hustle and bustle of the city that never sleeps. "This is my father's old room near the beach before we shifted to the city. This is where he did most of his work," Babil captioned a bunch of photos of the room that belonged to Irrfan Khan. Babil said it was the actor's sanctum and work-place too. Babil, who studies film in London, attached a few priceless memories he has associated with the room and shared a thought that Irrfan Khan believed in as an actor. "Studying acting now, I think of one of the ideas of acting that he used to implement - that the craft has immense emotional similarities to playing around as a child," he wrote. Irrfan Khan, who was diagnosed with cancer in 2018, died in Mumbai on April 29. He was 53.

Babil said as a kid, his father's room would make him feel like fictional Hollywood hitman John Wick sometimes and sometimes, a batsman facing a fierce bowler: "At age 9, when you hold that cricket bat inside the walls of your room, you can feel a stadium roar and see a bowler rushing to knock your head off. When I held that Nerf Gun in my hands, my father's empty room always echoed in the silence of Madh Island, but in that moment I was John Wick surrounded by bad guys with machine guns, gunshots everywhere, and you can hear them, you know? I was a woman once, after watching Chak De! India and I'd get excited dribbling around imaginary defenders and then really shoot that solid ball with my hockey stick and I'd break something. Oh I'd always break something, ma would get so pi**ed. I think you've got to find the child in you and keep it alive, no matter how old you get."

Read Babil's nostalgia dipped post here:

This is my father's old room near the beach before we shifted to the city. This is where he did most of his work. Studying acting now, I think of one of the ideas of acting that he used to implement; that the craft has immense emotional similarities to playing around as a child; at age 9, when you hold that cricket bat inside the walls of your room, you can feel a stadium roar and see a bowler rushing to knock your head off. When I held that nerf gun in my hands, my father's empty room always echoed in the silence of Madh Island, but in that moment I was John Wick surrounded by bad guys with machine guns, gunshots everywhere, and you can hear them, you know? I was a woman once, after watching chak de India and I'd get excited dribbling around imaginary defenders and then really shoot that solid ball with my hockey stick and I'd break something. Oh I'd always break something, ma would get so pissed. I think you've got to find the child in you and keep it alive, no matter how old you get.

A post shared by Babil Khan (@babil.i.k) on

Here are some of Babil's previous posts, in which he shared anecdotes about Irrfan Khan as an actor and a father:

5 years too much, And now you're a stranger 5 years in love, Pickin straws out the haystack Flicking through the picket pages Of the books I never read through. And that's just one half of it The other half is you, Gleaming through the wicked winter moon, I wish I could fit in your shoes. You have gone so far away. And I'm always just a little too late. Plucking the strings of my sitar to soothe, These Monday morning blues And I carried on like the wayward son, In the wayward sun, but I found myself roaming the wastelands. I was high, when I witnessed my mother cry. I might never win. For, never will forget me, the unforgivable sin. Blood on her lips, crippled my heart. Pierced my soul like an adamant dart. Ma, my ma, tell me you love me too. Ma, my ma, I would give it all for you. (Yo bro, u know I love you more than life itself. ) @sikdarsutapa

A post shared by Babil Khan (@babil.i.k) on

You know one of the most important things my father taught me as a student of cinema? Before I went to film school, he warned me that I'll have to prove my self as Bollywood is seldom respected in world cinema and at these moments I must inform about the indian cinema that's beyond our controlled Bollywood. Unfortunately, it did happen. Bollywood was not respected, no awareness of 60's - 90's Indian cinema or credibility of opinion. There was literally one single lecture in the world cinema segment about indian cinema called 'Bollywood and Beyond', that too gone through in a class full of chuckles. it was tough to even get a sensible conversation about the real Indian cinema of Satyajit Ray and K.Asif going. You know why that is? Because we, as the Indian audience, refused to evolve. My father gave his life trying to elevate the art of acting in the adverse conditions of noughties Bollywood and alas, for almost all of his journey, was defeated in the box office by hunks with six pack abs delivering theatrical one-liners and defying the laws of physics and reality, photoshopped item songs, just blatant sexism and same-old conventional representations of patriarchy (and you must understand, to be defeated at the box office means that majority of the investment in Bollywood would be going to the winners, engulfing us in a vicious circle). Because we as an audience wanted that, we enjoyed it, all we sought was entertainment and safety of thought, so afraid to have our delicate illusion of reality shattered, so unaccepting of any shift in perception. All effort to explore the potential of cinema and its implications on humanity and existentialism was at best kept by the sidelines. Now there is a change, a new fragrance in the wind. A new youth, searching for a new meaning. We must stand our ground, not let this thirst for a deeper meaning be repressed again. A strange feeling beset when Kalki was trolled for looking like a boy when she cut her hair short, that is pure abolishment of potential. (Although I resent that Sushant's demise has now become a fluster of political debates, but if a positive change is manifesting, in the way of the Taoist, we embrace it.)

A post shared by Babil Khan (@babil.i.k) on

Irrfan Khan's son Babil recently featured in headlines for sharing several emotional thoughts on Instagram, writing about not wanting to be judged on the basis of religion. "Don't judge me by my religion," read one of his many Instagram stories. Babil is the elder of Irrfan Khan's two sons with wife Sutapa Sikdar.