Who was Bal Thackeray? A mystery shrouded in enigma, simplicity

A year has passed since the tiger stopped roaring. But does Mumbai miss him? Of course, the Marathi Manoos part of Mumbai does miss him every day, with every event and every political development. When Bal Thackeray breathed his last on November 17, 2012, at the age of 86, Mumbai spilled out on the streets to mourn for the man who ruled the very spirit of the city. It is difficult to imagine Mumbai without Balasaheb.

This cartoonist-turned-activist was Mumbai personified and sometimes transmogrified into aggression that an average Mumbaikar wanted to express. After he passed away, Mumbai had not only lost its voice, but also the spirit. Balasaheb had a finger on the pulse of Mumbai. He could never be wrong with the city or the people of Maharashtra.

When alive, Balasaheb was a total mystery wrapped in contradictions. And those contradictions lie in his very personality. He was a chuffy man with a serious look, a tiger who sat on the throne, and a man who commanded thousands but was most humble when dealing with friends.

In other words, he was human. He carried no pretentions. Just as the cartoonist he was when he worked with the Free Press Journal, Balasaheb evoked humour with every situation that touched him. And he had the capacity to laugh at himself. For this, he could contradict himself. Yet, his Shiv Sainiks did not grumble, ever. They followed their leader with as much loyalty as before, which was a puzzle even to his close relatives.

There are many real-life instances and legends involving Bal Thackeray’s reactions and responses to situations and people. His jibes were never short on satire. They were timely, sharp and always hit the bull’s eye. Even in his editorial in Shiv Sena mouthpiece Saamna, Balasaheb was as powerful as he was with his spoken words. A true artist who had perfected his art of curvy lines and never let the guard dictate terms over his persona.

Although he was referred to as the ‘tiger’ of Maharashtra, Balasaheb was more than that. The thespian of Hindi cinema, Dilip Saab, chose to call him a ‘lion’ who had the whole forest at his command, without having to strike his claws at anyone.

But in the true sense, tiger was what he was. By temperament and by design. Just as the tiger never moves out of its habitat and protects its territory from other big cats, Balasaheb worked in the same way.

He rarely moved out of Mumbai. And when he saw Mumbai (then Bombay) being overtaken by outsiders, he launched the Shiv Sena in 1966. The idea was to protect his people’s turf, the Marathi Manoos (Maratha people), from the ‘outsiders.’ For that, he could reprimand anyone including the so-called stars with millions of fans. His political legacy was unquestioned and remained unquestionable, too. Even after his death, Shiv Sainiks have made sure that nobody would ever dare to question his authority. Remember the incident where two girls were arrested (they were later released) for their FB status – questioning the Mumbai shutdown on the day when his last rites were held? That was Mumbai grieving over its true son. It was an emotional moment that couldn’t be countered with logic or rationality. Balasaheb’s equation with his Sainiks was built on human bridges, over decades. It couldn’t come down with his physical demise. They still believe he is there with them for without him, they remain ideologically orphaned. He gave them their thinking and actions, and told them when to employ either of these.

Those who knew him had clearly understood he had no long-term goals to achieve. He did not aspire to be the chief minister or occupy any position that would take him to corridors of power. He had clearly understood where his powers lay. He was powerful in his very being. Not even the Union Government, no matter which party occupied the seats at the Parliament. Balasaheb was in power, always. In fact, HE was THE power.

That he had no encumbrances had never been a problem for this leader who had shown his ‘human’ side to his men. But it was a problem for others who tried to fit him into a definition or tried to psychoanalyse him and understand him in a straitjacketed manner. Like a true cartoonist, his lines never came straight. They always curved to say something. That something was always between the lines.

That is why Michael Jackson visited him at his abode Maatoshree on the former’s India visit. And so did a host of politicians and Hollywood stars. Even though he declared that he wouldn’t allow India-Pakistan matches to be held in Mumbai, he also had the gumption to invite Javed Miandad to his house for dinner. When asked, he said he wanted the Indian team to have similar ‘killer instinct’ as Pakistani cricketers had while playing on the ground.

His Hindutva was not as skewed as that of the Hindutva-vadis. In fact, he chafed at the RSS men calling them ‘knickerwallahs.’ He remained the uncrowned king of Maharashtra for 45 years. And unless psychologists dig deep into his persona, this legend called Balasaheb can never be understood through mere words.