Revision as of 22:26, 7 December 2016

Personal life

Ayaan’s cancer

The Times of India, Apr 2, 2016

How Emraan Hashmi helped son fight cancer

No kidding: Hashmi says the real hero is his son Ayaan, who fought second-stage Wilms’ tumour. (Image courtesy: Getty)

Playing Batman turned out to be the best role of his career as it confirmed his ailing four-year-old's belief in superheroes. Excerpts from his memoir...

Who is this?' I waited for a split second before answering him. I needed to make sure I replied to him in the right voice. He might be young, but he's very sharp.

'I'm Batman,' I replied in a low, gruff tone. 'Is that Ayaan?'

There was a pause. I could imagine his eyes widen with disbelief. 'Y-yes? Is that really... Batman?'

'How are you, Ayaan?'

'I'm okay, Batman. Are you fighting crime in Gotham? Papa told me!'

A lump formed in my throat. I decided to tell him what I had called him for in the first place.

'Would you like to become a superhero like me, Ayaan?'

He breathed heavily with excitement. I could hear it over the phone.

'Yes!'

'Then listen to me very carefully. It will take some time, but once we are done, you are going to become better than Iron Man! You will be Ayaan Man!'

I knew Ayaan loved Batman. But I had already donned that cape. If I had offered him the chance to be Batman, he wouldn't have quite liked the idea of us playing the same superhero. The incongruity would get to him. That's how I decided we'll pronounce his name in a way that resembled another one of his absolute favourites — Iron Man.

'Okay,' he replied. 'What will I have to do?'

'Listen to me very carefully, Ayaan...'

I remembered the night before, when we had tricked Ayaan into believing that we had checked into a hotel. I had met the doctors and nurses in an adjoining room so that he didn't overhear my conversation with them. Once I went back to his room, he threw a fit when he was given the insipid hospital food. He demanded pizza and all the other junk that got him happy. It took us some time to get him to settle down, after which he asked me a simple question. 'Is it my birthday or is it Christmas, papa?' he inquired, earnestly. 'Is that why we are in a hotel? To celebrate?' 'Yes Ayaan,' I replied. 'It's gonna be your birthday soon and we will celebrate many many more birthdays together!' My four-year-old baby boy was diagnosed with second-stage Wilms' tumour, a type of cancer that affects the kidneys and typically occurs in children. Wilms' tumour is very uncommon. Children of African origin are more prone to suffer from it than children of other races. It is named after a German doctor, Max Wilms, who wrote one of the first medical articles about the disease in 1899 — it would seem unfortunate for a man to have a damned disease named after him. Because at that moment, I disliked the word itself.

Ayaan's cancer was my life's biggest hurdle. Suddenly, I had to prove to myself that I had in me the stuff that my role models were made off. I had to be Superman, in my own little way. I had to not just fight away the enemy that threatened my son's life, but also prove my mettle professionally... But the real hero was my son... Kids like him are made of sterner stuff than we adults are. They battle the disease one day at a time for months, sometimes years, enduring pain and sacrificing their moments of childhood that will never come back... My son wanted to be Batman. In many ways, he has become him. He has coped with pain and has fought cancer. Just like all stories need a conclusion, the story of Batman needs to end too. I don't have the heart to tell him that Batman doesn't exist. I don't have the strength to tell him that after all those sessions of chemo, he won't have any superpowers. But probably, he will learn by himself, just like I did, that living your life responsibly is a superpower by itself.

So after writing this book, I am going to make one final call to him as Batman. That story needs some closure. This time, however, I won't be convincing him to have the meal that he's fussing about or I won't be calming him down before his chemo session. I am going to tell him, 'Son, you have endured it all. You are six years old now, and soon you will finish school and go to college. I will grow old and wither away, and you may have to face the big bad world out there by yourself. But you've got a great head-start. You have won the unlikeliest of battles already, so now, whatever it is that comes your way, you have to put on that cape of responsibility, hold your head up high bravely and give all of life's problems that knockout punch.'

Onscreen persona

Serial Kisser

The Times of India, Apr 2, 2016

I remember shooting my first bold song, 'Bheegey Honth Tere', in Bangkok. It was set in several locations, but one of them was particularly amusing, Emraan reported.

Mallika and I were shooting on the top of a parapet of a seven-storey building. After having exhausted every variation and situation that led to the numerous kisses in the song, Anurag wanted us to make out on the ledge of that building! I kept teasing him about how he was making us play out his fantasies on celluloid. So at sundown, when the shooting lights came on, the entire city block came to a halt on the street as they watched us shoot! I'm sure they would have been amused watching two entangled bodies under a sheet snogging away for the camera!

Some people have the general misconception that I enjoy shooting erotic scenes. It's really not that easy. I'm always conscious before I pucker up. It's one thing to do it in the confines of your room with your own partner, but quite another to be playing it out on a set in front of a whole crew scrutinizing your every move and a director who gives you instructions on how to go about it. If anyone thinks it's their dream job, they're sadly mistaken. The sexy kiss on screen seems like the unsexiest thing off screen. Most of the time there is awkward teeth clanking with the director yelling, 'Show your face, Emi. Your face is getting covered by your hair.' And the most irritating one, 'Guys, your make-up is all over the sheets. We will have to change them. Let's break for lunch.' I mean, sure, I get to kiss these beautiful women and all of that... but it does get boring. Either ways, it's a burden I bear and will continue to do so... willingly. And like it or not, after more than a hundred and fifty kisses (I've lost count), it's not easy to dethrone me as the Kissing King or Chumban Devta as a crowd that had gathered for one of my film shoots in Delhi started shouting. Spider Man says it best: It is my gift and it is my curse.