“The only thing certain was the uncertainty” … Irrfan Khan loses the battle with cancer

He almost became a cricketer; a batsman. But cricketing world’s loss was acting world’s gain. Irrfan Khan was battling cancer and passed away while he was being treated for a colon infection

Gaon Connection
| Updated: April 29th, 2020

It was the 1970s. The place was Rajasthan. The nawabs no longer existed. But, Yasin Ali Khan, who hailed from a nawabi family, still had some very nawabi habits. He loved to go hunting. He ran a very successful tyre business, and had moved from Tonk to Jaipur; there were many forests near Jaipur in those days. He would take his son along. The son, who was around 10-12, was not interested in hunting, but he loved spending the nights in the forests. His father would urge him to shoot when an animal neared them, but the son would not shoot. Instead, he loved to admire the beauty of that animal. The son was more interested in playing cricket and flying kites. But destiny had something else planned. The son grew up to become a maverick actor — Irrfan Khan.

As a child, Irrfan would fly kites for hours. When he was not doing that, he would play cricket. Though he was an all-rounder, he loved to bat.

He had made up his mind to become a cricketer. He almost became one. But again, destiny had something else planned. He was selected to play the CK Naidu trophy. He had to pay Rs 7,500. It was a big amount back then. The family didn’t have the money. Also, his parents were not too happy with this career choice. A young Irrfan had to let go off that dream.

Irrfan died on Wednesday in Mumbai’s Kokilaben Dhirubhai Ambani Hospital, where he was being treated for a colon infection. Credit: Irrfan’s Instagram

His mother was a simple woman. She believed that a person should earn only as much as he needs. She asked Irrfan to finish his graduation. It was here that the acting bug bit him after he acted in some plays. This world was alien to him, but he loved this world. Just like cricket, the applauses were instant. One could play any character while on the stage. Irrfan would constantly learn just by observing his fellow actors. In 1984, when he was pursuing his post-graduation, he got a scholarship to study at the National School of Drama. After passing out from there, he worked in many television serials and then acted in many, many movies, in India and abroad. His filmography is known to all. His craft is admired by all. The characters that he played are immortal. His fans were greedy. They wanted more of him.

This is why on Wednesday when news started pouring in about Irrfan’s sad demise, there was a collective heartbreak.

The fifty-four-year-old actor died on Wednesday in Mumbai’s Kokilaben Dhirubhai Ambani Hospital, where he was being treated for a colon infection. A statement released by his family said that Mr Khan spent his final hours “surrounded by his love, his family for whom he most cared about.”

Irrfan Khan was diagnosed with a neuroendocrine tumour in March 2018, soon after which he flew to London for treatment. He returned to India in February 2019 to shoot for his last film and flew back to London after a brief stay. The actor returned to India in September last year after surgery and treatment in London.

Irrfan Khan’s mother Saeeda Begum died at the age of 95 on April 25 in Jaipur. Irrfan, who couldn’t travel from Mumbai due to the coronavirus lockdown, paid his last respects to his late mother through a video conferencing session.

In June 2018, while battling cancer, Irrfan penned a beautiful letter. Read the original letter here.

It’s been quite some time now since I have been diagnosed with a high-grade neuroendocrine cancer. This new name in my vocabulary, I got to know, was rare, and due to fewer study cases, and less information comparatively, the unpredictability of the treatment was more. I was part of a trial-and-error game.

I had been in a different game, I was travelling on a speedy train ride, had dreams, plans, aspirations, goals, was fully engaged in them. And suddenly someone taps on my shoulder and I turn to see. It’s the TC: “Your destination is about to come. Please get down.” I am confused: “No, no. My destination hasn’t come.” “No, this is it. This is how it is sometimes.”

The suddenness made me realise how you are just a cork floating in the ocean with UNPREDICTABLE currents! And you are desperately trying to control it.

In this chaos, shocked, afraid and in panic, while on one of the terrifying hospital visits, I blabber to my son, “The only thing I expect from ME is not to face this crisis in this present state. I desperately need my feet. Fear and panic should not overrule me and make me miserable.”

That was my INTENTION. AND THEN PAIN HIT. As if all this while, you were just getting to know pain, and now you know his nature and his intensity. Nothing was working; NO consolation, no motivation. The entire cosmos becomes one at that moment – just PAIN, and pain felt more enormous than GOD.

As I was entering the hospital, drained, exhausted, listless, I hardly realised my hospital was on the opposite side of Lord’s, the stadium. The Mecca of my childhood dream. Amidst the pain, I saw a poster of a smiling Vivian Richards. Nothing happened, as if that world didn’t ever belong to me.

This hospital also had a coma ward right above me. Once, while standing on the balcony of my hospital room, the peculiarity jolted me. Between the game of life and the game of death, there is just a road. On one side, a hospital, on the other, a stadium. As if one isn’t part of anything which might claim certainty – neither the hospital, nor the stadium. That hit me hard.

I was left with this immense effect of the enormous power and intelligence of the cosmos. The peculiarity of MY hospital’s location – it HIT me. The only thing certain was the uncertainty. All I could do was to realise my strength and play my game better.

This realisation made me submit, surrender and trust, irrespective of the outcome, irrespective of where this takes me, eight months from now, or four months from now, or two years. The concerns took a back seat and started to fade and kind of went out of my mind space.

For the first time, I felt what ‘freedom’ truly means. It felt like an accomplishment. As if I was tasting life for the first time, the magical side of it. My confidence in the intelligence of the cosmos became absolute. I feel as if it has entered every cell of mine.

Time will tell if it stays, but that is how I feel as of now.

Throughout my journey, people have been wishing me well, praying for me, from all over the world. People I know, people I don’t even know. They were praying from different places, different time zones, and I feel all their prayers became ONE. One big force, like a force of current, which got inside me through the end of my spine and has germinated through the crown of my head.

It’s germinating – sometimes a bud, a leaf, a twig, a shoot. I keep relishing and looking at it. Each flower, each twig, each leaf which has come from the cumulative prayers, each fills me with wonder, happiness and curiosity.

A realisation that the cork doesn’t need to control the current. That you are being gently rocked in the cradle of nature.