Bridges, writes Ayushmann Khurrana

We build too many walls and not enough bridges - Isaac Newton

Going from Haridwar to Rishikesh, I saw this vintage, not-in-use bridge. I asked my driver to take a U-turn. I had this bizarre urge to stop and feel and be one with that place. The air was magical, the sun was drowning in the forests behind. I generally don’t click pics for social media if I’m in a moment of solitary mirth. But I decided to go ‘live’ on Instagram and chat for a couple of minutes, as my film’s release is round the corner and I get mandates from the marketing team to be proactive.

The use of tech amidst pure flora was ironical. The bridge had never-ending creepers. It looked pre-British era. No car crossed it as it wasn’t wide or strong enough. There were only sporadic passers-by, who didn’t give a f**k about me. Perks of strictly being a multiplex hero. Sigh.

Then my assistant Aadil and I noticed a local boy rolling a joint for himself. We were enchanted by the beauty of that bridge. I played Niladri Kumar’s sitar music on my cellphone. Then I stopped playing after 30 seconds because the sound of nature on that bridge was better than any music. The concrete bridge overpowered the bridge of the song.

Close by, was the Lakshman Jhula of Rishikesh, Uttarakhand, where I’d ridden a rickety scooter with my pleasantly heavy actress seated behind me in my last film Dum Lagaa Ke Haisha. The wind speed was so phenomenal that we were going off-balance. Then we also ran across Ram Jhula in Rishikesh with 70 colourful background dancers for the end credit song of DLKH.

My love for bridges is irrespective of time or place. I absolutely adore our super-solid Sea Link in Mumbai, which looks like a work of art, especially during early mornings, also evenings with the setting sun looking like an orange basketball drowning in the sea, the steel structure looks marvellous from the sunroof of my car during late-night drives and also, the rains. Haha! That literally covered every moment.

Sometimes, I want to be a bird and sit right at the highest point of the Sea Link and observe the cars going by, breaking the speed limit of 60 kmph and overtaking quite often, which is clearly not allowed. The view from the top will be therapeutic.

Let’s go to the Southern Hemisphere. Went for a concert in Sydney last year and my hotel room was right next to the Harbour Bridge. It’s called ‘The Coat-Hanger’ because of its shape. And I’ve spent hours just looking at this bridge. Saw a huge ship miraculously crossing it at 5 am. Check my Periscope to see that video. Wish I could climb it one day. Sigh. Main roadie hoon! Shut up.

Then there’s the most photographed bridge of the world, the Golden Gate Bridge of San Francisco. I have only seen people airborne jumping like minions on the hilltop, with this bridge in the background. The bridge is of course tired of the excited tourists, but I’m sure it loves and welcomes the huge cargo ships which cross everyday coming from the vast Pacific Ocean. This is one of the wonders of the modern world. I really believe bridges have souls. But this one has a huge heart, too. It accommodates every vessel.

But there’s one such bridge in Iran which is the most underrated and not talked about. The Khaju bridge of Isfahan. On its lower level, it holds its walkers only a few feet over water. A legend persists that the concrete of this bridge was made of limestone mixed with egg white, like a cake. There are no railings here. Khaju is open everywhere and pointed.

Nietzsche says, “What is great in man is that he is a bridge, and not a goal.” We are just a going-across. Like I used to go across the Nada Sahib bridge over Ghaggar river in old Panchkula, Haryana. Nada Sahib is a Sikh temple which serves the world’s best kada prasaad (aate ka halwa). I used to go across that bridge once a month on a Sunday to have langar. That bridge used to move vigorously whenever a truck used to pass. I never tried standing under that bridge, because most of the times river Ghaggar was overflowing. But I’m sure it must have felt like a thousand orgies happening on that bridge with the woman-on-top position. Why woman-on-top? I don’t know. It’s just the awkward movement of the bridge was only possible with this position in particular.

Nietzsche once imagined an 80,000-year-old man whose character is very fluid and metamorphosed easily, who can have various individuals in him. This malleable identity is there in old bridges and dead immortal poets. Between a beginning-less beginning and an endless end, each of us is a bridge rhythm in time.

Rumi, too, was considered to be a bridge, a place for cultures and religions especially to merge and enjoy each other. Just like Bollywood and cricket are the bridges between the two warring neighbours. I say keep the faith. It is the only bridge between where we are and where we want to go.