Tag: raj kapoor

A Love Story on Bullock Cart

By Mahendra Ved

Although critically acclaimed, Teesri Kasam was a commercial disaster when pushed out of cinema theatres to make way for potboilers. It recovered after winning two National Film Awards and was publicised thus.

That was an era when good, wholesome cinema received, if not always funds, official recognition. Today, much of the recognition is reserved for ‘Files’ that align with a political agenda and fuel hatred among communities.

Made in 1966 on a story written in 1954 by the renowned Hindi writer from Bihar, Phanishwarnath Renu, the film, although shot largely in Maharashtra and Madhya Pradesh, depicted the simplicity of a poor, rural Bihar. That poverty persists. Bihar remains underdeveloped, in the news for many wrong reasons.

Deeply embedded in the prevailing values of rural India, healthy or otherwise, Teesri Kasam was based on Renu’s original short story, Marey Gaye Gulfam. Nabendu Ghosh, who wrote many films for Bimal Roy, introduced it to Shailendra, the renowned lyricist, himself a son of the Bihar soil.

In a rare literary and cinematic confluence, Ghosh wrote the script as well as the screenplay. Cinematographer on Satyajit Ray’s early films, Subrata Mitra, lensed it. Basu Bhattacharya was its debutante director. He went on to make some significant films.

Nautanki is a major prop in the film. Developed in the ‘Bhagat’ and ‘Swang’ musical theatre traditions of north India, it was once the biggest form of entertainment in its villages and towns. Today, Nautanki, like Tawaif, is a bad word. Waheeda Rahman’s Nautanki performance in the film looks way too decent when compared to the present-day vulgar, public performances, patronised in the Hindi belt.

This then-and-now comparison would be incomplete without asking how many filmmakers, in their race to join the global cinema, explore themes rooted in India.

Teesri Kasam took five years to make and contributed to Shailendra’s death before it was released. Short of funds, he wanted to make a simple, low-budget film. He selected comedian Mehmood and Mumtaz to play cart-rider Hiraman and Hirabai, performing for a Nautanki company. But Bollywood biggie Raj Kapoor, whose discovery ‘Kaviraj’ Shailendra was, insisted on playing the lead.

Although he charged only one rupee, the canvas widened with Kapoor’s entry. He advised Shailendra to add some commercial elements to an otherwise melancholic story. Shailendra disagreed and did the movie the way he wanted.

Shankar-Jaikishan composed ten songs, each one a masterpiece that made the film memorable. Shailendra delivered his best, including the award-winning Sajan Re Jhooth Mat Bolo. Yet, the most heart-rending song, crooned by Mukesh, was Hasrat Jaipuri’s Dunia Banane Waley. Each line of these songs carries deep philosophical meaning, each word resonating with our individual journey of life wherever we be.

With his light eyes, Kapoor looked too well-fed for a poor cart driver. However, shorn of the Chaplin-sque image that had won him global fame in Awaara and Shree 420, his performance, comparable with his earlier Jagte Raho, is among his best.

Waheeda, riding on her previous year’s performance in Guide, was outstanding. On Shailedra’s tearful pleading, it is said, she worked for a nominal token amount. She is perhaps the only survivor of that magnificent experiment in cinema.

Six decades is a long time to judge a film for its critical content and the relevance of its message in the present times to be called a classic. It is tempting to say that Teesri Kasam fills all the slots. Had it been made on a larger budget and in colour (arguable, since its black & white photography was excellent), it would have been a greater film than it is.

Bhattacharya won the National Award for direction and was nominated for the Grand Prix at the Moscow International Film Festival. But not everyone was satisfied with his treatment of a simple, yet deeply meaningful theme.

Underlining the differing approach between an art-laced film and a Bollywood commercial, Kapoor disapproved. In an interview in 1977, he said, “Basu (Basu Bhattacharya) is a pseudo, and I didn’t like the film. He was risking somebody else’s money. What did he have to lose?”

Looking back, it would be unfair to blame Kapoor and his RK team’s support. Views have also differed about the film’s ending, and blamed it for the box office failure. Some felt that rather than separating Hiraman from Hirabai, the two should have walked away from the world. Comparison has been made with another classic, Pyaasa, where a roadside hooker, incidentally, also played by Waheeda Rehman, joins a poet that society has rejected.

Such a debate marks out Teesri Kasam. But note what Hirabai has to say of her own identity. Hiraman thinks she is a goddess, and the landlord who wants to bed her thinks she is a prostitute. But both are wrong, she insists.

She definitely loves Hiraman, the first man who has treated her with respect. But she realises that if she hides her tainted social status from him, they would live in falsehood. The shock for him on knowing the truth would be unbearable and would ruin their relationship.

‘Libbers’ today may fault Hirabai for lack of courage to break her social shackles, but not for allowing her head to reject the heart’s desire. She comes across as a worldly-wise winner, even as Hiraman, rejected and dejected, takes his frustration out on the poor bullocks. He takes his third vow: never to seat another “company ki bai” on his cart.

In a noteworthy flaw, the first two vows, rushed through at the film’s onset, are of no real consequence to the story. They only lay the ground for the third.

Yet, it remains a simple story simply told of the fragile love between two social misfits. It does not have a happy ending, but it is not a tragedy either. A character-driven film, it offers several insights into human relationships, the likes of which are seldom seen on the Indian screen these days.

Much like its protagonists, Teesri Kasam was also a victim of its fate. Watching it today, it is hard to decipher why a film with such emotional depth, popular music and stellar actors did not get accepted in that “Golden Age” of Hindi cinema.

Despite the abundance of talent, money and technology, a “fourth vow” to pursue meaningful cinema seems remote in this era.

RajGuru of Bollywood Musicals

By Mahendra Ved

‘Har Dil Jo Pyar Karega woh gaana gayega,’ Raj Kapoor sang, linking love with music, in Sangam (1964). That year, his contemporary, Guru Dutt, died, like many characters he portrayed, a tortured soul, at just 39. Yet, the last film he produced, Baharein Phir Bhi Ayengi, released three years after his death, heralded many a hopeful spring.

Both, Raj and Guru, were born within a span of a few months. Observing their birth centenaries, it needs noting that nothing, and nobody, has recreated the musical aura that two of Hindi cinema’s most eminent filmmakers created. Their deep understanding of music and its place in cinema has ensured that their films remain watchable and their songs hummable. So, this is more about their music.

Their musical prowess was part of the cinematic cavalcade of giants who contributed to what is fondly called the “golden age”. That newly independent India under Jawaharlal Nehru, despite its many failures, was aspiring and inclusive. Cinema, not just in Hindi/Urdu, reached out to the world with its contemporary stories, even as it told the mythological and social ones.

Today, even if you find the proceedings slow, you wait for the next song, and the next. Recall the little song books costing a single anna (then currency), too shabby for a bookstall and sold only at a paan-cigarette shop? They carried up to a dozen ditties in a single movie.

That music overawed the theme. Its notes carried even a poorly written or enacted film. Every word and note carried meaning. Age-old Hindustani Classical or the Carnatic, went with the Western Rock ’n Roll and a vast array of folk songs from across the country, even mixed with the flavour from other lands.

Often derided as ‘plagiarised’ by the discerning, that musical fusion was unique to India, yet copied by others. They were edited out to reduce the length of the entries sent to international film festivals. But their demand at home never ebbed.

The fare had dollops of ‘dil’ and ‘pyar’, easily the most used words. Although no longer lip-synced by actors, they remain so even as contemporary India grapples with new challenges and sensibilities.

Raj and Guru, both romantics in real and reel lives, embellished their respective products differently. When not chasing or pining for his lady love, Raj sang of hope and nation-building, even mocking the Almighty. Guru’s urban angst against an exploitative and hypocritical society was stark, yet poetic. He criticised the many things that Raj’s songs tended to sugar-coat with socialist ideals, always hoping for a bright future. Vibrantly composed, Raj’s songs playfully helped depart from the terse, sarcasm-laden, in-your-face dialogues written by Khwaja Ahmed Abbas.

ALSO READ: Mohd Rafi – The Baiju Bawra of Bollywood

Unlike Abbas and their other teammates, neither Raj nor Guru was an activist of the Indian People’s Theatre Association (IPTA) or the Progressive Writers’ Association (PWA). These two leftist cultural bodies heavily influenced the art, literature and cinema of that “golden age”. Born of political street protests, they influenced storytelling through music.

The poor-versus-the-privileged theme was common. Raj’s “pop-socialism” helped lend a modern touch (“Mutthi mein hai taqdeer hamari, humne kismat ko bas mein kiya hai” (Boot Polish-1954). It helped erase the stereotype about India being the country of sadhus and snake-charmers.

Raj developed a global audience that hummed and danced to “Awaara hoon”. Nostalgia lingers in some societies even today. Compared to that instant bubbly, Guru’s music, like his films, depressed the viewers even while it entertained. It took time, like matured wine, for some of his films to be considered classics. If Raj was popular and very public, Guru’s songs sent the sensitive hearts brooding, privately, perhaps, more intensely.

Of the rich-poor theme, Raj’s song-and-dance with slum-dwellers participating lampooned the rich (Shree 420). Visualise him playing the dafli, spinning it over his head like Lord Krishna’s Sudarshan Chakra, and before the crescendo, bringing it down to remind us of life’s challenges.

By contrast, Guru gate-crashed the party of the rich or a college mushaira (Pyaasa-1957), asking, in Sahir Ludhianvi’s terse words, “Yeh duniya agar mil bhi jaye toh kya hai?”, and before being thrown out,  “Tumhari hai tum hi sambhalo yeh duniya”. Never again has protest fused with poetry so beautifully.

Guru’s rich music was a product of the poor, for the poor. There was a song for champiwala (Johnny Walker), and a street hooker (Waheeda Rahman). Kaifi Azmi lived in a commune to pursue politics and poetry. Sahir commanded more prestige than money.

Raj called Shailendra, a welder-turned-polyglot poet, “Kavi Raaj”, who said the most profound things in the simplest words possible. His struggling singer addressed as Mukesh Chand, was “meri rooh” — his soul.

Guru’s poetic protests, penned by Sahir, were set to music by S D Burman, a prince who had quit his royal riches. Together, they heralded without any musical support (Yeh mehlon yeh takhton – Pyaasa), by Mohammed Rafi.

The best example, perhaps, was Kaagaz ke Phool (1959), Guru’s autobiographical opus. The chemistry between him, his singer-wife Geeta Dutt, S D Burman and Kaifi created immortal songs. Kaifi would lament that he rewrote some songs because Guru could not communicate what he wanted. That churning produced some of the best poetry sung in Indian cinema. For the first time, perhaps, it accorded the behind-the-scenes lyricist his rightful place in a glamour-sodden industry.

The overall impact of Kaagaz Ke Phool was overwhelming but depressing. Songs created an aching melancholia. The audience came to be entertained, left the cinema hall depressed, the women in tears. Technologically well ahead of its time, the film flopped, but became a classic of world cinema only later.

Guru’s classics blurred the lines between personal life and cinema. Though by no means comparable, Raj made the same mistake as Guru a decade later, by making Mera Naam Joker (1970). It bombed despite lovely performances and great music. He recovered only with Bobby (1973), but with music by Laxmikant Pyarelal. His two-decades-plus collaboration with Shankar Jaikishan had ended.

While Raj remained contemporary, Guru explored the decadent Bengal in author-backed Sahib, Bibi Aur Ghulam (1962), helped by Hemant Kumar’s immortal music. Songs of Ravi in Chaudhvin Ka Chand remain best savoured, say, in solitude and an unlit room.

Before he made ‘serious’ films, Guru was a pioneer of the Bombay Noir. Dark and gritty romantic thrillers; they explored crime and corruption in Bombay. Their hallmark was hummable songs, many composed by O P Nayyar. Since it is not possible to continue here about the musical contribution of Raj Kapoor and Guru Dutt, one must end with either Guru’s lament “Waqt ne kiya kya haseen sitam”, or Raj-like philosophy of life: “Jeena isi ka naam hai.”

The Clown Prince

By Mahendra Ved

Come December, and last century’s Bollywood nostalgia brims over to this one, connecting with three of its greatest stars. Dilip Kumar (December 11, 1922) and Raj Kapoor, (December 14, 1924) were born near each other’s homes in Peshawar. Dev Anand, born in Shakargarh, passed away on December 3, 2011.

The birth centenaries of Dilip and Dev recently passed, and it is now time to celebrate Kapoor’s. Plus Navketan, Dev’s film production banner, completes 75 years.

The troika’s admirers connect with simpler, if not better, times. Although competing contemporaries, they were also great friends. Generations of cinemagoers they mesmerised love them all but remain divided on who was better, and in which particular film. I recall Raj Kapoor’s pleading with ‘Miss DeSa’ (Lalita Pawar) in Anari (1959) that he is not a thief. Given their distinct acting styles the debate then was: how Dilip or Dev would have delivered the same dialogue.

All three loved music and Dilip sang at private parties. For today’s globalised youth, the two-hour-plus, slow-moving, black & white fare may be boring, but not the Indian Classical-based songs. They were the soul of Bollywood cinema, sometimes surpassing the film and ensuring its success. Music and the ‘Indian-ness’ were the USPs, now lost in the quest to tap the global market.

Compare this with the present-day Indian cinema which is shorter and technologically slick, but an assembly-line product enjoying, unlike in the past, multinational, corporate and bank-driven financing. The majority of them still flop as they used to. The world’s largest producer makes more ‘good’ films, but ‘great’ films?

Hark back to listen to the story “Anand Hi Anand”, about three brothers – Chetan, Dev and Vijay – narrated by their niece, actor-director Sohaila Kapur. She tells you how Chetan’s philosophical ‘filmsight’, Dev’s acting and glamour and Vijay’s prowess as writer-director drove them, together and separately when they disagreed, and pursue new themes and introduce new stars (Kalpana Kartik, Priya Rajvansh, Zeenat Aman, Tina Munim), through hits and flops and financial woes. Few remember today that Chetan’s Neecha Nagar (1946) was the top winner at the first Cannes Film Festival to put Indian cinema on the world’s cinematic map before independence.

Undoubtedly, this month belongs to the centennial of Raj Kapoor, India’s “Greatest Showman”. His family, including current reigning ‘stars’ invited the country’s prime minister to join the celebrations. The PM rightly called Raj the pioneer of “soft diplomacy”, long before that idea took shape, and made the Indian cinema known to the world as both, uniquely Indian and international.

His reference to the change in “Lal Topi Roosi” is politically significant. Surely, it is Hindustani. The Nehru-era colour that immensely influenced Raj’s cinema, has changed. Sadly, the ‘dawn’ that Raj dreamt of in Phir Subah Hogi too, has eluded not only India but much of the world.

As celebrations get underway, word has come from Russia, where Raj was called “Tavarish Brodiya”, of a film festival. Perhaps, China, Central Asia and Central Europe where Awaara retains arthouse interest will follow.

ALSO READ: Awaara – The Tramp And His Times

Time has taken its toll. Raj is quoted as saying in a book by his daughter Ritu: “When I die, bring my body to my studio. I may wake up amid their lights shouting, ‘Action’.” That was not to be. As Bollywood neglected it by shooting indoors and going digital, and engulfed by a fire, R K Studio closed down. Replacing it, the stylish residential complex symbolically retains the studio’s gate and a replica of the iconic emblem – Raj Kapoor holding Nargis with one hand and violin in the other hand – based on a scene from Barsaat (1949). It was RK’s first hit and the first shot in that studio.

So much has already been written about Raj, his films and his filmmaking that repetition becomes inevitable. My only meeting was as a rookie at a film journal. He came unannounced and waited patiently, God knows for how long. I was immersed in work. When I rose, startled and apologetic, he put me at ease with a pat on my shoulder, left a packet for my editor and left.

Before he was conferred the Dadasaheb Phalke award, he was required to clear his tax dues with the government. He sold his films’ telecasting rights to Doordarshan. Too sick to attend, the event had to be postponed four times. He looked drained out that evening. President R. Venkatraman broke protocol, came down from the stage, walked up to him and completed the ceremony. Raj vomited and had to be rushed to the hospital. The man who had made people laugh with Chaplin-like comedy was a sad sight, eyes closed, the garland on him and his jacket soiled.

Youngest of the Troika, he left rather early at 64. Being a producer-director at age 24 with a banner and studio, was audacious. The Anand brothers followed with Navketan a year later.

Like Dev and Dilip, Raj lived in an era when cronyism was not an issue that it is today. Launching relations was a virtue, not a vice. He helped his vast family of Kapoors, Naths and more – probably two scores of them. The fourth generation active today invites the charge of nepotism. But talent is unmistakable. It goes beyond fair skin, great looks and in some cases, blue eyes. The record shows that those lacking this bit have faded out.

In better times, directors under the RK banner included Radhu Karmarkar (Jis Desh Mein Ganga Behti Hai-1960), Prakash Arora (Boot Polish-1954) and Amit Maitra and Sombhu Mitra (Jagte Raho – 1956).

Raj was a Team Man. Nargis, his muse, worked for seven years, till she realised that their relationship would get nowhere. The composer duo Shankar-Jaikishan collaborated for 20 years, till Mera Naam Joker’s failure forced Raj to keep up with the changing time and revamp the team, including the lyricist duo Shailendra-Hasrat Jaipuri.

He helped his PR men, Bunny Ruben and Jugal Kishore Dubey by playing the lead in Ashique (1962). For Shailendra, his poetic ‘soul’, he did Teesri Kasam (1966) which suffered delay and financial crunch. An ageing, rotund, blue-eyed Raj was unlike the poor Bihari the theme required. But he was keen on that role. His performance, with Waheeda Rehman as the perfect foil, however, could not save the film. A commercial disaster, it recovered after winning the National Award to become a cult film.

His films of the 1950s had the distinct leftist touch of KA Abbas when the rich were the villains. In the 1960s and thereafter, he changed course as themes also were varied. But he returned to Abbas for Mera Naam Joker. When this semi-autobiographical multi-starrer flopped, he was devastated. Yet, he gathered himself and at 50, conceived Bobby (1973), about teenage love.

He was accused, with justification, of injecting sexism. He defended it. “We are shocked to see nudity, we need to get mature. I have always respected women but don’t understand why I am accused of exploiting them. Fellini’s nude woman is considered Art but when I show a woman’s beauty on screen, then it is called exploitation,” Ritu quoted her father as saying in the book Raj Kapoor Speaks.

Opinions shall always differ on this, even as Indian cinema, uncensored on OTT, becomes increasingly explicit. And to give Raj his due, the present-day lot need to learn that he was much more than being a Chaplin copycat. And appreciate the “jeena yahan, marna yahan” passion. They are timeless and universal.

Kapoors Pose For A Family Picture, Fans Call It ‘Iconic’

By LokMarg

Friday evening turned out to be special for cinephiles who are a fan of Raj Kapoor’s films.

A film festival celebrating some of the biggest films of legendary filmmaker Raj Kapoor kickstarted in Mumbai today, marking his 100th birth anniversary. To celebrate the occasion, the family members of the greatest showman of Indian cinema gathered together to revive the cinematic work of Raj Kapoor.

At the opening night of RK@100 celebrations, the Kapoor family posed for an iconic picture together. From Raj Kapoor’s son Randhir Kapoor, daughter Rima Jain, daughters-in-law Babita and Neetu Kapoor, to grandson Ranbir Kapoor and granddaughters Kareena Kapoor, Karisma Kapoor, and Riddhima Kapoor Sahni, the ‘Kapoor Khandaan’ arrived in style to celebrate the legendary filmmaker’s birth centenary. Their presence highlighted the family’s collective pride in preserving and celebrating Raj Kapoor’s extraordinary legacy.

Have a look at the fam-jam picture of the Kapoors.

The group snaps of Kapoor Khandaan left fans extremely happy.

Reacting to the picture, a fan wrote “iconic” on Instagram.

“Priceless,” another user wrote.

Not only Kapoor family graced the event but other members of the film industry came to pay tribute to Raj Kapoor. Prem Chopra, Jeetendra, Vicky Kaushal, Riteish Deshmukh, Huma Qureshi, Sanjay Leela Bhansali and Sharman Joshi among others were also in attendance.

As part of the grand celebration, R.K. Films, the Film Heritage Foundation, and NFDC-National Film Archive of India are presenting Raj Kapoor 100 – Celebrating the Centenary of the Greatest Showman. This festival features curated screenings of ten iconic Raj Kapoor films across 40 cities and 135 cinemas.

The festival aims to put spotlight on Raj Kapoor’s most celebrated works, spanning nearly four decades: Aag (1948), Barsaat (1949), Awaara (1951), Shree 420 (1955), Jagte Raho (1956), Jis Desh Mein Ganga Behti Hai (1960), Sangam (1964), Mera Naam Joker (1970), Bobby (1973), Ram Teri Ganga Maili (1985).

A few days ago, the members of the Kapoor clan met Prime Minister Narendra Modi in Delhi and invited him to mark his gracious presence at the festival.

The meeting in Delhi saw Kareena, Saif, Ranbir Kapoor, Alia Bhatt, Neetu Kapoor, Karisma Kapoor, and other family members come together to discuss the upcoming celebrations.

Kareena shared delightful pictures from the meeting on social media, where the Kapoor family appeared overjoyed to meet the Prime Minister.

The photographs also showed Saif and Ranbir engaging in a conversation with PM Modi.However, the highlight of the post was Kareena seeking an autograph for her sons, Taimur and Jeh from the PM. The Prime Minister graciously wrote “Tim and Jeh” on a piece of paper, a gesture that delighted the fans on social media.

In a heartfelt post, Kareena expressed her gratitude for the special meeting. “We are deeply humbled and honoured to have been invited by the Honourable Prime Minister, Shri Narendra Modi, to commemorate the extraordinary life and legacy of our grandfather, the legendary Raj Kapoor. Thank you Shri Modi ji for such a special afternoon. Your warmth, attention, and support in celebrating this milestone meant the world to us,” she wrote.

The festival, which kickstarted on December 13, will take place till December 15. (ANI)

‘Do You Get Time To Listen To Music?’ Alia Asks PM; His Response Wins Hearts

By LokMarg

The Kapoor family met Prime Minister Narendra Modi on Wednesday in Delhi, for a special meeting related to the upcoming Raj Kapoor 100 Film Festival.

Members of the Kapoor family, including Ranbir Kapoor, Alia Bhatt, Kareena Kapoor Khan, Saif Ali Khan, Karisma Kapoor, Neetu Kapoor, and Riddhima Kapoor Sahni, were present during the interaction. A video shared by the Prime Minister’s Office (PMO) also showed the Kapoor family sharing their experiences after meeting the PM.

During the meeting, a light-hearted conversation between actor Alia Bhatt and PM Modi turned into a delightful moment when the ‘Jigra’ actress asked if the Prime Minister listens to music.

“Kya aap gaane sun paate hain?” (Do you get time to listen to music?), Alia inquired.

PM Modi responded with a simple yet adorable answer, “Main sun pata hoon kyunki mujhe achha lagta hai. Kabhi mauka mil jata hai toh main zaroor sun leta hoon.” (I do listen because I enjoy it. Whenever I get the chance, I listen).

The ‘Jigra’ actress also told PM Narendra Modi that she had recently seen a clip of him in Africa, standing with a soldier, who was singing her song.

“I think aap Africa gaye the. Maine wahan pe bhi ek clip dekha tha kuch jawan ke sath khade the aur vo uss time mera gana gaa rahe the. But maine vo clip dekha tha. Kafi logo ne mujhe bheja tha aur sab log bahut khush ho gaye.” (Recently, I think you went to Africa. I saw a clip where some soldiers were singing my song. Many people sent me that clip, and everyone felt so happy),” said Alia.

Meanwhile, the festival will celebrate the centenary of Raj Kapoor, one of the most iconic figures in Indian cinema, who passed away in 1988. It showcases 10 iconic Raj Kapoor films across 40 cities and 135 cinemas, with a ticket price of Rs 100. The announcement of the film festival, which will include screenings of classics such as Aag, Barsaat, Awaara, Shree 420, and Mera Naam Joker, has sparked excitement among cinema lovers.

Raj Kapoor’s films are renowned for their storytelling, timeless music, and social relevance. His legacy continues to influence generations of filmmakers and audiences. Known as “India’s Greatest Showman,” Raj Kapoor’s career spanned several decades, from his early days as a child actor to his later success as a director and producer. (ANI)

Bobby Remains Fascinating @ Fifty

By Mahendra Ved

Half a century’s hindsight affords an advantage, though unfair, to view an event with warts and all. The film ‘Bobby’ (1973), opens itself to a critical view, without impacting its popularity, the near-cult status it enjoys and the nostalgia of generations.

So, one begins with a little regret and stating without being judgmental, going only by published records and not gossip and rumours that the film world generates. It may or may not have been the first, but its success set the trend for many things that have become the norm today.

It came when socially and even politically relevant Hindi films, Garm Hawa for one, were being made and would experience release and experience issues, besides production costs. With massive publicity, Bobby’s puppy love story came dressed up as “sublime love.”

Politically, India was in rich-versus-poor ferment. Bobby projected no class struggle. It had two well-off families fighting for their respective pride. But socially, it bridged the religious divide by showing a romance between a Hindu boy and a Roman Catholic girl. Both these phenomena have witnessed massive churning and change in the last 50 years.

But as cinema, after what Bobby did to “Romeo and Juliet”, not officially claimed but touted, the country had to wait decades to witness Vishal Bharadwaj’s Indian adaptations of three tragedies by William Shakespeare: Maqbool (2003) from Macbeth, Omkara (2006) from Othello, and Haider (2014) from Hamlet. No reflection on the filmgoers of those times and these. To each generation its own.

As film writer Bhawana Somaaya records: “When the Sixties ended, Hindi films became increasingly entertainment-oriented and so full of mindless masala, that the Seventies saw a whole movement coming up in rebellion—what is now remembered as the Parallel or Art Cinema movement. This was the time when cinema was clearly divided into Art and Commerce and Middle-of-the-the-Road, and each had its followers.”

Bobby’s success set the trend for debut launches, especially of children of established stars. This is a never-ending debate. Although not the first, Raj Kapoor’s success with Rishi Kapoor was followed by Sunil Dutt (Sanjay), Dharmendra (the Deol brothers) and many more. The Kapoor family itself has four generations. The accusation is that they block ‘outsiders’. But let it be said that only the better ones of both types – and lucky ones, given the uncertainties of filmmaking, film marketing and the audience’s reception – have survived. Given India’s traditional father/mother often transfers legacy to son/daughter, neither the star launches nor the debate for and against them is likely to end.

Certainly not the first or the last, Bobby encouraged the purchasing of film awards. Here, one is going by Rishi Kapoor’s memoir, aptly titled “Khullam khulla”. He confessed to having ‘bought’ an award and was ‘ashamed’ about it. That left Amitabh Bachchan sulking because he was hoping to get it for ‘Zanjeer,’ Rishi said.

“I am sure he felt the award was rightfully his for Zanjeer, which was released the same year. I am ashamed to say it, but I actually ‘bought’ that award. I was so naïve. There was this PRO, Taraknath Gandhi, who said to me, ‘Sir, tees hazaar de do, toh aap ko main award dila doonga.’ I am not the manipulative sort but I admit that I gave him the money without thinking,” Rishi Kapoor writes in his memoir.

ALSO READ: Pakeezah – The Courtesan’s Classic

Rishi writes of how his ‘serious’ friendship with a girl ended when Stardust magazine wrote of his ‘romance’ with Bobby’s co-star Dimple Kapadia, although she was married to Rajesh Khanna and was even pregnant before Bobby was released.

Since then, the film paparazzi, like those in politics, business and all other spheres of public activity, have successfully emulated the global trend of digging for information, right or otherwise, at times in connivance with those looking for publicity or to settle scores. The social media has pushed that many times over.

Bobby came when India was socially conservative. People who then experienced their adolescence pangs and pleasures have, at its 50th anniversary (September 28), confessed to enjoying the Rishi-Dimple romance on the screen, keeping it a secret from their scandalised elders.  This is universal and timeless – again, to each generation its own. The trend has only been bucked by the fast-spreading culture spawned by not only films but much that is available, at home without going to a cinema theatre, on the OTT (over-the-top) platforms. Significantly, this has bloomed despite the political conservatism currently sweeping India.

Bobby came when Urdu/Hindustani dialogue and lyrics were still the norm in cinema that later evolved as ‘Bollywood’. Not the pioneer again, it set the trend for urbanised Hindi, even the one laced with Konkani spoken by Prem Nath who played a Bombay fisherman. It pushed away the flowery language in which the hero serenaded the heroine.

Bobby’s songs, all of them chart-busters, had a variety ranging from Konkani folk (“Ghey ghey re saheba”), to Punjabi-philosophical folk (“Beshak mandir masjid todo”) to the north Indian (“Jhooth Boley Kauwa Katey”). Incidentally, Raj Kapoor ended his 25-year musical collaboration with Shankar-Jaikishan, switching to another duo, Laxmikant Pyarelal. But while he broke away from Mukesh to have Shailendra Singh sing for Rishi, he had to mend professional fences with Lata Mangeshkar to sing for Dimple.

If the name ‘Bobby’ itself gained wider currency in India, unwittingly, the film was also the forerunner of the present era of brands and branding. A motorbike produced by a family firm related to the Kapoors hugely succeeded when marketed as ‘Bobby’ bike riding on which Raj and Bobby escape their angry parents from Bombay to Goa. Everything from soap to hair clips also sold better with the Bobby tag.  

Bobby’s success brought the RK Studios back to life. It launched Rishi’s romantic-hero career and a second one on retirement bringing out the best in him. And Dimple, although marriage and family kept her away from cinema, staged a comeback that is still thriving.

Rishi confirms that Raj Kapoor, already in huge debt after Mera Naam Joker had flopped, needed a life-saver. He did not have the money for Rajesh Khanna, Sharmila Tagore and Mumtaz who were keen to work with him. This proved a blessing. He found an actor from within the family. What the film would have been with the reigning stars of that era, even if successful, would have been run-of-the-mill. We would not have been introduced to teenage love. That makes the film a landmark, no less, in Indian Cinema.

The writer can be contacted at mahendraved07@gmail.com

Karisma

Karisma Describes Raj Kapoor As Fashion Icons

By LokMarg

Apart from her acting skills, Karisma Kapoor has always been looked upto for her fashion choices. From the early 90s to now, the elder daughter of veteran actors Randhir Kapoor and Babita, has never missed a chance to flaunt her fashion prowess.

Well, when it comes to dressing well, the Kapoor clan has undoubtedly proved that stylish genes do run in the family. Karisma believes the same.

While speaking to media on Day 1 of Lakme Fashion Week 2023 in Delhi, the ‘Raja Hindustani’ star recalled how her late grandparents left a profound impact on her with their style.

” I would honestly say my dadaji and my dadi (were the most fashionable members in my family)…they always wore white clothes. My dadi always wore white sarees…so my love for white came from there. And, of course, today it is my sister (who has been the most fashionable),” she said.

Karisma walked the ramp for ‘Raw Mango’ on Tuesday. She was seen in a golden jumpsuit with a half-black golden overcoat on it.

Sharing her experience hitting the ramp, Karisma added “As an actor, we are used to being in front of the camera and not in front of the ramp. I have to admit we always feel a bit nervous before walking the ramp, of course, I have done my fair share of ramp walks but tonight was different. It was like we were flowing with fashion.”

Actresses Saba Azad and Kalki were also a part of the opening show.

They all represented designer Sanjay Garg’s collection ‘Children of the Night’. (ANI)

Read More: https://lokmarg.com/