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When Naseeruddin Shah said in an interview to Hindustan Times that Rajesh Khanna introduced mediocrity in films in the 1970s and was a ‘limited’ actor who acted in films without ‘a story’, it came as a surprise to many (and not just hard-core Rajesh Khanna fans.)
Because while Rajesh Khanna is remembered by many as India’s first superstar, he was also a fine actor, imbuing his characters with sensitivity, relatability and a whiff of humorous cynicism.
Yes, Khanna was emblematic of a removed-from-reality, sanitised Hindi cinema in the 70s, where even when the boy and girl would rebel to fall in love, they would do so in designer clothes in picturesque locales.
‘Pushpa, I hate tears.’
A line which has been used by various stand-up comics, comedy sketches, memes and even featured on coffee mugs. But when it was released, Amar Prem was known more for its fearless take on taboo social issues than the immemorial line about tear duct glands.
Directed by Shakti Samanta, the film portrays the life of Puspha (played by Sharmila Tagore) who is beaten up by her husband and is forced to leave her village. She is sold to a brothel in Calcutta where she falls in love with a lonely businessman, Anand Babu. Furthermore, Pushpa takes it upon herself to mother Nandu, a neglected boy who is her neighbour’s son.
The film fearlessly depicts a taboo love, breaks stereotypes about prostitution, and questions traditional ideas of motherhood; set to rhythmic cadences of a boat floating in the Ganga to RD Burman’s melodies.
Rajesh Khanna was never supposed to do Anand.
Director Hrishikesh Mukherjee wanted Shashi Kapoor to play the role of Anand, the optimistic, gregarious, terminally-ill cancer patient who teaches anguished and disillusioned Dr. Bhaskar (played by Amitabh Bachchan) a thing or two about living life. But destiny had something else in store for Khanna. And Anand came to define Khanna’s career in a way no other film did.
But apart from showcasing Khanna’s acting skills at its best, Anand dealt with existential questions about the helplessness at being a witness to death through Dr. Bhaskar’s cynicism and the importance of living life in the present, through Anand’s relentless love for life.
Few images in Hindi film history symbolise poignance, hope, tragedy and philosophy as the image of a bunch of balloons floating in the air. And we have Hrishikesh Mukherjee’s genius and Khanna’s brilliance to thank.
A glowering fire. A radiant Sharmila Tagore. A mischievous Rajesh Khanna. And attraction in the air.
For a generation of film-goers, Aradhana is etched in memory for that one song. With its sensuality, ‘Roop Tera Mastaana’ was a departure from the ‘flowers-and-bees’ approach to portraying sex in Hindi films. But pre-marital sex is just one of the taboo topics that this Shakti Samanta-directed film deal with.
Through the trope of a self-sacrificing mother, the film unflinchingly looks at abuse within home, the stigma around being a single mother and even the skewed nature of the justice system. And without Rajesh Khanna’s fantastic illustration of the flamboyant Arun, and his sensitive son Varun, the film would not have become the cult classic that it has today.
Long before Baghban came Avtaar.
A film dealing with elder abuse with remarkable sensitivity, it starred Shabana Azmi and Rajesh Khanna as parents spurned by their children and living in destitution in their old age. The film traces the journey of Avtaar and Radha, through their struggles to bring up their three sons, their helplessness as they depend on the family servant after their children throw them out to a final resolve to reach out to other parents who are victims of elder abuse.
The film got Rajesh Khanna a Filmfare nomination, and was a marked departure from his ‘romantic hero’ image since he played a 70-year-old man barely struggling to make ends meet.
A dysfunctional family which is unable to retain a cook for more than a year is hardly the stage you’d expect a superstar to inhabit. But not only did Rajesh Khanna play the role of Raghu with aplomb, he made it his own in a way which is still remembered.
With characteristic Hrishikesh Mukherjee humour, set neatly in the confines of a middle class home, Bawarchi brought to the screen many bitter truths about changing family stricture, modernisation, and family relationships with a healthy dose of humour. In the hands of any other actor, Raghu would have come across as preachy, interfering and just annoying. But with the impishness and mischief of Rajesh Khanna, he became the cook every film-goer secretly wished to find.
There’s a fine line between opinion and ignorance. And while there is no taking away from the brilliant work Naseeruddin Shah has done over the years, his comment veers towards ignorance.
Ignorance, of not only the finesse with which Rajesh Khanna understood and portrayed characters in his peak in the 70s. But also, a dismissiveness towards legions of fans who adored him and his brand of popular cinema.
You may differ, Mr. Shah, on the reasons for which Rajesh Khanna was called a superstar and you may disagree with his brand of populist cinema but it’d be hard to deny the credibility of the incredible work Rajesh Khanna left behind and the indelible mark he left on Hindi cinema.
(Sources: Hindustan Times, Firstpost)
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