This particular Shammi Kapoor film has a very special place in my heart – because Yeh chaand sa roshan chehra was one of the first Hindi film songs I ever learnt to sing. I must’ve been about eight years old. I’d never seen the film; television was yet to make its way into our lives (it was just round the corner, though I didn’t get to see the song till much later). But I used to hear it now and then on radio, and sometimes on an LP my parents owned. I always did wonder who the heroine was, the woman who was praised for the fact that her ‘zulfon ka rang’ was sunehra, and who had jheel si neeli aankhein. Could she have been an Indian actress, I wondered? She sounded firang.
I eventually did get to see Yeh chaand sa roshan chehra and realised that Sharmila Tagore, though angelically pretty, had neither golden hair nor blue eyes. And I fell in love with Shammi Kapoor’s antics. The way he plunged into the water with that last mad bout of clapping!
I’ve seen Kashmir ki Kali several times over the years, and it’s still, for me, one of Shammi Kapoor’s most entertaining films. There’s everything here you could want from a trademark Shammi Kapoor film: gorgeous heroine, lovely setting, and awesome music. And – need one mention it? – a hero who’s handsome, fun, romantic… well, to put it briefly, a hero who is Shammi Kapoor.
The story begins at the 25th anniversary celebrations of a large factory. The owner, Rajeev Lal ‘Raju’ (Shammi Kapoor) has inherited this firm after the death of his father. They’ve done very well for themselves. But Raju seems to be something of a socialist, and those up on the dais with him – his mother (?) and the manager Shyam Lal (Madan Puri) are horrified when Raju announces the distribution of Rs 5 lakhs among the workers to celebrate the occasion.
Raju’s old nursemaid Karuna (Mridula Rani) is the one who’s been filling up his head with this nonsense, says Shyam Lal, who’s thoroughly peeved. Raju’s mother thinks highly of Karuna – not as a maid, she tells Shyam Lal – and it is to Karuna that she turns for advice on what to do about Raju’s impulsiveness. In time-honoured Hindi film style, they decide that Raju should be married off.
Raju manages to wriggle out of being ‘approved’ by any of the prospective brides and their fathers who are paraded at the Lal mansion – he does this by pretending to be dim-witted, deaf, mute, and lame – but knows he’s not going to be able to evade the topic much longer. Mum is very determined.
Raju’s friend Chander (Anoop Kumar) offers a solution (it seems more like a stopgap arrangement to me, but anyway): that Raju should slip away and go off on holiday. To Kashmir. Raju asks Chander to come along as well, but since Chander has a job which he’ll need a couple of days to resign from, they decide that Raju will go off to Kashmir on his own, and Chander will join him after a few days.
So Raju drives up to Kashmir, happily singing as he does so – only to realise, with nightfall, that the village inn he’s arrived at is full up. The innkeeper (Sundar) tells Raju that a bridge further up the road has collapsed, so there’s no going anywhere. Raju’s shivering and desperately in need of shelter, but the only place the innkeeper can offer him is under the staircase.
When Raju tries to light a small fire to keep him warm, the rising smoke wakes up some girls sleeping upstairs… and they try to put out the fire below by throwing a bucket of cold water – right on top of our poor hero. The main culprit is Champa (Sharmila Tagore, in her debut Hindi film role), a flower-seller who is accompanying a group of her friends from Pathankot to Kashmir. Every year the girls journey to Kashmir to perform at a local fair, and this year is no different.
Although she is defensive and huffy when a madder-than-a-wet-hen Raju accuses her of trying to drown him, Champa is actually sorry. Sorry enough, at least, to later creep downstairs with a blanket, which she drapes over the sleeping Raju. Only he isn’t sleeping, and the gesture endears her to him.
The next morning, he comes across Champa again, and offers her a lift in his car. Champa refuses. When Raju clarifies that he wants to reciprocate her help (that blanket), she says she’d helped him because she thought he was poor. So the wealthy Seth Rajeev Lal happily tells Champa that he isn’t rich. No way. The car is his boss’s; even his smart clothes are hand-me-downs from his boss. He is Raju, just a poor driver.
A blushing Champa still doesn’t get into the car, and goes off on foot. All Raju gets for his pains and his subterfuge is a grim warning from Mohan (Pran), a timber contractor who’s driven the girls from Pathankot to Srinagar in his truck. Mohan thinks of Champa as his girl, and is immediately suspicious of Raju’s motives.
When Raju finally arrives at his family mansion in Srinagar, it is to find that the manager, Bholaram (Dhumal) has converted the mansion into a hotel (Come September, Hindi film style?). The three girls to whom the place has been rented, along with their guardian (Tuntun) soon have an altercation with Raju, who threatens to throw them out by telling them that this is his house, he is Rajeev Lal.
… much confusion ensues, with Bholaram sorting things out by telling the women that this man – Raju – is a nutty friend of the real Rajeev Lal’s. Chander, arriving shortly after, is automatically assigned to the role of Rajeev Lal – which makes him the target for the affections of all three gold-digging young ladies:
Which leaves Raju plenty of time to romance Champa. This isn’t too difficult, because she’s already pretty much in love with him. Even though she does seem a little distressed when he serenades her right in the middle of the Dal Lake, as she’s rowing her shikara-full of flowers past him…
…she’s soon as enchanted by him as he is by her. (And who can blame her?!)
Interspersed with the dreamy songs and the gorgeousness – of Shammi, Sharmila and Srinagar – are a few glimpses of Champa’s personal life. Champa’s only living relative is her old, blind father Dinu (Nasir Hussain). She is devoted to him:
– and Dinu, in turn, dotes on her. She is so certain of her father’s love for her, that when Raju asks her if she’ll marry him, Champa is shyly certain that Dinu will not raise any objections to the match.
What she doesn’t know is that there is an ugly secret in Dinu’s life. We come to know of this one dark night, when Mohan comes to visit Dinu, to complain about Champa’s growing familiarity with Raju. Mohan insists that he will be the one marrying Champa. When Dinu shows signs of protesting, Mohan flings at him a hint of that ugly secret: Champa isn’t Dinu’s daughter. It emerges that Mohan has learnt this from another villager, someone who’s known Dinu for years altogether – since when Dinu was a dissolute drunk, a man who’d have sold his own soul for money.
Those years are long past, but they still haunt Dinu. So does the knowledge that Champa, whom he adores and cannot bear to be parted from, is not actually his daughter. Mohan says he’ll keep mum on one condition: that Champa be married off to him. Dinu, who can’t bring himself to let Champa realise that she isn’t his child – that he stole, her, in fact – has no choice but to agree.
So, tragedy hovers. Champa and Raju’s glorious love story is about to be blown to bits.
And, of course, one mustn’t forget the fact that Raju has all along been deceiving Champa by making her think he’s a poor ( I mean poverty-stricken, not reckless) driver. When, and how, will she come to realise that he’s actually a wealthy man, who’s been fooling her all this while? Plus – who is Champa, really?
What I liked about this film:
Basically, what I like about Kashmir ki Kali is that it’s the classic ‘Shammi Kapoor film’: replete with everything that pleases the senses: a stunning lead pair, in a beautiful setting, and with a plethora of superb songs. OP Nayyar – not a Shammi Kapoor ‘regular’ (that title must surely go to Shankar-Jaikishan) – composed a fantastic score for Kashmir ki Kali. While my favourite romantic song from this film (also one of my favourite romantic songs ever) is Deewana hua baadal, Yeh chaand sa roshan chehra and Ishaaron-ishaaron mein dil lene waale are among the other great songs from this film. Not to mention Kisi na kisi se kabhi na kabhi and Subhaan allah haseen chehra yeh mastaana adaayein – did Shammi Kapoor set some sort of record in this film for songs sung in different modes of transport?! In Kashmir ki Kali, he sings a song in a car, a shikara, and a truck.
What I didn’t like:
That would be nitpicking, now. But yes, Kashmir ki Kali is certainly one of those films that require a willing suspension of disbelief.
But then, if you like commercial Hindi cinema, that shouldn’t be a problem. And Shammi Kapoor, Sharmila Tagore, Kashmir and OP Nayyar compensate. More than enough.
By the way, if you haven’t seen this before, here is a scanned image of the ad Amul butter published when Shammi Kapoor passed away in August this year:
Though the illustrations are from other songs (Baar-baar dekho and Dil deke dekho, respectively), the headline is from this film.
Little bit of trivia:
The guitarist O P Nayyar used most frequently during this period was a man called Hazara Singh. It is his playing you hear through most of Chaand sa roshan chehra and other guitar-dominant tunes of this film.
Dustedoff 
Madhu, I’m so glad I was up to read this post. Makes me want to see Kashmir ki Kali again. It was filled with Shammi-gorgeousness from first to last. I don’t think Kashmir ever looked so beautiful afterwad (with other actors / actresses) as it did during Shammi’s heyday. (Hey, no one can accuse me of bias!) I agree about the suspension of disbelief. But hey, as long as there is a semblance of a story, and lots of Shammi, I amn’t complaining! :) And this one had far linear plot than Dil Deke Dekho.
LikeLike
You know, when I was almost 10 years old, my father got transferred to Srinagar, and even though I hadn’t seen any of these Kashmir-setting films till then (well, the only films I had seen were CID, Meena Kumari ki Amar Kahaani, and a bunch of Laurel and Hardy films)… I wondered what the Kashmir Valley would actually be like. It was wonderful to discover that Srinagar in the spring is actually every bit as beautiful as my father said it was in films like Kashmir ki Kali.
Now, 25 years after we’ve returned from Kashmir, watching this film brings back memories of our years there.
And, you know, I think in retrospect that Dil Deke Dekho is probably one of the most going here-and-there and complicated plots of any of Shammi Kapoor’s films that I love anyway. Kashmir ki Kali is certainly far better scripted.
LikeLike
You have seen Meena Kumari ki Amar Kahaani? How was it? Was it really a biography? I tried searching for that film, but never found it. I only remember a still from it, which often appeared in the Illustrated Weekily of India, where Meena Kumari and Madhubala (the actors playinng the roles of) are shown in a garden standing near each other.
LikeLike
Yes, I’ve seen Meena Kumari ki Amar Kahaani, but you must know that I saw it when I was only about 9 years old. I hadn’t seen any Meena Kumari films, and didn’t know a thing about her except that she used to be a famous actress… I have no recollection of the film except for the first scene which takes place in a graveyard where a bunch of ghosts – including Meena Kumari’s – meet. When I realised that the ‘heroine’ of the film was dead at the start of the film itself, I switched off. I seem to remember snatches of the film – clips from Meena Kumari’s major films. Inhi logon ne le liya dupatta mera, for instance. But nothing else. :-(
I’ll ask my parents if they recall anything. I know that film sank almost without a trace, though.
LikeLike
This film is gorgeous, such a visual treat. And Sharmila is really like a ‘kali’ in this one.
LikeLike
Yes, she looks so fragile and sweet in this. Very different from the Sharmila in An Evening in Paris.
LikeLike
Sharmila looks so differenthere without her hair-do (bouffant, wasn’t it?). I’m sure I haven’t seen this movie, although on DD they showed nearly all Shammi films.
I think one has to make a list of films, where in the absence of the owner of the house, it is turned into a hotel of sorts.
The songs are great in the film. I think without Shammi and Kashmir, the film would have sunk without trace though!
LikeLike
Yup, the ‘typical’ Sharmila hairdo of the later years (though a friend of mine used to call it a madhumakkhi ka chhatta!) was a bouffant. She looked stylish in it in some films (An Evening in Paris, for one), but it’s too OTT in many others. Here, in Kashmir ki Kali, she’s very sweet and young and unspoilt.
Shammi really did make this film what it was. And OP Nayyar, I’d say. With less fabulous music, another actor (Biswajit?) and a less gorgeous locale, it may well have been just another rich man-poor girl-long-lost children tale.
LikeLike
Madhu, in Bawarchi, there is a scene where AK Hangal refers to his daughter’s bouffant as Chidiya ka Ghosla.
And Biswajit? Don’t spoil my day even with hypotheticals!
LikeLike
A chidiya ka ghosla would also be a very apt description of some of those completely whacky bouffants – do you remember the ones Sharmila flaunted in some scenes in films like Mere Humdum Mere Dost? Whew. I always think “Now it’s going to topple off! Now…!!” :-D
LikeLike
Hey, those bouffants were the rage in my school days, and my biggest complaint was that my mother wouldn’t let me do one! Many of the girls in my class used to wear them to school, until the authorities took the decision (when I was in the 9th grade) to make two plaits compulsory. I think they thought that would make the bouffant disappear, but were they ever so wrong!
LikeLike
LOL! Yes, the bouffants were quite the rage, weren’t they? I remember old photos of my mum with my sister (who was then a baby), my mum with a very impressive bouffant. Looking very stylish. :-D
I hadn’t realised girls as young as in school would wear bouffants too.
LikeLike
Can’t praise this enough. Love it so much :)
LikeLike
Actually, now that I come to think of it, there are very few peak-Shammi Kapoor films (I’m not counting stuff from his early days in the industry, and not films where he was basically a character actor) – that I don’t like something about. Sometimes, as with Kashmir ki Kali (or Junglee or Professor), everything is just right. And that’s bliss.
LikeLike
I had this HUGE smile on my face and I’m still smiling as I read this. Thank God I found your blog!!! Esp this whole Shammi Kapoor week thing is such fun! I saw this film when they showed it on Doordarshan and yes, the way he plunges into the water was absolutely guffaw inducing. Also, only Shammi Kapoor could have done that. We had this teacher in school who was our favourite and we used to sing Yeh chand sa roshan chehra for her every time she entered the class! :D
LikeLike
Thank you so much, Andaleeb! You made my day with your comment – I’m glad you’re enjoying these posts.
Several film stars (Nalini Jaywant, Elizabeth Taylor, Tony Curtis, etc) have passed away over the past year, but as I was mentioning in a tribute I posted after Shammi Kapoor died, none of their deaths affected me the way Shammi Kapoor’s did. I was actually so miserable that the only way I could console myself a little was to watch one film of his every day of the next week. I didn’t get much work done that week, but anyway…
That is cute, about your class singing Yeh chaand sa roshan chehraa to your favourite teacher! Must’ve made her very happy indeed. I don’t recall my classmates and I ever liking any of our teachers enough to attempt doing anything of the sort, but I remember my friends and I spending most of our lunch breaks discussing the merits of our favourite actors – and Shammi Kapoor was the only one everybody agreed was perfect.
LikeLike
Junglee is my favourite. Waiting to read about that one!
LikeLike
The day after tomorrow. :-) It’s one of my favourites, too – I just love it.
LikeLike
His only film that I didn’t like so much was Andaz. For some reason he didn’t seem to fit with Hema Malini. Also, it was hard to overpower Rajesh Khanna’s Zindagi Ek Safar Hai Suhana song and Shammi didn’t dance at all in this, right? But I still liked the way the romance blossomed between him and Hema. That was the last film of his I’d seen as Shammi Kapoor as I remembered him, handsome and young. When I saw him some years later in Vidhaata I was shocked. I refused to believe it was the same man and I remember being heart broken that he had changed so much. I actually asked my father if Shammi Kapoor could be deflated with a pin and whether that would help him go back to looking how he did. :D
LikeLike
Yes, he certainly didn’t look his best in films like Andaaz or even slightly earlier ones like Prince, Tumse Achcha Kaun Hai, Pagla Kahin Ka and Pritam. And no, I doubt if deflating him with a pin would’ve helped!! (That was cute! All the Kapoor men seem to have this tendency to bloat up frightfully as they grow older, don’t they? Though Shammi, towards the end, had lost a lot of weight and was looking very frail… never mind. I always think of him as the glorious Shammi Kapoor of Junglee or Professor. He was simply out of this world in those.
It’s an interesting coincidence that you should say you didn’t like Andaaz too much, because that’s one film I’ve mentioned specifically in my latest post. ;-)
LikeLike
I had first seen this movie on Doordarshan and was totally smitten. I had heard the songs and seen them on tv in Rangoli and Chitrahaar but getting to see all of them at one go was an amazing experience. I remember watching an episode of Rangoli where the host (dont remember who exactly it was) had said – watching a Shammi Kapoor film is like watching Chitrahaar, where one gets to see a song every few minutes.
Each song in this movie is such a treat to the ears and eyes (thanks to Shammi Kapoor, and Rafi and OPN!)
Deewana hua baadal and Ishaaron ishaaron mein are two of my most favourite romantic songs. Totally love Yeh duniya usi ki too.
Sharmila was very young and sweet and yet-to-be-glamourised in this film and that innocence was worth all the songs that Shammi sings for her :-)
I love this film in every way possible and so rightly said that this film wouldn’t have been the same without Shammi Kapoor!
LikeLike
Yes, Deewaana hua baadal is so wonderful, isn’t it? So, of course, is Ishaaron-ishaaron mein dil lenewaale, but somehow the picturisation of that was spoilt a little for me by the fact that it’s on an obviously fake set. Yes, I’m being nitpicking, but anyway… though the song itself is lovely.
Oh, I agree completely with whoever said watching a Shammi Kapoor film was like watching Chitrahaar – there was one song after another, and all good songs too! (I have watched other films – not Shammi Kapoor’s – which had lots of songs, but only maybe one or two that one would want to watch again and again). With Shammi Kapoor, each song becomes an important part of the film, because it’s invariably so enjoyable not just to listen to, but to experience as well.
LikeLike
This was a gorgeous film, Sharmila was absolutely gorgeous, and so was Shammi! I was a thirteen year old, in love with the idea of romance and romantic songs. I was in love with all the songs, esp “Tareef karun kya uski …” and “Deewana hua badal …”, and I still am! My only regret is that I never got the chance to visit Kashmir in those days, and I passed on the chance to go there for a honeymoon, opting for a short trip to Bangalore instead. Now I watch the DVD whenever I want to enjoy some visual and audio splendor! Thanks for the wonderful post that sent me on a nostalgic trip, Madhu!
LikeLike
And thank you for the appreciation, Lalitha!
Well, maybe you can plan a brief trip to Kashmir now the next time you visit India. Things have improved considerably, and I remember reading recently in the newspaper that this year saw a record number of tourists visiting the Valley. I’ve been telling my husband I’d love to go again – maybe next April or so, when spring reigns in Srinagar. Just the thought of it makes me go all dewy-eyed.
But, till then, thank God for Kashmir ki Kali and Junglee!
LikeLike
Not only Shammi Kapoor (as always of course), but Sharmila too looks the best here (or any other film where she doesn’t have that exaggerated hair do – how I disliked it on her small face).
This film and Junglee showed us Kashmir in its full glory. There were others like Arzoo and Jab Jab Phool Khile – but nothing beats a Shammi Kapoor in Kashmir.
The look Shammi Kapoor is giving Sharmila in the second last picture (excluding the lovable Amul one) is one of the reasons why I adore him :)
I wonder at the lyrics;
zulfon ka rang sunehra – jheel si neeli ankhen’.
Why? I ask. :-/
LikeLike
pacifist, I think it was buying into the ‘blonde-and-blue-eyed’ trope that was so popular in those days. :) I had an Afghani friend whose hair was light brown and her eyes were bluish-grey – I remember the boys in school falling over themselves trying to get to know her.
LikeLike
No wonder they had what Greta calls so many ‘gori extras’ in the films! And it probably accounts for otherwise-Indian actresses dressing up in blonde wigs and with coloured contacts to pretend to be blonde and blue-eyed. Remember Helen in Aa jaan-e-jaan from Intaqaam?
Personally, I’d ask my man to go to an opthalmologist if he thought I was blonde and blue-eyed when I’m nowhere close. ;-)
LikeLike
Ah, you have it, pacifist! I was wondering why it was that that towering bouffant didn’t suit Sharmila, especially when lots of other actresses too wore huge hairdos around that time. Of course. Her face was too small.
You know the one scene in Kashmir ki Kali that really brings out Kashmir at its best for me? Those few lines in Deewaana hua baadal when Shammi Kapoor is wandering through the flowering trees – almond trees, if I remember correctly, and the trees are showering him with white flowers. That’s so awesomely Kashmir.
LikeLike
I always found it funny that though the movie is titled “Kashmir Ki Kali”, it’s Shammi who could pass for a Kashmiri rather than Sharmila who despite the overabundance of Kashmiri jewelry and costumes looks every bit the Bengali girl that she is.
Although I love the movie, I was overcome with sadness as I read this post today. Reading it reminded me of my Dad who passed away on this day last year, of Shammi, and my home Kashmir – none of which I’ll ever get back again.:-(
LikeLike
Oh, I’m sorry, Shalini, about your father. RIP. And Shammi Kapoor, of course.
It’s been 25 years since we had to leave Srinagar and come to Delhi after my father got posted here, but I always hope someday to go back. I’ve been back to Ladakh, but then there’s no comparing the Valley with Ladakh… I want to see the almond trees in full bloom in Badami Bagh. The daffodils and tulips and narcissi, the irises. I want to be there in autumn again, when the chinars turn orange and gold.
I am getting so homesick. :-(
(Yes, odd, I know, considering I’m not a Kashmiri, and considering that I lived in Srinagar only for 3 years… but the memories of that place are so strong and so fond, I don’t think I’ll be able to rest easy until I go back – at least once).
LikeLike
Loving the sari’s of the gold digging women, i shall add this to my piles of films i should get around to watching soon, though I’ve played the songs on my dvd copy. I love Chaand sa roshan too, i love the arrangements and i constantly imitate the singing style with my rather croaky awaaz, especially the part where it picks up with tareef karu kya uske, jis ne tumhe banaya and my moserbaer dvd of this i realised didn’t subtitle the songs (grits teeth in annoyance)
LikeLike
This one actually had some really lovely costumes – Shammi Kapoor looked very urbane and stylish (though, since I’ve been watching Masterchef Australia and getting a surfeit of Matt Preston, I must admit to Shammi’s cravats reminding me of someone…!) :-D
I just wish we’d got the opportunity to see Sharmila in some pretty saris in this film. But her phirans (though fitted – not something I’ve ever seen in a phiran) are lovely too. And I really love that large silver fish-shaped pendant she wears in some scenes (you can see it in that screenshot of her with Nasir Hussain).
LikeLike
Kashmir ki kali was a real entertainer.Not only was it a total ‘Shammi movie’ as many define it,it also played a very important role in his career.As i told you in my Junglee comment before,Shammi had just 4 flops and 7 huge hits in the period from 1961-65.Interestingly,all those 4 flops came back to back after Shammi had given 4 superhits in a row.After those 4 flops in a succession,many people had started talking that Shammi had lost his superstardom status and was on his way out.But then came Kashmir ki kali and reinforced Shammi’s Superstardom.After KKK,Shammi never faced any such bad phase in his career till he himself decided to retire from lead roles in 1972.
yes,i too agree that KKK needs a lot of disbelief but then most of commercial bollywood film needs that.Anyways,KKK provides cracking entertainment along with a hordes of great songs,which again like Junglee ,are really well picturised [this time by Shakti Samanta].
LikeLike
I haven’t checked the latest comments on the Junglee post yet, so I haven’t seen that comment of yours, Raunak – but that’s an interesting one. Yes, Shammi Kapoor was really BIG as a star in the early 60s, wasn’t he? And I’m glad he took the decision to retire from lead roles at a time when he was still very popular (though, personally, some of his later lead roles – especially Pritam and Jawaan Mohabbat – make me cringe a little; he was too bulky and looked older than he was, to be indulging in the capers he did onscreen. At least films like Andaaz, while keeping him in the lead, had him behave his age.
LikeLike
I thoroughly enjoyed reading this, makes me want to fish out my ‘Kashmir ki Kali’ DVD right away and enjoy it all over again. I LOVE this film… everything about it works for me. Gorgeous lead pair (I loved Sharmila and all her outfits!), gorgeous setting, gorgeous Shammi song picturisations, gorgeous music (I have a soft spot for ‘Yeh chaand sa roshan chehra’, I just love it).
LikeLike
Sharmila’s outfits are lovely, aren’t they? Not very authentic, but then, the usual phiran is a pretty shapeless sort of garment that would make any woman look a frump; so I don’t blame whoever designed Sharmila’s phirans in Kashmir ki Kali, for having made them more or less figure-hugging.
And the rest – oh yes, oh yes! The songs, Shammi, the settings. Mmm.
LikeLike
this has such a special place in my heart! I watched it when I was 13 and when the schools were shut due to the raging Mandal agitation.
It was the first Hindi film I saw on video and ; and I fell in love with Shammi Kapoor, Sharmila Tagore, Mohd Rafi and Asha Bhosle! The music, visuals…..aha everything ….I was smitten for life.! thanks for rekindling the memories. :)
LikeLike
I don’t remember when I saw it – definitely long before the Mandal agitation, but I do recall falling in love with Kashmir ki Kali the very first time. I still prefer Junglee and Professor to this one, but it’s certainly one of Shammi Kapoor’s most entertaining films. And the songs are perfect. :-)
LikeLike
And yes, Deewana hua badal is probably one of the most romantic songs ever…. And my personal favourite till date :) need to listen it again… Been a while!
LikeLike
It is ethereal. I’m listening to it right now, so here’s the link, just in case you want to listen (and/or watch):
LikeLike
Just finished watching KKK all over again and loved every minute of it again! So then I came here to read your post and love it all over again! Thanks, Madhu, for giving me one more opportunity to love that movie.
LikeLike
Thank you for stopping by, Lalitha, to say that! This is one movie I’ve watched I don’t know how many times – so much eye candy and ear candy. :-)
LikeLike
Shammi kapoor….one of the greatest actors in our film industry…….and the dimple dove sharmila tagore…i loved this movie…the sceneries, the songs….unlike today’s movies where over-the-top actors are involved with motion effects and more people are dragged unnecessarily into the ‘stories’ which aren’t really one….
these gem movies contained good stories/minimal actors/subtle make-up/simple acting (as dilip sir (dilip kumar) said – acting is all about ‘not acting’)….wish we had good stories like this now…
LikeLike
That charming innocence, and the total paisa-vasool entertainment of those films seem to have vanished, sadly. :-(
LikeLike