Pyaar ka Mausam (1969)

Or, The Nasir Hussain Rule Book of Fool-proof Rehashing.

I’m beginning to think I’m an idiot for trying to think up new stories every time I write. Look at people like Betty Neels or Nasir Hussain; they managed to get by with basically the same story, over and over again, and very successfully too. [which makes me wonder: were Hussain and Neels long-lost brother and sister?]

Take the latter’s Pyaar ka Mausam, for example. I’d seen this film as a kid and remembered little of it except the very good music and the pretty lead pair. A rewatch last night revealed that it amounted to a cocktail of Nasir Hussain’s earlier films: Tumsa Nahin Dekha, Dil Deke Dekho, and Phir Wohi Dil Laaya Hoon. Same story, same plot elements, same rules from The Rule Book.
[Note: These rules will make more sense if you’ve seen one or more of the films I’ve mentioned above. If you haven’t, think of it this way: you’ll get to know about four films just from one review].

Rule #1: Story begins with generation 1. This generation is characterised by:
(a) Wealth
(b) Bad blood
(c) Wasti (though, to be fair, he didn’t feature in Tumsa Nahin Dekha)

Here, we begin at the estate of wealthy widower, Ranjit Singh (Wasti himself). Ranjit Singh has a daughter named Jamuna (Nirupa Roy) from whom he’s been estranged for the past five years, after she eloped with Gopal, a poor estate manager whom Ranjit Singh didn’t approve of. [I’m wondering why all the estate managers in old Hindi films end up romancing the disapproving boss’s female relative—daughter, grand-daughter, sister, etc].

Anyway, Ranjit Singh is now feeling the loss of an offspring, and has decided he wants to adopt the motherless child of one of his employees. The employee is, thankfully for Ranjit Singh, very morose after his wife’s death and doesn’t seem to want to live much longer…

…which is just as well, because he cops it soon after, in a skirmish with Shankar (Madan Puri) and Shankar’s dastardly gang. We also learn that Shankar is actually Ranjit Singh’s stepbrother. Ranjit Singh’s father willed all his wealth to Ranjit Singh, so a very sore Shankar has been, ever since, trying to wreak vengeance on Ranjit Singh and all of Ranjit Singh’s clan.

With the morose employee dead, Ranjit adopts the man’s orphaned baby, Seema.

Meanwhile, we are introduced to Jamuna and Gopal (Bharat Bhushan) and their four-year old son, Sunder. Jamuna has been wanting a reconciliation with her father, but Gopal refuses; he’s still smarting with the humiliation of being rejected by Ranjit Singh. He’d much rather sit here in their hut, singing to his wife. [Basically an excuse to introduce us to this song, which will get repeated throughout the film. Thankfully, it’s a good song.]

Jamuna, however, writes a letter to her daddy behind Gopal’s back. Ranjit is overjoyed to hear of their whereabouts, and that Jamuna has a little son. “When they grow up, Seema and my grandson will be married,” he says to his sister Kamla (Dulari). [Rule #2: two unrelated infants of opposite sexes cannot be spoken of in the same breath without wanting to get them married as adults. And destiny always listens].

Ranjit Singh lets Jamuna know he’ll be coming to meet them on Diwali. Therefore, come Diwali, Jamuna sneaks off to receive her father at the local landmark, leaving Sunder in Gopal’s care.
Gopal, busy dressing up for the Diwali celebrations, doesn’t notice that Sunder wanders off outside by himself. And, just then, a passing traveller stops by, asking for shelter.

As if this isn’t complicated enough, the baddie, Shankar, has come to know—through his stooge on Ranjit’s estate—that Ranjit and Jamuna are being reunited. And that Jamuna has a little son. This means that Ranjit now has an heir to whom he will hand over all his money [leaving Shankar still ‘poor’, so to say, though he does seem to be rich enough to employ a horde of goons and keep them supplied with guns, trucks, and the other tools of their evil trade]. 
So Shankar sends off his men to torch Gopal’s hut, to get rid of Gopal, Jamuna and Sunder at one fell swoop.

With the result that:
(a) The traveller in Gopal’s hut burns to a crisp, leaving a convenient corpse for everybody to identify as Gopal.
(b) Gopal is blinded by the fire and a falling beam, and is hauled away to a hospital by passersby, who don’t stop to think that this man’s relatives might wonder where he’s got to.
(c) Jamuna, returning home with daddy, finds her hut burnt, her son vanished and her husband (or so she thinks) dead. The trauma drives her nuts.

[Rule #3: Disasters come not in threes, but as legion. Malicious plots + coincidences + stupidity + physical/mental disabilities that prevent recognition = essentials of a lost-and-found story].

And, it’s time for Rule #4: The fate of the child. The poor little waif has to be found and adopted by a passing couple who are:
(a) wealthy (to make sure the child grows up well-attired and well-educated enough to appeal to the child’s original relative’s sophisticated foster child)
(b) childless
(c) selfish and/or stupid enough to not look for the child’s relatives

And, of course, Rule #5: The child grows up to be smart, handsome (in Nasir Hussain’s films, it’s always the male child who’s lost), and having just gotten a ‘first class pass’ in his final year of college.
It is at this point that we meet up again with Sunder (now Shashi Kapoor), whose adoptive parents have named him Sunil. Despite the fact that they now have a natural son of their own (named Prakash, played by a terrible actor), they are very fond of Sunil.

Sunil, chatting with a friend (Ram Avtar) confides in him that his (Sunil’s, not his friend’s) heart was lost to a girl in Ooty, where Sunil had been studying in college.

This is where Rule #6 (accompanied by various sub-rules) comes in: The hero must fall only for the foster daughter of his lost relative.
Sub-rule (a):
He’ll meet her at a party/picnic/on the road. (In this case, he meets Seema—played by Asha Parekh—at a picnic).
Sub-rule (b): She must be accompanied by various female friends, of whom Tabassum and/or Laxmi Chhaya will be particularly chummy.

Sub-rule (c): He must immediately fall in love with her, and decide that the best way to romance her is to fool her and her friends, by making one of them think he is actually betrothed to the heroine, while making the heroine think he is the fiancé of the friend instead. All very complicated and pointless, in my opinion, but it invariably lets the audience watch a good song. [If you’ve seen Dil Deke Dekho, you’ll know what I’m talking about. In Dil Deke Dekho, it was Megha re bole/Bade hain dil ke kale; here, it’s Ni sultana re pyaar ka mausam aaya].

Back to the present. Sunil goes off with his friend, and happens to meet Seema all over again. Only, this time, there’s a glitch: an unwanted third.
Rule #7: A buffoonish fiancé or intended must turn up, in the form of Rajendranath, wooing the heroine. He (Rajendranath) does, here in the form of Jhatpat Singh, a poet of doggerel, whose father has informed Ranjit Singh that Jhatpat Singh and Seema had been promised to each other as babies. [Ugh].

Rule #8: The arrival of this ‘kabab mein haddi’ must have little or no purpose other than to allow the hero to romance the heroine, mostly by pulling a fast one on her. In this case, Sunil uses the arrival of Jhatpat Singh to send Jhatpat Singh off on a wild goose chase, leading to a very silly bit of slapstick pie-in-the-face fight at a night club (with Shetty putting in a guest appearance). Jhatpat’s equally loony secretary, by the way, is played by RD Burman himself.

As part of all this pointless craziness, Sunil tells Seema that he, Sunil, is actually Jhatpat Singh. Which, of course, makes Seema declare vehemently that she will not marry him, no matter what. [Rule #9: The heroine, even if obviously in love with the pesky hero, must be obstinate about not loving him]. She makes faces at him, is generally rude and abusive (well, he is a pest, too, so perhaps she has reason), and she tries to make him jealous by going off with another man, only to end up drunk and having to be saved by Sunil, whom she pesters even further.

…all of which [Finally! Thank heavens!] leads Seema and Sunil to admit their dear, sincere, very deep devotion to each other.

What with the last hour [more?] having been spent on the romance, and that out of the way now, the story can take a more dramatic turn. It’s time for Rule #10. The villain’s villainy must resurface in the form of his son, who should discover the facts of the matter and pass himself off as the long-lost heir.
Which, as you can well guess, is what the rest of the film basically revolves around. Nasty old Shankar has a grown-up son, Ramesh (Krishan Mehta), who’s as nasty as his daddy.

Between them, the father, the son, and their henchmen (including Iftekhar, in an unusual role as the goon rather than the cop):

…have discovered long-lost Gopal. [This gives me an opportunity to plug in Rule #11: Coincidental meetings between long-lost relatives who cannot recognise each other now. Unknown to either of them, Sunil and a penurious Gopal have met on the road—Sunil has liked (and learnt) Gopal’s signature song. In turn, Gopal has shared the sad story of how his world fell apart].

Back to where we were, and Ramesh and his evil father plot to present Ramesh as the long-lost Sunder to Ranjit, who will of course immediately bestow all his wealth and the hand of Seema on this beloved grandson of his.

Hmm. If you happen to have seen any of the films I’d mentioned earlier, you’ll have a good idea of how terribly complicated all of this can become. It does (I think more than the other films I’d mentioned), and there’s loads of villainy, melodrama, self-sacrifice, mute suffering, and misunderstanding to come.

What I liked about this film:

The music. By R D Burman, set to lyrics by Majrooh Sultanpuri. The beautiful Tum bin jaaoon kahaan—sung playback by Kishore Kumar for Bharat Bhushan, and by Mohammad Rafi for Shashi Kapoor—is my favourite by far. But the other songs are great too: among the other ones I like a lot are Ni sultana re pyaar ka mausam aaya, Main na miloongi nazar hata lo, and Na jaa o mere humdum.

Shashi Kapoor and Asha Parekh. Perfect eye candy.

What I didn’t like:

The complications in the story. For the first hour or so, it’s a little complex but with a little effort, one can still follow the story. After that, once it’s been firmly established that Sunil and Seema love each other, the story goes completely haywire, what with Shankar and Ramesh’s plotting, Jhatpat’s presence, and the many emotional highs and lows as Ranjit, Jamuna, Gopal, Sunil, Seema and a host of others try to figure out what’s going on. [I should probably add my name to that list of people. And this, mind you, when I’ve already seen a bunch of other Nasir Hussain films with pretty much the same plot].

If you like lost-and-found films (I do), I’d certainly recommend Nasir Hussain’s works. Dil Deke Dekho, Tumsa Nahin Dekha, and Phir Wohi Dil Laaya Hoon are my idea of good, romantic/funny/dramatic films, with the right amount of complications—but Pyaar ka Mausam, as far as I’m concerned, goes over the top when it comes to complications. It’s still good, but not as much as the others.

87 thoughts on “Pyaar ka Mausam (1969)

  1. Asha Parekh! Again? Madhulika, if I die laughing you’ll be held responsible ;p No, honestly. Just see her in that “Main na miloongi” song :-)


  2. Madhulika, the great I S Johar had told me during the course of a chat that he had come from Lahore with one story in his pocket that he made over and over again–a rich girl who runs away from home, meets a young man and has two conment (johar and majnu) who want to claim the reward. I would say even Manmohan Desai stuck to the tried and tested lost and found formula.


    • Sidharth, that IS Johar plot you mentioned reminded me of Ek Thi Ladki (okay, Meena Shorey isn’t a rich girl, but still… Johar and Majnu are there as conmen, and Motilal, while not exactly young, was certainly quite debonair).

      I also agree about Manmohan Desai also sticking pretty much to the lost and found formula – it was a fairly popular plot, wasn’t it? BR Chopra, GP Sippy (I’m especially thinking of Mere Sanam, which could well have been from the Nasir Hussain stable)… plenty of reunited siblings/parents to be found in Hindi cienma.


  3. Indeed, Nasir Hussain’s movies worked off a very standard template. Possibly the most obvious element of this is his roothna-manaana (or mock-hero-heroine-fight) song ( right from “dekh kasam se” in Tumsa Nahin Dekha to “o meri soni” in Yaadon Ki Baarat, with a liberal spattering in between, with the likes of “o mera sona re”). In fact this even went on through the 80s, all the way to “Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak” (family production, Nasir wrote the dialogues/screenplay for this too).

    I think when people talk about formula films in Hindi cinema, Nasir Hussain must be mentioned as one of the kings in this genre. As has been mentioned, Manmohan Desai did a lot of this too – the lost-and-found story, the coincidences that make you sigh at times. :-)

    The saving grace is that invariably these movies had good songs – and the locations/sets were also usually just beautiful to watch. So if you’re looking for a timepass movie, good songs, good eye candy all around, you could do worse than just pick up a random Nasir Hussain movie.

    Maybe that’s why almost ALL these movies did very well. The one NH movie that was a bit different (Baharon Ke Sapne) didn’t do particularly well at the box-office, possibly prompting NH to stick to his formula. Pyar Ka Mausam and Caravan probably just confirmed to him what his audience wanted from him.

    Btw, the Rajendranath role in this movie reminds me of his Popatlal role in Jab Pyar Kisi Se Hota Hai (another NH movie).

    I’ve seen Pyar Ka Mausam a couple of times but don’t remember all the details. I do remember that “ni sultana re” song – love it! In fact that is one of the first songs I remember from my younger days.

    Thanks for this most entertaining review, Madhu. As usual, you’ve not just got it spot on with your analysis of the movie elements, you’ve also managed to bring it across in your usual style.


    • Thank you, Raja!

      Ah, yes. The roothna-manaana. Remember the post I’d dedicated a while back to pacifist, where heroines were the ones doing the manaana? While watching Pyaar ka Mausam, I saw Na jaa o mere humdum, and was reminded of that.

      Despite all the fun I’ve made of this formula, I must admit that no matter how convoluted and completely unrealistic this particular type of film was, I’ve always found them very appealing (perhaps there’s a certain comfort in knowing what’s going to happen!) And I agree totally that when it comes to timepass movie, good songs and good eye candy all around, Nasir Hussain can be counted upon to deliver.

      It’s been so long since I watched Jab Pyaar Kisise Hota Hai, I’ve forgotten Rajendranath’s role in it. But he did play similar roles in Dil Deke Dekho and Phir Wohi Dil Laaya Hoon too. (Incidentally, I should’ve included another rule: Rajendranath must appear in a dress sometime in the course of the film). He does, here and in Phir Wohi Dil Laaya Hoon. I wonder why film makers seemed to think men in dresses could be so funny – especially when there was no logical reason for them to be in a dress. Remember Dhumal in Gumnaam?


  4. char ka ek, char ka ek, char ka ek!
    Wonderful review, madhu!
    Laughed till tears came.
    But these are the reasons why we love Nasi rHussain, don’t we?
    Lovely locales, beautiful people, comedy, tragic but not really and a happy end! Poora paisavasool
    Can’t really blame him, he tried a different story in Baharo Ke Sapne andit sunk like a stone. Poor thing, he thought it better to remain true to time and public tested formula!
    BTW love madan Puri’s wig, so curly. How I would love to have such hair! Par yeh sab ganje ke kismat me kahan? If I go into Hindi films, maybe they will also let me wear such a wig!
    Bollywood main aa raha hoon, Botany main jaa raha hoon!


    • Hehehe. Harvey, you’re a clown. That “char ka ek, char ka ek, char ka ek!” had me in splits. :-D

      And you’re so right, Nasir Hussain’s movies are total paisa vasool. No matter what it is you want out of films – romance, comedy, melodrama, action, prettiness, music – you’ll get it. Okay, maybe not great cinema, but enjoyable, entertaining cinema, definitely.

      Do botany (and more importantly, your colleagues etc) know you’re off to Bollywood? (By the way, I think you’d probably have made a very good Hindi filmstar back then, when nodding flowers and hare-bhare khet were oh so popular in Hindi cinema. You’d have been the correct hero to whisper gently to the heroine not to shove her face into the oleander or venture too close to the bichhoo-booti.


      • “Do botany (and more importantly, your colleagues etc) know you’re off to Bollywood?”
        I think they will be so glad, that they will pool in money to buy me the ticket! ;-)

        “I think you’d probably have made a very good Hindi filmstar back then”
        Yeah, I could have worn a wig like Raaj Kumar/Rakesh Roshan, carry a paunch like Raj Kapoor or Sanjeev Kumar and be wooden like Bharat Bhushan and jump aorund in white pants and shoes like Jeetendra. Kya combination hai? Poora super-hit formoolah! ;-)


        • You’ve just sealed your fate, Harvey. The die-hard fans of Raj Kumar, Rakesh Roshan, RK, Sanjeev Kumar, Bharat Bhushan (do you know if he had any die-hard fans) etc will be taking out a supari in your name. To make such fun of their heroes! Shame!

          Oh, and you forgot to take into consideration your voice. You’ll be a superstar, Harvey, a singing superstar. Leave the ghaas-phoos to its own devices and come back home. :-)


          • So according to you I can be a Hindi film hero, a singer, a scriptwriter, a song-lyricist. Abhi sirf music director aur director hona reh gaya hai! :-D
            you are right, ghaas-phoos can grow without my aid as well.
            So shall I sing this to the ghaas-phoos?
            Without your pulling it, the tide comes in
            Without your twirling it, the earth can spin
            Without your pushing them, the clouds roll by,
            If they can do without you, ducky, so can I
            I shall not feel alone without you
            I can stand on my own without you

            But I surely can’t sing: there’ll be spring every year without you! ;-)


            • It’s a long time since I even thought of that song, Harvey – though it used to be among my favourites once! Thank you for reminding me. :-)

              But yes, where would spring be without the flowers? Spring is flowers, no? In any case, I’m thinking the ghaas-phoos won’t want you to leave them. They’ll probably all be singing “Phoolon ka, ‘floweron’ ka, sabka kehna hai, Ek hazaaron mein Harvey bhaiyya hain

              Sigh. Our loss.


  5. Hahahaha. THis is a great way of reviewing similar products.

    >. [which makes me wonder: were Hussain and Neels long-lost brother and sister?]

    LOL!! Remember reading Mills and Boon ( class 8 or so) :-/
    when I outgrew Enid Blyton and was floundering around for ‘favourite’ author/books…till I discovered the classics (especially Jane Austen).

    More than anything I was reading the rules with great relish, and then came the sub rules which added to the thrill. :-D

    My fear is that if some producer in Bombay discovers this review with neatly written rules (and sub rules no less) he will snap it up – and we’ll have you to blame for when they come up with NH like films (impossible in the current scene) doing the same things in Europe or America, and err…. lowering the standards set by NH.

    Asha Parekh and Shashi Kapoor would be reason enough for watching this film, I think.

    Thanks for this very entertaining, and a novel way of reviewing this film.


    • Thank you, pacifist! Glad you enjoyed that. When I was reviewing this film, I couldn’t help but think: my goodness, this story’s so much the same as in that film, and that film, and that one… it was déjà vu all the way. ;-)

      I would be very interested to see how a ‘with-it’ producer of today’s Hindi films would produce a film like this. They don’t do stuff like this, all that lost-and-found and coincidences galore, now, do they? The only new films I watch are the ones recommended by friends, and most of them are suspense or comedy, not other stuff. Wonder if something like this would succeed.


      • I don’t think the rules (and formula) will succeed today, what with Twitter, and FB and cell phones. I mean, how can anyone remain lost (even if they want to) in a world that has become increasingly public?


        • Arre, it will still succeed. See, if you got lost when you were a year old (that can be jazzed up; maybe your parents were holidaying in Greece or whatever, instead of being at the Kumbh ka Mela), and your adoptive parents – also Indian, of course – didn’t know who you were and named you Popatlal Jumritalaiyyawale or something, you’d go through life calling yourself Popatlal Jumritalaiyyawale, not Roop or Sunder or something equally smart (notice how Nasir Hussain’s lost heroes often have names referring to their looks?). Then you’d be Popat on FB, Twitter, etc. Getting your parents to sift away all that Popat business and get down to the real you would be tough.

          Trust me, Anu. There’s scope. All you need is imagination and a willing suspension of disbelief. ;-)


          • Nahin, yaar… can you imagine Popatlal Jhumritalaiyyawale remaining that on Twitter? He would be @PJ. And there isn’t a single director today who can pull off the madness necessary for such masala – they are all so deadly earnest in their ‘different’ offerings! (Farah Khan may be an exception, provided she keeps her silly husband from writing her script.) Even the ones who make such travesty of comedies such as Housefull! They are so focused on ‘Entertainment’ with a capital ‘E’ that they forget how to entertain!

            And everything will be slick and sharp and there will be some beautiful shots of Greece where the sea will look impossibly blue and the sands stark white and the hero and the heroine will look like Ken and Barbie instead of real people you can identify with! These guys really don’t know how to pull off masala – they keep trying to beat Hollywood at its game, and end up being <dhobhi ka kutta. The ‘soul’ of our movies is missing today.

            Our rich are in KJ land, with helicopters and designer clothes, and buffed bodies, and our ‘villagers’ are stick figures in designer chaniya cholis and perfectly matched accessories and false eyelashes that can stab a man at ten paces. (Atleast with the movies we love to watch, we only had to put up with Sharmila’s bird’s nest hairdo.)


            • “He would be @PJ.

              I doubt it. Who wants initials that can be expanded to ‘poor joke’? ;-) But yes, you’re right. Everything on the silver screen is so slick and sleek that the soul gets lost in transit, even when the movie in question is trying very hard to be all about soul. Come to think of it, would most of those who’ve only seen films from over the last 20 years even relish the charm of these old 50s and 60s movies, that could be so entertaining without being so sophisticated?


  6. Madhu, I laughed so much that I had to actually go back and read the parts I missed. :) Thank you so much for a review that is atleast as complicated and entertaining as NH films. Now I have to see Pyar ka Mausam again. Ni sultana re is a particular favourite. And SK the younger is always scrumpilicious.

    By the way, you also forgot one other rule (which is not restricted to NH films): If Nirupa Roy has a child, she *will* misplace said child somewhere in the film.. (This rule was first brought to my notice by bollyviewer.)


    • Thank you, Anu!

      I remembered bollyviewer’s rule about Nirupa Roy while I was writing this post. But I forgot to add it – thanks for doing that! (A rule, by the way, which I totally agree with. The films in which I’ve seen Nirupa Roy being a mum and not losing her child could be counted on the fingers of one hand). :-D


  7. I like this review very much. I was reminded of my high school math with all the rule #1,2,3 etc making their entrance. Rehash or not, you’ve convinced me to watch ‘Pyar ka Mausam’ once again. Well, I don’t need much convincing to watch Asha Parekh one more time.

    btw, how do you get all these still pics? Do you do a screen grab while the movie is running? Just curious.

    I really like this site. So much so that I can’t even name my favorite post!


    • Thanks so much, Lakshmi! I’m glad you liked this post. Coincidentally, I was reminded of mathematical equations while I was thinking over how to review Pyaar ka Mausam too. But I was never good at maths – so ditched the idea of trying to come up with equations to define each rule!

      I invariably watch films only on my laptop, rather than on my DVD player. On my laptop, I use VLC Media Player to play the movie. Then, wherever I need a screenshot, I simply pause the film and press Shift+S. It saves a smaller version of the frame (approximately the same size as you see in the post above). Alternately, if I’m watching a movie on Youtube (it happens occasionally), I use the Snipping Tool, which came installed on my laptop.


  8. Madhu, that review was just what I needed today. It brought a smile to my face after I returned from the funeral home, and you can imagine what my mental state would have been upon my return. Thank you for that wonderful review which stated all the rules for successfully rehashing movies by NH, and Harvey’s chaar ka ek stated it all so well!
    Btw, there was one important rule that you had overlooked – the lead pair WILL attend a college/picnic/party in some picturesque hill station, with tons of dahlias and bougainvilleas and roses to form the backdrop for the gorgeous songs.


    • Lalitha, I’m so happy this review was able to bring you some cheer! I hope you and your family are recovering from your loss. *many hugs*

      Hehe. Yes, you’re so right! Nobody seems to ever attend picnics/parties/college in boring, dusty plains towns. It’s always Kashmir, Himachal, the Nilgiris, Darjeeling or Mussoorie. ;-)


  9. Excellent review, I like the details of ‘rehashing’ in this one. Wasn’t that ‘nasty’ guy, son of Madan Puri, also the main villain of ‘Caravan’ ? What happened to him after that film? He seemed to be in the category of Vinod Khanna/Shotgun Sinha type of Villains those days, might have become a hero like them later on.
    Caravan was also the next film of NH after this. that reminded me of Aruna Irani, She was very underrated, probably has the most number of Gypsy/Banjara songs picturised on her in BW since the late 60s. (Also a better ‘mother’ than the weepy Rakhee,imo).
    I saw one of her films in a main roles recently called ‘Rani aur Jaani’ which reversed the usual masala rules. here the ‘hero’ has little screen time. the heroine(s) are lost and found,save the ‘hero’ from the villains,lol,etc. Aruna Irani is probably the only woman to bash up Shetty oncreen.


    • Thank you for the thumbs-up on the review, Chris! I was trying to remember where I’d seen Krishan Mehta before, and I think you’ve hit the nail on the head – yes, I’m pretty sure it was Caravan. I think there’s something rather louche about him (which I don’t find the case with Vinod Khanna), which might have gone against him in the race to graduate to being a hero from a villain.

      Caravan was loads of entertainment too (it’s been a long time since I saw it, though). And yes, Aruna Irani was good – I especially liked her in Dilbar dil se pyaare. I know I’ve seen her in some mum roles later, but don’t remember which. She generally seemed to have more backbone than some of the other filmi mothers, which makes me like her.

      Rani aur Jaani sounds delightful. I have a feeling Greta reviewed it on her blog. Off to see…


    • By the way. I checked out Rani aur Jaani on memsaabstory, but she hasn’t reviewed it. Todd (at Die Danger Die Die Kill) has, and it sounds completely whacked out. And the ‘heroine’ certainly merits the epithet (“plug ugly”) that Todd’s bestowed on her.


  10. Good review Dustedoff.

    I remember the movie mainly for its songs. I think it was one of those rare movies of Asha Parekh in the 60s that did average business. Otherwise she was considered very lucky for most of her heroes. Her other movies like “Aaya Sawan Jhoom Ke”, “Chirag” and “Saajan” released in the same year fared better.

    For Shashi Kapoor, I think it was a not-so-good uear. His other fare of the year “Ek Shriman Ek Shrimati” with Babita didn’t do well.


    • Thank you, Shashi – and yes, like you I too have remembered Pyaar ka Mausam only for its songs, not its story. I also agree with you about 1969 being a not-too-good year for Shashi Kapoor: besides Ek Shriman Ek Shrimati and this one, the other two films of his that were released – Jahan Pyaar Mile and Raja Saab – were both quite average.


  11. What a great start you have given to my morning! :) I giggled and snorted over your review with my morning cuppa, your rulebook is quite priceless :) I haven’t seen Pyaar Ka Mausam but I’ve been meaning to as I like its music. But I won’t be able to review it without thinking of your review, you’ll have to forgive my future plagiarism!! Great post, thank you!


    • I’m glad you enjoyed my review, Suja! I hope you enjoy the movie just as much – it’s very predictable, but fun too, in its own way. And the music, of course, is fabulous. Give it a try – and I must remember to keep an eye on your blog for whenever you decide to review it. (Pyaar ka Mausam is, by the way, just the sort of film to watch while going through a pile of ironing!)


  12. Dusted Off, Nasir Hussain’s films are lots of fun, even if they are entirely predictable. I get totally confused about which film is what, and end up watching each film several times. :) But not complaining. Your rules make delightful reading.


  13. Some more rules that NH followed–
    Always take Asha Parekh as the heroine; 2. Have at least one song in Panchgani/Mahabaleshwar; and latterly, also cast sundry nephews, one of whom went on to become a star. NH made box office hits till Caravan which bombed, but then bounced back with Yaadon ki Baraat (sans Asha) which is a film worth revisiting


    • I will add one thing to (2): that the song is filmed in Panchgani/Mahabaleshwar, even if the actual action is supposed to be happening elsewhere. Dil Deke Dekho, for instance, is set in Kumaon (Nainital and Ranikhet), but this song was filmed in Mahabaleshwar, according to Edwina Lyons, who appears briefly as one of the dancers here:

      I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve seen Yaadon ki Baaraat – such a landmark.

      P.S. Sidharth, I’ve managed to get hold of a film that I’d read about in your book and wanted to see. That will probably be the next film I review. :-)


  14. Excellent review. I always wondered why the film appeared familiar though I had no recollection of ever watching it.

    One other rule is appropriate : have excellent, but *excellent* music. Either Ni Sultana Re or Tum Bin Jaoon Kahaan alone would have ensured endless reruns of the movie… and the same is applicable I think to most of his movies.


    • One other rule is appropriate : have excellent, but *excellent* music.

      Absolutely true! Even if Nasir Hussain’s movies had nothing else (and I don’t agree with that), they had superb music.


  15. **Incidentally, Tum Bin Jaoon Kahan was referred to in our discussions at Shri AKji was for Kishore and I was for Rafi.
    **The lost-and-found plots with girls as the main characters ahve not meet with as much success {Seeta Aur Geeta}.
    **Nassir Hussain does desrve cudos for maintain the air of freshness even when he was repeating it 4th or 5th time. Wish our real cooks would know this secret and save the re-re-re-heated food from getting tasting stale.


    • I’ll side with you on the Rafi-Kishore Tum bin jaaoon kahaan debate. I prefer the Rafi versions.

      Didn’t Seeta aur Geeta do well? I thought it was quite a success. There are other lost-and-found films with women as the main characters (two with Sadhana – Woh Kaun Thi and Mera Saaya, and one with Sharmila – An Evening in Paris – that come immediately to mind) that I think fared pretty well at the box office. These films, though, did have much more than just the lost-and-found trope: they had great music, fairly good suspense plots, and highly popular male leads.


  16. The eye candy and the songs make this totally worth it. I agree with the others above who have talked of Nasir Hussein’s atypical ‘Baharon ke sapne’ (1967) flopping being perhaps the reason that he didn’t venture beyond his tried and tested formulae. But until 20 minutes before the end, what a film that was – the songs, the cinematography, the actors (leads and others), the pathos, really quite lovely.

    With regard to ‘Tum bin’ though I love all the versions in the film, I like the Bengali original ‘Ek din pakhi ure jabe je akashe’ (loosely ‘the bird is going to fly away some day’) the best. Kishore ‘acts’ out the song so beautifully in keeping with the lyrics.


  17. I want to add a bit about heroine’s friends, as a rule in most Hindi films the heroine’s friends – at home we usually referred to them as sakhiya,sakhiya- yes we used the word twice just like in the sakhiya songs- the friends I noticed used to always giggle for no reason at all, they obviously had a good sense of humour.Besides in those days it was not uncommon to see them singing a song along with the heroine riding a bicycle. 2 songs come to my mind one from Padosan

    and the other from Anari


    • Good one, Shilpi! Yes, the heroine always seemed to have lots of sakhis (and, oddly enough, they all seemed to conveniently disappear when the heroine most needed them – when she was in much emotional turmoil because her love life was in danger of being sabotaged). That rule reminded of two lovely songs, both from Phir Wohi Dil Laaya Hoon, in which the sakhis played a major part. The first is Aankhon se jo utri hai dil mein:

      And the second is Aji qibla mohtarma:


    • Thank you! Yes, I love this one too. :-) (Incidentally, another song with sakhis on cycles is Pukaarta chala hoon main:

      Mere Sanam is one of those movies that bear the stamp of Nasir Hussain without actually being one of his movies. It follows all his rules!)


  18. So great to be on here reading a post after a long sabbatical from the blogosphere ;) I like the sound of this, all that mayhem and complex melodrama you had down for things you don’t like are the very things i indulge in when watching all these melodramas. ‘Aya sawan jhoom ke’ comes to mind, Plus I’m loving Asha’s saree. Is it just me (well i hope not) but doesn’t Krishen mehta look a bit like Kabir Bedi


    • Good to have you back in the blogosphere, bollywooddeewana! :-)

      Oh, it’s not as if I don’t like all those ‘rules’. They may be pretty idiotic, but they still make for very entertaining films!

      Yes, it hadn’t struck me – Krishan Mehta does look quite like Kabir Bedi. I think it’s the broad upper face, plus something more… can’t figure out exactly what, right now.


  19. As for Pyaar Ka Mausam there was buzz in the industry about the song Tum Bin Jaaon Kahan, Kishore Kumar did the playback for Bharat Bhushan, you will notice the soft yodeling by Kishore during the music interludes, you will not find them in Mohammed Rafi’s version, the buzz was that Rafi was not able to do it so they just had the music, I, of course do not know how far that is true.


    • That’s interesting! Yes, I remember Kishore’s soft yodelling in the song’s interludes. Incidentally, your anecdote reminded me of something my father told me – in the 1952 film Shrimatiji, Kishore Kumar was required to yodel in a song, and wasn’t able to do it (he hadnt mastered the art till then). So a musician named Jimmy (who later also composed for some films) did the yodelling while Kishore sang.


  20. ROFL !!! This review has to be better than the film. Love most songs, I will try and see it if I can find it.
    I like several NH films, JPKHH, Caravan, YKB, Hum Kisise Kam Nahin


  21. @DustedOff – This was a nice review. I have often wandered off into your blog after picking up something from @Memsaab’s site but did not bother to comment in the past.

    Nasir Hussain truly was a master of the Lost and Found formula. I am not sure if you added a rule about the link song ( the signature song in this case) which is used to unite one of more members of the family that is lost. Tum Bin, Yadon Ki Baarat, Kya Hua Tera Vaada all fall in that category. In fact I feel it should be Rule #0.


    • Thank you for commenting, Faldo – and I’m glad you liked the review.

      Oh, yes. The signature song. That should definitely be one of the rules It once prompted a cousin of mine to say, “You know, all of us in the family should compose a song of our own and memorise it. What if we got lost? How will we find each other if we don’t have our song to sing?”

      I wonder, though, if Pyaar ka Mausam was the first film in which Nasir Hussain used that element – earlier lost-and-found films he made didn’t seem to have that signature song.


      • It does seem that Tum Bin.. might have been his first signature song (or link song as I prefer to call it as it is used for uniting families). It is not a uniform feature in all of Nasir’s films but then not each of them had characters who were separated during their childhood.


        • No, I know all of Nasir Hussain’s films didn’t have the ‘separated in childhood’ theme, but I was thinking of the films that did, when I made that comment. Films like Tumsa Nahin Dekha, Jab Pyaar Kisise Hota Hai, Dil Deke Dekho and Phir Wohi Dil Laaya Hoon had that ‘separated in childhood’ (not siblings, but child/parent, as in Pyaar ka Mausam), but it was only in Pyaar ka Mausam that he seems to have cottoned on to the idea that it could work as a means of reuniting lost ones.


              • Tahir hussain Aamir khans father. IMDb said he was a dancer but where yara. Could you please review and find it for me he is that handsome guy in dil deke Dekho and Jab pyar kisise hota hai. He is in pyar ka mausam can you please find him please!


                • May I make a suggestion? If you’re so keen, why don’t you watch the two films for yourself and see. I have neither the time nor the inclination. If it’s so important for you to know, the best thing would be for you to see the movies – I’m sure they’re both easily available on Youtube.


                  • If I could I would but don’t get me wrong you reviewed this film and are a regularlar viewer. I watched all three and I know from inside your fascinated by know that Aamir khans father is in pyar ka mausam. You review films and your doing a wonderful job and I’m a fan but you could kindly find it for me plz


              • Tahir Hussain Aamir khans father says on IMDb can you find the song in which he is in please review pyar ka mausam again and find him he is that handsome guy in dil deke dekho and jab pyar kisise hota hai


                • Couldn’t reply on your other comment because the thread is finished and WordPress won’t allow further comments on that.

                  I did not say I don’t like Nasir Husain films – far from it. I meant I don’t have the time to rewatch any films I don’t particularly like. Pyaar ka Mausam is one. It’s not a bad film, but it’s not as enjoyable as several other Nasir Husain films.


                  • Look it’s good you like em but I’m not saying review I’m saying go through it in a song which IMDb said that Tahir Hussain is in a dancer song which one? It’s a simple question it won’t take long and since you have more knowledge then me at films you could find it easily


                  • Can anyone tell me if I can find a rare hand painted poster of QAYAMAT se QAYAMAT TAK(1988) I don’t kinda like the poster that is on Wikipedia or on Google search. Please has anyone got one of the classic hand painted poster of Qsqt when it released please reply!!!


                    • You should try and approach people who specialize in collecting posters – SMM Ausaja is one person I can think of; he may be able to help. If you’re on Facebook, you can search for him there and get in touch.


  22. That tempo in the first screenshot of Jhatpat Singh – I swear I have not seen that particular contraption for over two decades!


    • I have seen something very similar in Western UP – it’s called (appropriately enough) the jugaad, though I think there’s also a variant known as the vikram. Basically a large tempo-auto thing but with extra seats added on and the sides mostly windows, so that lots of passengers can pile in and hang out.


      • I was under the impression that such tempos were now a thing of the past but I guess such models are still being used in hinterlands, though I wonder why: several goods carriers with more carrying capacity and fuel-efficiency are available today.

        Googling ‘Vikram tempo’ showed several images that are widely used as share rickshaws in semi-urban and rural areas (seats of jillas, talukas etc.). But the model visible in the screenshot was quite distinctive due to its sharp and narrow front end. To me, it used to resemble a bird of prey’s nose, back when I was a mere child.


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