Ten of my favourite Shashikala songs

RIP, Shashikala.

It came as a shock to me to learn that Shashikala had passed away on the 4th of April, 2021. She was 88 years old, so a ripe old age, yes; but there was something so alive and vibrant about Shashikala even in her old age that I never actually realized how old she was. I would see photos and videos of hers in recent times, her brilliant silver hair stylishly cut, that trademark smile like a 1000-watt bulb. She was not one of those reclusive actresses who go into their shells and disappear after they retire; no. Shashikala always seemed so alive.

In her cinema, too.

Shashikala in Jeevan Jyoti

Beginning as an extra in the late 40s, Shashikala graduated to bigger roles, including several as heroine (Aab-e-Hayat is one that’s been reviewed on this blog). Through the 50s and 60s, she moved on to a more varied lot of roles. On the one hand, she was the sympathetic sister (Sujata) or the encouraging friend (Anupama); on the other, she was the vamp, the villain’s girl with a pretty criminal mind of her own (Nau Do Gyarah). Somewhere along the way, the vamp roles began metamorphosing into those of the shrew, the mean, selfish woman out to get the hero for herself, even though she didn’t really love him, only his wealth (Chhoti Si Mulaqat, Hariyali aur Raasta). Later still, in the 70s, she became the sort of harridan Lalita Pawar was also so good at playing: the nasty, shrieking older woman (usually a mother-in-law, sometimes a sister-in-law) who makes life miserable for the gentle Sati Savitri heroine who falls into her hands. Not a nice woman.

And how well Shashikala played each of those roles. How much she made me hate her and long for her comeuppance. Yet, how she made me laugh. Or want to hug her for standing up for the timid Uma of Anupama (so what if she could be a bit exasperatingly cheerful too). Or make me wish I could shimmy like that…

You will be missed, Shashikala. But your films will live on.

In memory, therefore, a list of ten of my favourite songs in which Shashikala lip-syncs to the song. These could be solos or duets, but the main criterion I’ve chosen is that Shashikala gets to ‘sing’. As always, these are all from pre-70s Hindi films that I’ve seen. Also, no two songs are from the same film. In no particular order:

1. Kya ho phir jo din rangeela ho (Nau Do Gyarah, 1957): A very young Helen, from her pre-Mera naam Chin Chin Choo days, features in this song, but for me the dancer who actually rules it is Shashikala. With that long cigarette holder and cigarette tin, the dress flaring out about her hips, and Geeta Dutt’s sultry voice singing playback for her, Shashikala is oomph personified here. As the club dancer Neeta in Nau Do Gyarah, she got to lip-sync to a couple of other songs (Jaan-e-jigar haai haai and the tense See le zubaan), but it’s with her introductory song, Kya ho phir jo din rangeela ho, that Shashikala scores her biggest hit in this film.  

2. Yeh raaste hain pyaar ke (Yeh Raaste Hain Pyaar Ke, 1963): At a poolside party, a woman watches as her lover, attracted by another woman, wanders off. Hurt and resentful, she sings of her pain, but addresses it also to the two people she sees before her, dancing, talking intimately, obviously enjoying each other’s company—and stepping every moment closer to adultery. She looks on, her song talking of the perils that lie in wait for those who walk down the path of love. Or of forbidden love, really. I love the expressions on Shashikala’s face: she’s hurt, yes; but there’s something also wistful about her, as if she dreads what lies ahead for her (now ex) lover.

Yeh raaste hain pyaar ke, from Yeh Raaste Hain Pyaar Ke

3. Bheegi-bheegi fazaan (Anupama, 1966): A timid and lonely young woman has always been treated in a strange, tumultuous fashion by her father, who both blames his daughter for having caused the death of his wife (who died in childbirth) and who loves her too. Repressed and emotionally bereft, Uma seems utterly alone—but besides the poet who falls in love with her (played by Dharmendra), there is the young woman (Shashikala) who, with her verve and her outgoing nature, helps Uma assert herself. Yes, Anita ‘Annie’ is a bit too boisterous, but all said and done, she is a ray of sunshine in a home that can get very dark indeed. It’s obvious in this song, too, where while her friends settle down for a picnic, Annie wanders about, singing about the beauty of nature. Her joy and enthusiasm is so infectious, that the others end up watching her, unable to take their eyes off her.  

Bheegi-bheegi fazaan, from Anupama

4. Zindagi mein pyaar karna seekh le (Phool aur Patthar, 1966): Shashikala acted with Dharmendra in a slew of films, including Devar, where she acted as his wife. In Phool aur Patthar, though, as Rita, she was a dancer, a woman of the criminal underworld to which Shaaka (Dharmendra) belongs. In Sheeshe se pee ya paimaane se pee, she got to seduce Shaaka; and in Zindagi mein pyaar karna seekh le, she got to perform a pretty standard ‘cabaret’ song. The nonsense words of the refrain are an obvious distortion of the Brazilian Portuguese lyrics of the song (Andorinha preta) of which Zindagi mein pyaar karna seekh le is a copy. The platinum blonde wig Shashikala sports here is not flattering, but I like the song, and the way her expression changes—from the professional dancer, smiling to please the crowd, to the woman whose face lights up because the man she loves has arrived—is lovely. Still a bright smile, but the eyes change completely.

Zindagi mein pyaar karna seekh le, from Phool aur Patthar

5. Nain tumhaare mazedaar (Junglee, 1961): Your average 60s film had, as the hero’s sidekick/friend, Mehmood (invariably teamed with Shubha Khote) or Rajendranath, perhaps with Helen or Laxmi Chhaya. Shashikala did not often appear in that role. But in Junglee (which remains one of my favourite films), she is both Anoop Kumar’s love interest as well as Shammi Kapoor’s sister. The effervescent Mala first appears sneaking out of home to meet her lover, and this defiance of her strict mother’s and brother’s illogical and stifling dictates makes Mala, from the beginning, such a likeable character. In a family that’s lost its humanity under the weight of its perceived ‘honour’, Mala is the bright spark.

And the brightness shines even brighter in this delightful song, where Mala and Jeevan express their love for each other. Fun, joyous, affectionate.

Nain tumhaare mazedaar, from Junglee

6. Bachpan ke din bhi kya din thhe (Sujata, 1959): Some of Shashikala’s most sympathetic roles she owed to Bengali directors. If she was the Annie of Hrishikesh Mukherjee’s Anupama and the Mala of Subodh Mukherji’s Junglee, she was also the Rama of Bimal Roy’s Sujata. A pampered young woman, the much-loved daughter of well-off, high caste parents. But Rama’s wealth and her privileged position do not make her the snobbish evil foster-sister of the untouchable Sujata (Nutan). Far from it; she’s a friend to Sujata; she doesn’t see her as an outsider, but as a sister. And in this song, while the roles of the two young women are clearly defined (while Rama plays the piano and prances about dreamily, Sujata attends to the laundry), their voices meld together beautifully to sing a song about the childhood they’ve left behind. Carefree, happy childhood, gone forever and still longed for.

Bachpan ke din bhi kya din thhe, from Sujata

7. Ik jaan meri aur laakh sitam (Aab-e-Hayat, 1955): This adventure-filled fantasy film was one of Shashikala’s main roles as a leading lady. Here, she was paired with Premnath, whose character spends most of the film being wooed by fairies, threatened by monsters and magical creatures, and basically in high-adventure mode. His lady love, the princess Shahzaad, having spent the first few minutes of the film establishing herself as a feisty, strong-willed woman, then unfortunately spends the rest mourning the loss of her beloved, who’s gone off on these adventures all by herself…

While Shashikala did have some good songs to lip-sync to in Aab-e-Hayat, my favourite is this one. Ik jaan meri aur laakh sitam, where she grieves for her lost love. Fairly standard ‘sad song’, but I especially like the music of this one.

Ik jaan meri aur laakh sitam, from Aab-e-Hayat

8. Tu mera jo nahin (Bheegi Raat, 1965): Another song with Shashikala beside a swimming pool. But Tu mera jo nahin is a far cry from Yeh raaste hain pyaar ke, even though both songs are sung by a woman bemoaning the fact that the man she is in love with is in love with another. But while there’s wistfulness and pain in Yeh raaste hain pyaar ke, in Tu mera jo nahin, Shashikala’s character is pretty blasé about it. He may not love her, but she’s confident of her own ability to someday win him over: she’s the flame to which the moth will be attracted, sooner or later. Let him go where he will; she knows he’ll be back. So much pep and such an infectious beat to this song, and how much sass Shashikala shows off.

Tu mera jo nahin, from Bheegi Raat

9. Chaand ghatne laga raat dhalne lagi (Shart, 1954): Na yeh chaand hoga na taare rahenge was the more popular song from Shart, but another (also very good) song about the moon was picturized on Shashikala. As the lead performer and onstage singer, Shashikala lip-syncs here to a light, frothy number about love in the moonlight. She doesn’t get to do very much in the way of dancing, besides moving her arms about a bit and swaying, but the song is a lovely one.

Chaand ghatne laga, from Shart

10. Na baaz aaya muqaddar mujhe mitaane se (Sunehre Kadam, 1966): And, to end, a little-known song from a little-known film. Sunehre Kadam was, from what I can gather, not released: or at least released in a very limited way. I can imagine why it may have sunk into oblivion; in a time of vivid colour, this was a black and white film. In a day when Dev Anand, Dharmendra, Shashi Kapoor, Sunil Dutt and the like were the male stars, Sunehre Kadam starred Rehman, and a Rehman too who was past his prime. Plus Shashikala, all said and done, was by that time, really not the standard leading lady for most filmgoers.  

It’s a shame, really, because this was one of Shashikala’s better roles, one which allowed her to show off just how good she was as an actress, and how versatile. Plus, she got some nice songs to lip-sync to, of which this one, of despair and woe, is my favourite from this film.

Which are your favourite Shashikala songs?

54 thoughts on “Ten of my favourite Shashikala songs

  1. Thank you for this journey down memory lane.
    Shashikala aged well and she looked good till the end but she was really stunning in her earlier films.
    My favourite movie of hers was Junglee. Where she played Shammi Kapoor’s sister with the right mixture of youthful bubbliness, warmth, rebelliousness and fear.
    That’s one character you could ‘feel’.
    RIP Shashi Tai.

    Like

    • I agree completely about her character in Junglee; she was really good, the way she didn’t allow her stern brother and mother to suppress her ebullience. Actually, I loved both the younger female characters in that film, Saira Banu’s Raj as well – both had a lot of spine.

      Like

  2. Yes.. saddening this is, although she lived her life..
    I was reading Mohan Agashe’s tribute where he said that she did not really get her due and I feel there may have been a sliver of truth there.
    Getting slotted as the harridan was a tough mould to break out of and I feel we lost out on some better, nuanced performances from her.
    Anyhow, here is a song from Khoobsurat, where the first 2 minutes is devoted to Shashikala ..

    Like

    • I agree with that, that she didn’t get her due. She got slotted too quickly into unsympathetic roles, no matter of which type, and they didn’t let her show what she was capable of. That’s why a film like Sunehre Kadam, even though not a great film by any standard, is important, because it gives us a glimpse of what Shashikala could do, given an interesting character to portray.

      Love Piya baawri! Thank you for that. :-)

      Like

  3. Oh, I loved Shashikala – she was so often the brightest spot in a movie. The songs you’ve selected showcase the variety of roles she played in her long and hopefully satisfying career.

    Here are a few more that I really like.

    Mere piya chhede jiya – Chacha Chowdhury/Madan Mohan/Asha Bhonsle/Rajendra Krishen

    One of my favorite early Shammi movies featured Shashikala as his leading lady. Fun movie with lovely songs, including this one.
    Dil ke badle dil loongi – Daku/Snehal Bhatkar/Asha Bhonsle-Mukesh

    Nikolasa nikolasa mere sang jhoom – Bedaag/Roshan/Asha Bhonsle/Shakeel

    Like

    • What a great set of songs. I know and love the first song, but had no idea it was picturized on Shashikala.
      I did not know the second song at all, so thanks for introducing me to it – one thing that stood out for me was in the last antara – where she manages to go from an angry to soft expression within just a couple of notes – and does it very beautifully.
      The third song again I knew, but not the picturization. What stood out was the choreography, which did capture the rhythm and beauty of the song. Not my favorite of hers cause her “dancing” just does not match up to the rest of the dancers. But still enjoyable.

      Like

    • Thank you for these songs, Shalini! I was familiar with Nikolasa nikolasa, but not the other two. Loved them too. And I really, really want to watch Daaku now. It sounds right up my street.

      Like

  4. She was so good at being bad, wasn’t she? When I was a wee child, I used to love to hate her and Lalita Pawar (both fine actresses, by the way). Sad to hear about her demise.

    I woke up to news of her passing and wondered if I should do a ‘songs’ post on her, but it would have mirrored yours. :) But more than the songs, I loved your tribute to her, Madhu.

    Like

    • Thank you so much, Anu. Glad you liked this post.

      “She was so good at being bad, wasn’t she?

      So true! She was really good at it – whether as the vamp or the mean saas, she made you want her to get her comeuppance in a way not many other actresses could do. Those were the sort of roles in which I first saw her, so I was very taken aback when I encountered her in a sympathetic role. Taken aback, but finally impressed too.

      Like

      • Offhand, I can’t think of any films where they’ve appeared as mother and daughter, but I do recall them in films together. In Nau Do Gyarahi;, for instance. Also, if I remember correctly, in Apne Hue Paraaye.

        Like

  5. I have always had a liking for the heroines that have played secondary roles in films – especially when they have managed to stand out in that capacity in film after film after film. Highest on that list for me is Helen – but right up there with her is Shashikala (along with Aruna Irani). If I had to pull together a list of songs of hers, it would look very similar to the list that you have – with the addition of “PIya baawri” from “Khoobsoorat” which I am very fond of – though probably not within the timeframe you pick from. However, there is one song that would have been high on my list – from a fairly obscure film called “Surang”. The film was released in 1953, which means Shashikala was just about 20 years old at the time. I liked this song a lot, but was most impressed by how well she mimics playing the “instrument”

    In the late 70s, early 80s she did a couple of interesting roles – in Biwi o Biwi as a woman who is over-the-top in love with I believe Sanjeev Kumar’s character. I remember little about the movie, but I remember her. Another role of hers that I vaguely recall was a witch-type in the mystery film “Phir Wohi Raat”. While both films are probably quite forgettable, she stands out.
    Grand lady of Hindi cinema and among the last of that generation. Thanks for this tribute to her.

    Like

    • Thank you so much for this song! I had never heard it before. And while I liked the song itself a lot, like you, I am very impressed with the way she is able to imitate the ‘instrument’ – very realistic.

      I think Biwi O Biwi was that film with Randhir Kapoor? Or some other younger man, wanting to marry a girl whose father was played by Sanjeev Kumar? I remember thinking it was very funny; must watch it again. Phir Wohi Raat I haven’t seen.

      True, she did stand out.

      Like

  6. Yes, it was a shock to come to know about Shashikala. I don’t know exactly when I started getting interested in the roles she played in Hindi films, but she was indeed a fine actress.
    Liked majority of the songs on the list,
    Would like to add,
    Mila Gaye Nain

    Was it her first Hindi film, Aarzoo?
    And,
    Chah karni thi from Punarmilan

    It seems she was a supporting actress in the movie.

    RIP Shashikala

    Like

  7. By a curious coincidence, when the news came in yesterday, I had just finished watching “Chhoti Bahu” and was Shashikala a scene-stealer as the trouble-maker sister-in-law! One of her best performances. Though she got her comeuppance in the end, being beaten be her till then hen-pecked husband, I.S. Johar, I wish somebody had beaten up the heroine Sharmila Tagore too who was shrewish without being entertaining, unlike Shashikala.

    Like

    • I agree about Sharmila Tagore’s character being shrewish without being entertaining in Chhoti Bahu. She was so irritating! I remember, the last time I tried to rewatch that film (I had last seen it when I was a child), I gave up pretty soon. But Shashikala, I agree, is brilliant in that – such a shrew.

      Like

  8. A heartfelt tribute to a lovely actress, Madhuji! Here is a link that gives quite a bit of information about her.
    https://www.cinemaazi.com/feature/kyon-mujhe-itni-khushi-de-di-shashikala

    The song that I would want to contribute is Ai Bewafa Yeh to Bata (Captain Kishore, 1957) Lyricist: Tanvir Naqvi; Music Director : Chitragupt; Playback Singer: Geeta Dutt. It is a lesser known song of Shashikala’s that I came across recently. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TAfXfCMBaKU

    I also loved her acting in Gumraah(1963). She really did a good job as a blackmailer in the movie

    Like

  9. Madhu, unlike with many of your other posts, I seem to have missed most of these Shashikala songs and films. I have been aware of the delightful Sujata song for a while (more because of Nutan), but I haven’t seen that whole film yet, either (though it’s long been high on my list). I have seen many praises of Shashikala and she is delightful in the dances of hers that I have watched (such as the one in Phool aur Patthar), so I really do want to catch up. There are still a few more songs in this post that I need to get to, and I’m looking forward to that.

    But I am very familiar with (and fond of) one Shashikala song sequence that neither you nor anybody else is mentioning… It’s her song from Jugnu, with playback by the great classical singer Roshan Ara Begum. Shashikala was 13 years old when she did this, and it’s a real classic!

    If I really want to catch up on Shashikala movies, it’s going to take a while; apparently, she did get the chance to work in Hindi films for a long, long time. RIP, Shashikala.

    Like

    • Wow. I haven’t seen Jugnu and hadn’t come across Desh ki purkaif rangeen before either. It’s certainly a classic – Shashikala is wonderful, even though she’s so young. Thank you so much for this one, Richard.

      Lots of great films, actually, in which she appeared. And she appears in one of my favourite cameos: as a dancer (she doesn’t sing, just dances) in this superb qawwali from Dharmputra, Mere dilbar mujhpar khafa na ho:

      Like

      • I guess it took me a few days to get back to this :) , but you’re welcome, Madhu. I’m happy that I was able to introduce you to a Shashikala scene that you had not seen before and you agree that she is wonderful in that.

        And thank you posting that qawwali scene Dharmputra. So I guess she was in more than one good qawwali scene over the years :) . Yes, that is a very nice dance!

        Like

  10. That blond wig is a hoot. What a fun song.

    I’m not an expert in her movies, but I do know her as such a fun actress, with so much personality. The sister relationship is one of my favourite things about Sujata. Most movies would pit the sisters against each other, and it’s so great to see the other choice. And she plays it so well. Very sad to see she is gone.

    Like

    • “Most movies would pit the sisters against each other, and it’s so great to see the other choice.

      Very true. I loved that she is so real, in that way. And Shashikala did play that role really well.

      That blonde wig is certainly a hoot! I must watch Phool aur Patthar again – it’s been too long since I saw it, I’ve forgotten most of it.

      Like

  11. Madhu,
    Very apt tribute to one of the most lasting actors. Like Richard I, too, didn’t know most of the songs you have mentioned. One of the most famous songs she is seen in is ‘Aahein na bharin shikwe na kiye’ from ‘Zeenat’ (1945).

    AK

    Like

      • Yes, this qawwali scene is great. Maybe some of us who didn’t see so many Shashikala films still know her earliest performances from being Noor Jehan fans? :)

        In Wikipedia, it says that Shashikala first got into films in Bombay by meeting Noor Jehan, which led to Noor Jehan’s husband, director Syed Shaukat Hussain Rizvi, making a place for her in Zeenat – and, of course, later he placed her in that scene in Jugnu (which must have been her first solo performance).

        Oddly, though, Wikipedia also says she was in a film called Karodpati, made by New Theatres in 1936. Did she act in this at the age of 3 or 4? Wikipedia and a few sources I saw said that she was performing at age 5, but that was on stage and in Maharashtra. And every other indication I see points to the scene in Zeenat being her film debut. (Probably there was someone else named Shashikala in that earlier film. :) )

        Like

          • Thank you for pointing that out, Madhu. That makes sense. So it’s not that there was another Shashikala in 1936, but another Karodpati, and the Karodpati that Shashikala was part of was made in 1961 – but, wait, it wasn’t entitled Karodpati; it was Krorepati.

            I saw that first at IMDb. It lists a Karodpati from 1936 and one from 1997, but the 1961 film is listed as Krorepati. I checked on YouTube, and I saw that it is also listed as Krorepati in most of the related song videos (though not all of them); then I watched the credits at the beginning of a full copy of the film, and that’s how it’s listed there, too. So, I guess the Cinemaazi article isn’t entirely accurate – unless there were two different versions of the film released, with the title listed in different ways. But wait a minute, shouldn’t “Krorepati” have been spelled “Crorepati”? :)

            Like

            • Richard, I think the problem arises because of the transliteration from Hindustani to English. Unlike (say) in Korean or Chinese, there is no standard format that is universally followed (well, there is a standard format, but very few people – mostly only academics – follow it). Everybody simply transliterates it into what is called ‘Roman Urdu’ and finds a spelling that suits them best. So Krorepati or Karodpati or Crorepati would actually all be perfectly acceptable spellings of the same Hindustani word (personally I am inclined towards Karodpati – that’s the closest to the way the word is pronounced; the second r is really closer to a d).

              Like

              • Yes, of course – I know about differently spelled transliterations (we’ve talked about them before), and I figured that this was the source of the problem. But to me, “karod” and “krore” (or “crore”) looked more different from each other than the usual. And “crore” is actually listed in reference sources as an “English” word taken from the Hindi word “karod.” I glimpsed a few different references that spelled the “English” word “crore” consistently, but at least one gave a few alternate spellings for the Hindi word “karod.” :)

                Anyway, if the title of a Hindi film is provided in Roman/Latin letters in the film credits (which is pretty standard, I guess), I think it’s really best just to follow the spelling given in the credits.

                And, Madhu, you said that only academics follow the standard format… But keep in mind that I am even worse about these things than an academic, because I’ve earned most of my living for decades as an English-language proofreader. :)

                Like

  12. The news of Shashikala’s demise came as a shock to me despite her ripe old age. She got vampish roles though she was very much a heroine material. The height of my fondness for her is that I liked her acting the most among several stars in the movie Rakht (2004) in which she has played the granny of Bipasha Basu. Your post is invaluable and contains some of my favourite songs.

    Like

  13. Thank you for the lovely post. Shashikala was a wonderful actress and I liked her.The first song that comes to mind when I think of her is “Sheeshe se pee..”

    Here’s a very young Shashikala… Chali Radha Piya Dhundan ko

    Like

  14. My favourite Shashikala song is from Jugnu— the wonderful Des ki Purkaif rangeen thi fizaaon mein kabhi— where she dances as Dilip and NJ watch. I remember— a long time back, maybe in 2001– there was this website which carried an interview about how she’d been selected to act in Zeenat because of how similar she looked to NJ, but because she didn’t know a word of Urdu, she got 25 rs for the Qawaali in the fllm, but had to learn it for Jugnu.

    Like

  15. Thanks for a great post! Love these two songs of Shashikala – rare ‘mujra’ style from Patrani and the very hummable song with a young looking Helen from Nau do gyarah.

    Like

    • I had never heard (or seen) Kabhi toh aa before. Lovely song, and I love Shashikala’s dancing as well as her look in it. Something reminiscent of Mohe panghat pe Nandlal there…

      Like

  16. Great tribute, indeed. One of the songs where she featured prominently was from the movie Waqt (Aage bhi jaane na tu….), though she was not the one singing it.

    To Hrishikesh Mukherji goes the credit of casting her in positive roles, like in Anupama, and Abhimaan. B R Chopra capitalized on her negative vibes so very well in Gumrah. A versatile actress.

    Like

  17. An excellent tribute to a lively and vivacious personality and actress!!
    And a nice list of songs – Songs 1-4 are my all-time favorites of Shashikala while the Sunehre Kadam song was new. She rocked the Nau Do Gyarah song despite Helen!!
    Irrespective of the length and depth of her roles, Shashikala ensured that her characters stood out and were often the most interesting part of the movie. Her cameo role in Waqt is still remembered despite the formidable main star cast.

    I have always enjoyed her negative roles of the 60s, often preferring her over the docile and too-good-to-be-true heroine. In fact, in films such as Gumrah, Aarti and Bheegi Raat, her characters had depth and a definite arc which made them acceptable and believable.
    While watching Pyar Mohabbat (1966), I had actually looked forward to her entry as the Dev-Saira pair hardly made any impact and I found the movie boring. She did a good job here too, even though her character was sketchy.

    Here, I would like to add couple of songs that have not been mentioned before.

    An enjoyable song from Teen Bahuraniyan, in which she played a famous film actress who arrival next-door creates chaos in a joint family. She played her part with aplomb and style – Aa sapnon ki rani

    Another one is from Batwara 1961.where she played a doting mother and selfish daughter-in-law who supports her husband in the partition of the house.- Munna taaron ka raja

    Like

    • Thank you so much for that insightful and interesting comment. I agree that Shashikala as the shrew or the vamp was often much more interesting a character than the docile, ‘good’ heroine.

      Thank you also for the songs – Aa sapnon ki rani had been mentioned (not on this blog post, but elsewhere) to me by someone else too, and I loved it. I really must watch Teen Bahuraniyan one of these days – and Batwara; I hadn’t known Shashikala was in that one.

      Like

  18. There was a comment as to whether Lalita Pawar and Shashikala played mother-daughter duo in any movie.
    Well, they did in Bedaag 1965. Both the characters were negative, with the mother being more manipulative than the daughter.

    Like

  19. While working on my one of the regular posts in March 2021, I landed upon Masti Bhari Bahar Ne Masatana Kar Diya (Pugree (1948) – Shamashad Begum – Ghulam Mohammad – Shakeel Badayuni).

    How vivacious and beautiful Shashikala looks. The fate was indeed very unfavorable to her to force her into negative roles, which she did perform with as great aplomb.

    Like

Leave a comment

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.