One of Hindi cinema’s leading lyricists, and a stalwart poet in his own right (I cannot resist wondering if that shouldn’t be “in his own left”, given Shailendra’s socialist leanings!), Shailendra was born on this day a hundred years ago. I have written about him before, in this post to mark an earlier one of his birthdays. But, since I like Shailendra’s poetry so much, I could not let his birth centenary pass without a post dedicated to him. A list of Shailendra’s songs, therefore, that are in ten different moods. And, so that this post isn’t a repeat, even in a small way, of my earlier Shailendra post, none of the songs here are from my earlier post.
Continue readingAuthor Archives: dustedoff
Barjatri (1951)
Aka The Wedding Procession, though Hindi speakers will probably be able to relate to a more exact approximation of what barjatri means: baraati. The people who, at a wedding, accompany the bridegroom to the venue, invariably in great pomp and to be made much of. This delightfully funny film centres around a group of young men whose story begins just before all of them are to travel, as baraatis, for their friend’s wedding.
One of these is Ganesh ‘Gansha’ (Kali Bannerjee), who lives in his uncle’s home, and is unemployed. Uncle (?) has been pushing Ganesh to find a job, but Ganesh couldn’t be bothered. He would rather spend time sitting with his pals, chatting and smoking, all of them generally enjoying themselves.
Continue readingAmrapali (1966)
Happy birthday, Vyjyanthimala! (it’s either her 90th birthday or her 87th today, it doesn’t seem very clear which, but anyway).
Among the recent books I’ve read is Advait Kottary’s Siddhartha: The Boy Who Became the Buddha, a fictionalized retelling of the story of the Buddha. While Siddhartha is the focal point of the narrative, several other important historical personages appear in the book, among them the nagarvadhu or courtesan of Vaishali, Amrapali. Amrapali is shown to have originally had a relationship with the ruler of Magadha, Bimbisara: so much so that she bears him a son, whom she is later compelled by circumstances to hand over to the Buddha to bring up. Bimbisara’s belligerent and headstrong son and heir, Ajatshatru, though he’s never seen ‘his father’s courtesan’ (as Kottary describes her), detests Amrapali.
… until he, injured in a way with Vaishali, impersonates a Lichhavi (native to Vaishali) soldier in order to escape with his life. Fate brings Ajatshatru and Amrapali together: she, thinking him to be Lichhavi, tends to his wounds and heals him, and they fall in love.
It’s been ages since I watched the Vyjyanthimala-Sunil Dutt Amrapali, and while I remembered some of the core elements, I’d forgotten much of it. As far as I remembered, the film had nothing whatsoever about Amrapali’s relationship with Bimbisara or her having a son with him. To be honest, I’d have been very surprised if that aspect of her life had been shown: it would have been far too bold for Hindi cinema, back then, to have a heroine who could have affairs with both father and son, and bear a child out of wedlock.
So I decided it was time to rewatch Amrapali, which begins in Magadha. Here, the king, Ajatshatru (Sunil Dutt), is in conference with his trusted advisor, friend, and Magadha’s commander-in-chief, Veer (Premnath). Ajatshatru is a hot-headed warmonger, and right now baying for the blood of the democratic Lichhavis, whose land, Vaishali, lies across the river to the north.
Continue readingInsaniyat (1955)
This is one film that’s been on my to-watch list for several years now, mainly because it is the only film that stars both Dev Anand and Dilip Kumar. Also, as I’ve gathered from a few articles and posts I’ve read, this is also possibly the only film that doesn’t feature Dev Anand as a modern city slicker. He’s still somewhat of a sophisticate—by no means an illiterate rustic—but this is set in some undefined ‘raja-rani’ time period where Dev Anand spends all the film in something other than Western clothing.
But, to begin at the beginning. Zangoora (Jayant) is a nasty tyrant whose idea of ruling his kingdom is to be brutal with his subjects. Every now and then, his soldiers are sent out into the countryside to loot villages and bring back all that they can find. Zangoora’s troops are vile, uncaring, as brutal as their boss.
They’re at one village, upturning things, grabbing and snatching, when a furious village woman, Durga (Bina Rai) comes charging up. Durga lets fly at the man leading the troops, Bhanu Pratap (Dev Anand, his upper lip topped with a ridiculous moustache). Durga slaps Bhanu, and then proceeds to berate him for his mindless cruelty.
Continue readingSpring in Park Lane (1948)
PG Wodehouse is one of my top favourite writers. I’ve read most of his books, and I’ve explored some of his intersections with cinema: the films he was involved in, and the films that were based on his books. Of the latter, I’ve realized again and again, there seem to be very few that do anything close to justice to Wodehouse’s inimitable blend of humour. Some of the shorter TV films (like Heavy Weather, starring Peter O’Toole as the eccentric Lord Emsworth) or TV series like Jeeves and Bertie are good (though Jeeves and Bertie, after a few good episodes, went off the rails).
But now and then I come across a film that has nothing to do with Wodehouse, but seems somewhat like a homage. With the same light-hearted charm of the master, the same frothy humour that never fails to appeal to me.
As in Spring in Park Lane.
The film begins with Judy Howard (Anna Neagle) ringing the doorbell of her home in London, only to have the door opened by a complete stranger (Michael Wilding). Judy is surprised, and the conversation that ensues has both her and the man quite baffled. It’s only with a little perseverance, and some help from the butler Perkins (GH Mulcaster), who comes rushing up from below stairs, for the fog to clear. This man, Richard, is the new footman.
Continue readingMukesh in Ten Moods
Today is the birth centenary of one of Hindi film music’s greats: Mukesh Chand Mathur was born on July 22, 1923, in Delhi. In a far too short lifetime (he died in 1976, before his fifty-third birthday) Mukesh sang playback for many of Hindi cinema’s most popular songs. He was Raj Kapoor’s ‘voice’, known and loved not just in India but in countries far and wide, from the Soviet Union to Turkey.
Introduced to the film industry by Motilal, who was a relative, Mukesh’s first hit song ended up being for Motilal himself: Dil jalta hai toh jalne de in Pehli Nazar (1945). He had already debuted four years earlier, with the song Dil hi bujha hua toh from Nirdosh (1941), the film which also marked Mukesh’s debut as an actor.
Continue readingOperation Y and Shurik’s Other Adventures (1965)
Or, to give it its original Russian title, Operatsiya Y I Drugie Priklyuchenia Shurik.
And, before you get intimidated by that rather ponderous title, a little carrot that I will dangle: this is a movie that’s recommended for those times when you’re feeling drained and overworked and your brain needs time off. It happens to me every now and then, when trying to relax by watching a film is not enough; the film too has to be something that I don’t need to think about: a film that I can just sit back and enjoy. This is that film.
Operation Y (which is how I will refer to it; the entire title is just too long) is about the eponymous Shurik (Aleksandr Demyanenko), a young college student at a polytechnic institute. In his spare time, Shurik works at a construction site; otherwise he’s a nerdy, earnest student, so focused on his studies that he mostly cannot see beyond his books…
Continue readingZabak (1961)
Zabak is a film I’ve been wanting to watch for a while, mostly for Shyama. I like Shyama a lot, and as far as I know, this is one of the rare colour films in which she acted as a lead. Plus, given my penchant for raja-rani films, I thought this might be worth a try.
Zabak (Mahipal) is the son of a healer and hamaam owner named Hassan Shah Isfahani (?). Hassan Shah is much acclaimed as a man who knows his medicine, and everybody around, from the Haakim (the Lord) of Isfahan to the man in the street, comes to him for relief from a variety of ailments. Zabak is a happy-go-lucky sort, spending his time joking around town, and romancing Zainab (Shyama), the daughter of the Lord of Isfahan.
Continue readingThe LO Goes to Himachal, Part 3: Beyond the Mall in Shimla
Most tourists seem to focus on the Mall and the Ridge, but there’s plenty to see beyond that as well. While I covered our forays along the Mall in Part 2 of this set of travelogues, here I’ll be describing something of what we experienced beyond the Mall.
My husband and I last visited Shimla in 2008, and one attraction I had especially fond memories of from back then was the Viceregal Lodge. Built as the residence of the Viceroy, the Viceregal Lodge was completed in 1888, built in a Scottish Baronial style. After independence, it was renamed Rashtrapati Nivas, and today it houses the Indian Institute of Advanced Studies, where scholars in the humanities can come for research and study.
Continue readingThe LO Goes to Himachal, Part 2: The Mall in Shimla
(For Part 1 of this travelogue, click here).
On Day 3 of our Himachal trip, we left Kasauli and drove up (with an abortive detour at Arki, as described in Part 1) to Shimla. At Shimla, we were booked to stay at The Oberoi Cecil, a hotel with a history to it. The spot where the Cecil now stands was once a home (Tendril Cottage) where Rudyard Kipling stayed while visiting Shimla in 1885. Three years later that home was torn down and another building came up in its stead. In 1902, this building was expanded, refurbished, and turned into a hotel: The Cecil, which—in 1944—was acquired by the hotelier MS Oberoi.
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