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.
Tag Archives: Bollywood
Dil Deke Dekho (1959)
Dil Deke Dekho isn’t quite the perfect film I’d like to make it out to be.
(a) The story isn’t exactly original (Nasir Hussain had already used it in Tumsa Nahin Dekha. He also went on to use it in Jab Pyaar Kisi se Hota Hai and Phir Wohi Dil Laaya Hoon, but that can’t be laid at the doorstep of Dil Deke Dekho).
(b) The plot is too complicated, relies too heavily on convenient coincidences, and has some unbelievable – and often unclear – motives.
(c) The lead actress, Asha Parekh (just 16 years old), though pretty as a picture, isn’t a terribly good actress at this stage of her career.
On the other hand: the film stars Shammi Kapoor.
Edwina (Part 4): Dancing
Sadly, all good things must come to an end. So, with a heavy heart, I’m having to publish this post: the last of the four-part guest posts on Edwina Lyons, written by Edwina, along with Tom Daniel. If you haven’t yet read the earlier posts, click here for the first (a mini biography), here for the second (on the actors, actresses and choreographers Edwina worked with) and here for the third, about Edwina’s fellow dancers. As in the earlier posts, in this one too Edwina’s writing is formatted in black, while Tom’s words are in blue. Over to Tom:
After three preparatory articles, we finally get to the heart of the matter – what it was like to film these movie dances fifty years ago. What was the process and how was the life of a young female dancer? Some of what will be covered in this article were among Edwina’s earliest writings to me, because these are the things about which I wanted to know the most. This early material was also later supplemented by telephone conversations which I rewrote in my own words. Ultimately, though, it all comes from Edwina.
Edwina (Part 3): Her Fellow Dancers
Tom and Edwina’s fabulous guest posts on Edwina’s career as a dancer in the Hindi film industry of the 50s and 60s: part 3, about the people whom Edwina danced with. If you haven’t already read the first two posts, click here to read post 1 (a short biography of Edwina) and here for Edwina’s reminiscences on the actors, actresses and choreographers of Hindi cinema’s Golden Age.
(As before, Tom’s words in this article are formatted in blue; Edwina’s words remain in black). Over to Tom:
In this article we’ll get to know the people with whom Edwina worked, we’ll see what they looked like, and we’ll view videos that feature each of them. If you enjoy the films of the 1950’s and 60’s, then you’ve seen these people before. By now you should already be able to pick Edwina out from the crowd. By the time this article is done you should also be able to do the same for such people as Oscar, Pamela, Herman, Teresa, and many others. These are the people that livened up the dances and made them ‘zing’. Without them the dances wouldn’t have been nearly as successful as they were. In addition to being in the songs and dances, they often were also used in a dance setting where there might not be a song associated with it, but the plot was being developed. I’m referring to dances set in clubs and homes where Edwina’s group provided the background to the hero meeting the heroine, or maybe where some nefarious plot was being hatched.
Edwina (Part 2): A Cast of Characters
Continuing from where we left off in the last post: the second instalment of the four-part guest posts by Tom Daniel and Edwina Lyons about Edwina’s life in the Hindi film industry of the late 50s and the 60s… (as before, Tom’s writing is in blue, Edwina’s in regular black font).
Where the first article was about Edwina’s life so far, this one and the next will cover the people she encountered during her nearly ten year career in the movies. Of course, the first thing I wanted to know when I began asking questions was what she could tell me of the famous stars with whom she danced. In spite of my frequent requests, she refused to make anything up just to suit me and always said that she didn’t know anyone. Apparently there was a very real hierarchy within the movie business and stars didn’t mingle much with dancers and dancers didn’t mingle much with extras. In addition, our convent educated young miss (and later mrs.) was painfully shy and never dared push herself on anyone, famous or not. So this first part will consist mostly of random observations she gave me when I asked about various well known stars after seeing her in dances with them.
Edwina: A Short Biography (Part 1)
A few months back, I got an e-mail from Tom Daniel, the man who’s been the brains, the initiative and most of the work behind some of the most wonderful song compilations I’ve come across, ever. Tom wondered if I would like to host a series of guest posts about Edwina Lyons, the dancer who was there, smiling and pretty, in so many films from the 60s.
I leaped at the offer, of course. We’d have liked to publish the posts to coincide with Edwina’s birthday in July, but that couldn’t happen because this blog was in the middle of a complicated linked-posts project. But better late than never, right? So, a belated happy birthday to a very lovely lady (and, as you’ll see in this and the next three posts, an amazingly vibrant, lively and strong person too).
Happy reading!
Mahal (1949)
Since my last post was about my uncle, the guitarist David Vernon Kumar, it seemed appropriate to devote this post to one of the films for which he played. Mahal, made when my uncle was about 20 years old, featured the hauntingly melodious Aayega aanewaala, the song that shot Lata Mangeshkar into the limelight – also a song, which, if you listen carefully, has some beautiful guitar notes. Played by my Vernie tau.
Introducing ‘Kumar Sahib’
After having waxed so long and eloquent about my parents, my sister, my cousin, and a couple of other relatives (not to mention servants!) in the context of our love for cinema – it’s time to focus on the one link my family does have to cinema. The one person from our family who made it to the Hindi cinema industry in Bombay, back in the golden years.
David Vernon Liddle, who called himself David Vernon Kumar. People in the industry used to call him ‘Kumar Sahib’, and he was my father’s elder brother.
Aan (1953)
I’ve seen this film – a ‘raja-rani’ film, like Rustom-e-Hind – several times, but the most memorable viewing of it was at my parents’ home a couple of years ago.
Rustom-e-Hind (1965)
Mumtaz, as I mentioned in my last post, was one of the best things that happened to Mere Sanam. She may not have had much screen time in the film, but she certainly left her mark – more than she’d been doing in the B-grade films she’d mostly appeared in till then.
Rustom-e-Hind, made in the same year as Mere Sanam, is an example of that type of film. It’s basically a Dara Singh showcase – so there’s lots of showing off of wrestling – but Mumtaz gets to smile prettily and flutter her eyelashes, if nothing else.







