Right now, I’m on a five-day visit to my parents. They’re not Beiges, but I’d probably label them Greys—the salt far surpasses the pepper in their hair. We’ve been spending quality time together, eating the best chhola bhaturas in town, catching up on the latest gossip, and watching films. We started with Living it Up and Bells are Ringing, and then my father (who generally prefers Bollywood to Hollywood, unless it’s the Marx Brothers-Laurel and Hardy-Chaplin brands of comedy) put his foot down. Let’s see something Hindi, he said. So we settled on this one, because my father likes its music a lot, and Mummy and I like Shammi Kapoor a lot.
Tag Archives: Mumtaz Begum
Barsaat ki Raat (1960)
For all those who thought I’d deserted classic Hindi cinema to wax eloquent about Robert Mitchum: good news. I’m back. After gushing for a week (well, a little more) about Mitch and his films, I’ve returned to Bollywood—and with a film that’s a must-watch for anyone who likes Muslim socials; who thinks Madhubala is gorgeous; or who loves old Hindi film music—especially qawwalis.
I fall into all three categories, so Barsaat ki Raat was long overdue for a rewatch.

Neela Akash (1965)
When I see Dharmendra, Mala Sinha, Madan Puri, Mehmood and Shashikala as part of the cast, I’m inclined to sit back with a happy smile and look forward to the movie. I expect to be entertained, not subjected to a string of disconnected scenes that make me want to weep with frustration. But yes, after Baharein Phir Bhi Aayengi (also Dharmendra and Mala Sinha—I’m losing my faith in these two), Neela Akash was another disappointment.
The film begins with the graduation of Neela (Mala Sinha), the eldest of the three offspring of Karamchand (Raj Mehra) and his wife (Sulochana Latkar). Karamchand is the type of father nobody should be subjected to: he’s bossy, selfish, prone to gambling (and worse, losing) at the races, and a drunk. Fortunately, a good-at-heart goon called Abdul Chacha (Madan Puri) hauls him home every night.

Baharein Phir Bhi Aayengi (1966)
Like DG, I’m a die-hard Dharmendra fan. In my opinion, this was one actor who had it all: he looked splendid, and he could act (look at stuff like Satyakam and Anupama: sterling performances all the way). For me, Dharmendra by himself was enough reason to watch Baharein Phir Bhi Aayengi. Add to that the vivacious Tanuja—one of my favourite actresses—and a madcap Johnny Walker, plus a great musical score, and this was one film I was sure I’d enjoy.
Post view reactions? Mixed. Read on.

