If only he hadn't appeared in the Havells fan commercial. It would have preserved the romance of Rajesh Khanna and hidden from adoring fans what age and disease can do to a man who was celebrated for his looks and mannerisms not too long ago.
Even more heart-crushing is to watch the video on the making of the commercial. You will realise that even the line, 'Babumoshai, merey fans mujhse koi nahin chheen sakta,' is dubbed by a mimic artiste because the former superstar had completely lost his voice by then. He looks gravely ill -- a pathetic skeleton -- and speaks in whispers to the interviewer, as if he is on deathbed. Well, he already was already on deathbed: just that no one cares about a faded actor unless he actually dies.
Now that Rajesh Khanna is dead, maybe the makers of the commercial did the right thing. They gave him one last chance to face the camera and assert his erstwhile superstardom: 'Babumoshai, merey fans mujhse koi nahin chheen sakta.' They made him sign out of the world in style. The sad part is, he was only 69.
I was not even born when Aradhana released -- my date of birth being 26 December 1970 -- and by the time I was old enough to understand movies, Amitabh Bachchan was already the new star. Yet, I knew Rajesh Khanna -- his superstardom had left its traces just about everywhere, including the saloon in Kanpur where I would be taken by my father on designated Sundays for a haircut. At the saloon, the word 'hero' was synonymous with Rajesh Khanna, and not Amitabh Bachchan. The hairdressers would often ask patrons if they wanted their hair styled in the fashion of Rajesh Khanna.
I was fifteen when I first saw Aradhana -- by then I had seen most of the famous Amitabh Bachchan films, including Sholay -- yet I was struck by the handsomeness of Rajesh Khanna. How can a man be so charming? And the song, Roop tera mastana -- I still rate it as the most sensual song ever created in Hindi cinema.
I saw Rajesh Khanna in person only once, in 1996, when he was chosen by the Congress party to contest the Lok Sabha elections from the New Delhi seat. He was already the sitting MP from the constituency (having defeated BJP's Shatrughan Sinha in the previous elections), and now that he was formally going to launch his campaign, he had invited the media to his home on Lodhi Road (if I remember the address right).
I was a cub reporter back then. Those days there were no television channels, only print media. After a press conference, Rajesh Khanna and his wife Dimple and their two daughters got up on a stationary jeep for the benefit of news photographers. "Dimpy, zara wave karna," he told his wife. The entire family waved at an imaginary crowd while the photographers clicked away.
He lied to the readers back then, he lied to the viewers now. Back then, readers could not tell whether the jeep was stationary, but this time, in the fan commercial, it was evident that the famous journey that began with a song on a jeep was nearing its end.
With Rajesh Khanna's death, yet another solid pillar that stood between our generation and mortality has caved in. Dev Anand died just a few months ago. Perhaps a matter of time before the remaining of the pillars fall and we stand on the edge of the world, waiting to board the plane that never returns. How come so soon?
Even more heart-crushing is to watch the video on the making of the commercial. You will realise that even the line, 'Babumoshai, merey fans mujhse koi nahin chheen sakta,' is dubbed by a mimic artiste because the former superstar had completely lost his voice by then. He looks gravely ill -- a pathetic skeleton -- and speaks in whispers to the interviewer, as if he is on deathbed. Well, he already was already on deathbed: just that no one cares about a faded actor unless he actually dies.
Now that Rajesh Khanna is dead, maybe the makers of the commercial did the right thing. They gave him one last chance to face the camera and assert his erstwhile superstardom: 'Babumoshai, merey fans mujhse koi nahin chheen sakta.' They made him sign out of the world in style. The sad part is, he was only 69.
I was not even born when Aradhana released -- my date of birth being 26 December 1970 -- and by the time I was old enough to understand movies, Amitabh Bachchan was already the new star. Yet, I knew Rajesh Khanna -- his superstardom had left its traces just about everywhere, including the saloon in Kanpur where I would be taken by my father on designated Sundays for a haircut. At the saloon, the word 'hero' was synonymous with Rajesh Khanna, and not Amitabh Bachchan. The hairdressers would often ask patrons if they wanted their hair styled in the fashion of Rajesh Khanna.
I was fifteen when I first saw Aradhana -- by then I had seen most of the famous Amitabh Bachchan films, including Sholay -- yet I was struck by the handsomeness of Rajesh Khanna. How can a man be so charming? And the song, Roop tera mastana -- I still rate it as the most sensual song ever created in Hindi cinema.
I saw Rajesh Khanna in person only once, in 1996, when he was chosen by the Congress party to contest the Lok Sabha elections from the New Delhi seat. He was already the sitting MP from the constituency (having defeated BJP's Shatrughan Sinha in the previous elections), and now that he was formally going to launch his campaign, he had invited the media to his home on Lodhi Road (if I remember the address right).
I was a cub reporter back then. Those days there were no television channels, only print media. After a press conference, Rajesh Khanna and his wife Dimple and their two daughters got up on a stationary jeep for the benefit of news photographers. "Dimpy, zara wave karna," he told his wife. The entire family waved at an imaginary crowd while the photographers clicked away.
He lied to the readers back then, he lied to the viewers now. Back then, readers could not tell whether the jeep was stationary, but this time, in the fan commercial, it was evident that the famous journey that began with a song on a jeep was nearing its end.
With Rajesh Khanna's death, yet another solid pillar that stood between our generation and mortality has caved in. Dev Anand died just a few months ago. Perhaps a matter of time before the remaining of the pillars fall and we stand on the edge of the world, waiting to board the plane that never returns. How come so soon?
8 comments:
A touching article...I totally agree that he had some of the best songs which will continue to enchant generations, as will his handsomeness, acting, roles...but I wish he had not done the Havells ad...maybe it gave him what you said, one last chance to face the camera, but I felt the ad was in bad taste, like it was almost in an insulting and mocking vein...ok, so the tagline was that noone can take his fans away from him, but what it showed was that now he had nothing but ceiling fans and table fans in the end, no more adoring fans...I was amazed at the utter insensitivity at the ad agency and theorized that he must have been so in need of money to agree to be made fun of like this...wonder if anybody else shares my opinion?
Only you can write this so beautifully....A fitting tribute...
Thanks...
Zig
Rajesh Khanna was a legend in his life time. His movies had a very rare combination of romance, style, grace and music. There can never be another like him. All true lovers of music and graceful action will miss him for a very long time. Thanks for every thing Mr.Khanna. May your soul rest in peace.his favorite song Mai Shayar Badnaam
yes....how come so soon...but yet as he said..."babumosai hum sab rang manch ki katputaliyan hai.... kaun kab kaise uthega"...........yet he ll always there romancing music and incredible sharmila tagore and mumtaz ......immoratalised in cinema!!!!!
I don't belong to the generation that grew watching Rajesh Khanna films, too.. But then who doesn't know Rajesh Khanna?
What difference it would have made had RK died post- Aradhana?
I can't stop wondering...
Like Saahir Ludhianvi wrote for 'Kabhie Kabhie'- Main Pal do Pal ka shayar hoon... pal do pal meri kahaani hai... pal do pal meri hasti hai... pal do pal meri jawaani hai...
An actor walks his shadows, becomes a recluse in the last stages of his life and when he dies, the stage that he once ruled comes alive again. Chants in his glory are sung again and his death is mourned. A grandeur, a spectacular replay of his glorious career, followed by a refrain that he left a void that would never be filled. But, how strange. Didn't the yesteryear star just vacate his throne for another to occupy and the process keeps repeating till there is hunger for fame, money and name. And yet they mourn the passing of an era, and say he will never be forgotten. Death steals the attention and brings back the spotlight. It seems to me like a sublime tragedy. An unexplained paradox....
RIP, RK. The melodies you had been the face of will be remembered forever.
Anand mara nahi... anand marte nahi....
What a touching tribute......I can watch meri sapnon ki rani, roop tera mastana videos any number of times, but to watch the video of Havells fans ad was slow & painful, and cannot be watched another time.....
I simply loved your last paragraph. It is so beautifully written.
BG, your write-up is just a reminder that death removes every grudge or anger that we may have against a person; it changes our perception of the events before death, I've heard people of his age say "Buddha ghar pe baith nahi sakta kya? Aisa muh leke tv pe aane ki zaroorat kya hai?" about that fans ad. I loved that ad as he showed guts to take on his old rival on his own turf.
My first memories of him are the songs from Soutan and Aaj ka MLA (Tirupati Balaji jai ho tumhari Balaji) played on Binaca Geet Mala. I became aware of his golden period only after the VCR boom. :)
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