You know you’ve tried it. In the 1970s, few Indian men hitting the discotheques hadn’t. The moves of Rajesh Khanna were so powerful, so devastating that the BBC actually made a documentary on his lifestyle entitled “Bombay Superstar” to introduce him to the West. Rajesh Khanna’s signature wink was and remains the final word in Bollywood seduction. If executed correctly, the wink has a 100% success rate. You can see the wink in almost any of Rajesh Khanna songs, including the evergreen Yeh Shaam Mastani from Kati Patang (1970). For everyone who’s still having trouble, I’ve broken down how to pull off this infallible move in 5 easy-to-master steps.
Step 1: Eyes on the prize. Make full, deliberate eye-contact with the chosen target. Make sure she sees you and can sense something’s approaching. Notice the arched brow and the pursed lips–Rajesh Khanna knows how to concentrate when it counts.
Rajesh Khanna locks gazes with Asha Parekh, and both parties mentally prepare themselves for the upcoming wink.
Step 2: Shut your eyelids. The key here is simultaneously tilting your head posterolaterally with the chin leading the way. This takes some very dedicated practice and coordination, so please don’t attempt this in public before you’ve put in the time. Subtle, right? Rajesh Khanna was as talented as he was beautiful.
In the devastating second step of his all-purpose wink, Rajesh Khanna coyly tilts his head and bats his eyelids. A palpable shudder is felt across the mountainside.
Step 3: Act natural. Return immediately to starting position, maintaining eye contact with a sly smile as if what just occurred was normal. You’ll have plenty of time to gauge audience response after.
Rajesh Khanna smiles slyly. He knows the wink just happened. He also knows you know the wink just happened. But the song isn’t done yet, and neither is he.
Step 4: Finish the song. Above all, keep singing. You gotta finish what you started. The violins are still playing and Kishore Kumar’s only on the first antra so hold that gameface until the last note.
Rajesh Khanna resists the urge to assess his wink’s immediate success and instead brings the song to a steady finish, thus heightening the wink’s effect.
Step 5: Watch and weep. This should not really qualify as a step. Observe the target’s resulting awe and proceed to take the win by a. proposing to her, b. holding her hand or c. reprising the film’s theme song.
Asha Parekh is moved literally to tears by the awesome power of Rajesh Khanna’s wink. Another one bites the dust.
That’s it folks–5 simple steps to becoming a Bombay Superstar. No Rajesh Khanna song is really complete with out it! For your viewing pleasure and further studies, check out Rajesh Khanna’s “Yeh Jo Chilman Hai” from Mehboob Ki Mehndi (1971). Then find some hair gel, a colorful ascot, and get winking.
Shashi Kapoor and Asha Parekh star in Kanyadaan (1968)
For our next song, we translate the lyrics of my all-time favorite Mohammed Rafi song, Likhe Jo Khat Tujhe. The lyrics and translation of Likhe Jo Khat Tujhe have no frills, no super complicated Urdu, just verse straight from the heart. The metaphors of the lyrics have a simple beauty to them and the handsome voice of Mohammed Rafi brings them to sublimity. Although the film Kanyadan (1968) glorifies the social oppression of women and child marriages (highly objectionable and not worth the three hours I lost watching it), this song epitomizes what classic Bollywood love is all about. Boy falls for girl. Girl has an extremely cute colorful native outfit on and hides coyly behind local trees. Boy attempts to win over girl by serenading her. Girl and boy do not kiss, but you know by the way the camera pans around the flora that it’s on their minds. Likhe Jo Khat Tujhe is a blissfully adorable reminder of all things magical that Bollywood romance once meant: the charming poetry of innocent love. Can that ever get old?
Shashi Kapoor flashes his famous smile, somehow made even more handsome by the crooked teeth.
Also note the clever use of Shashi Kapoor’s sleek convertible as the object around which the actors flirt and evade each other. As if we weren’t already convinced of how cool it was to be modern in the 60s…
Likhe Jo Khat Tujhe Lyrics and Translation:
Likhe jo khat tujhe woh teri yaad mei.N
Those letters that I wrote to you Hazaaro.N rang ke nazaare ban gaye
Became a wondrous sight of a thousand colors Sa.Nveraa jab huaa to phool ban gaye,
When morning came, they became flowers Jo raat aayi to sitaare ban gaye
When night fell, they became stars Likhe jo khat tujhe…
Koyi naghma kahii.N goonjaa kahaa dil ne yeh tu aayii
A melody resonated somewhere as my heart sensed your presence Kahin chatki kali koyi main yeh samjha, tu sharmaayi
Somewhere a flower blossomed and it appeared as if you had blushed Koi khushboo kahii.N bikhrii lagaa yeh zulf lehraayi
A fragrance filled the air and it seemed to me your hair had billowed
Fiza rangeen, adaa rangeen, yeh ithlaana, yeh sharmaana
The ambiance is colourful, your style is colourful, you sometimes swagger, you are sometimes demure Yeh angaDaaii, yeh tanhaayii yeh tarsa kar, chale jaana
This preparedness, this isolation, this way you torture me, then walk away Bana de ga nahii.N kisko jawaa.N jadoo yeh deewaanaa?
Who would not go crazy with your youthful magic? Likhe jo khat tujhe…
Jahaa.N tu hai, vahaa.N main hoo.N, mere dil ki tu dhaDhkan hai
Wherever you are, I am there. You are my heartbeat Musaafir mai.N tu manzil hai, main pyaasaa hoo.N tu saawan hai
I am a traveler, you are my destination. I am thirsty, you are the monsoon Meri duniya yeh nazare.N hai.N, meri jannat yeh daaman hai
My world is held by the way you look at me, my paradise lies in your embrace Likhe jo khat tujhe…
For all the Urdu-Hindi grammar junkies, you’ll notice that we’ve written the word “naghma” with an “h” although it’s often seen written without. This because the word naghma in Urdu is actually spelled with a ghain, not a regular “g” (in Hindi, the “ga” would have a dot below to indicate this). Ghain makes the “g” a more gutteral, difficult sound to pronounce, but if you’re trying to impress your friends at your next Bollywood Night, be sure to enunciate this clearly. Other words like kaaghaz (paper), baagh (garden), maghruur (proud) and ghalat (mistake) also contained frequently overlooked ghains.
Muslim social dramas have always been one of my favorite genres of old Bollywood films. It is truly difficult to beat the classiness and sophistication that exudes from films such as Mere Huzoor (1968), Chaudhvin ka Chand (1961), or Bahu Begum (1967). The combination of beautiful costumes, intricate use of Urdu, and riveting drama makes watching these movies a truly memorable experience. Here, I’m going to a share with you what is considered to be one of the most romantic songs in the history of Hindi cinema: the title song from Mere Mehboob (1963), a film that embodies the essence of Lucknowi splendor as one of the best-known examples of the Muslim social.
In this film, student poet Anwar (played by Rajendra Kumar) writes this nazm after catching a brief glimpse of the aptly named Husna (played by Sadhana). One look at Husna’s eyes through her burkha is enough to make Anwar’s heart melt, and he is convinced by his friend to sing this piece at the university’s Urdu poetry competition (seriously, why do these not happen anymore?). Smitten by this handsome poet, Husna instantly feels a connection to Anwar but is too shy to make a move. I’ll save a full review of this movie for a later post, but I can tell you that this 3.5-hour film has the right mix of over-the-top melodrama, ironic plot twists, and beautifully constructed songs.
Composed by Naushad, penned by Shakeel Badayuni, and rendered by Mohammed Rafi, this song is a true classic that should be familiar to all the hopeless romantics out there who are obsessed with Hindi cinema like us. One of the most striking things about Mere Mehboob is the formality of the courtship between Husna and Anwar, and the lyrics of this song reflect the conventions (e.g. the practice of purdah) that were followed by lovers when pursuing one another in those days. It might just be the old-fashioned side of me, but anyone who can dedicate a poem like this to me is a total keeper in my book. So, the next time you’re around your favorite crush, why not try quoting a few lines from this gem? You never know what could happen…
-Mr. 55
P.S. The movie also contains a female version of this song rendered by Lata Mangeshkar. I am the self-proclaimed president of the Lata fan club, but even I must concede here that the Rafi version is unbeatable. What do you guys think? Let us know in the comments
Sadhana startles Rajendra Kumar by reciting his poem on the other side of the screen in this classic scene from Mere Mehboob (1963).
Lyrics:
mere mahbuub tujhe, merii muhabbat ki qasam phir mujhe nargisii aa.nkho.n kaa sahaaraa de de meraa khoyaa huaa rangiinnazaaraa de de mere mahbuub tujhe.
ai mere khvaab kii taabiir, merii jaan-e-ghazal zindagii merii tujhe yaad kiye jaatii hai raat din mujhko sataataa hai tasavvur tera dil ki dhaDkan tujhe avaaz diye jaatii hai aa mujhe apnii sadaao.n ka sahaaraa de de [meraa khoyaa huaa rangiin nazaaraa de de mere mahbuub tujhe]
bhuul saktii nahii.n aa.nkhe.n voh suhaanaamanzar jab teraa husn mere ishq se Takraayaa thhaa aur phir raah me.n bikhre thhe hazaro.n naghme mai.n voh naghme terii avaaz ko de aayaa thhaa saaz-e-dil ko unhii.n giito.n kaa sahaaraa de de [meraa khoyaa huaa rangiin nazaaraa de de mere mahbuub tujhe]
yaad hai mujhko merii umr ki pahlii voh ghaDii terii aa.nkho.n se koii jaam piiyaa thhaa mai.ne merii rag-rag me.n koii barq-si leheraayii thhii jab tere marmarii haathho.n ko chhuu.naa thhaa mai.ne aa mujhe phir unhii.n haatho.n kaa sahaaraa de de [meraa khoyaa huaa rangiin nazaaraa de de mere mahbuub tujhe]
mai.ne ek baar terii ek jhalak dekhii hai merii hasrat hai ki mai.n phir tera diidaarkaruu.n tere saaye ko samajh kar mai.n hasii.n taaj mahal chaa.ndni raat me.n nazaro.n se tujhe pyaar karuu.n apnii mahkii huii zulfo.n kaa sahaaraa de de [meraa khoyaa huaa rangiin nazaaraa de de mere mahbuub tujhe]
DhuunDhtaa huu.n tujhe har raah me.n har mahfil me.n thhak gaye hai.n merii majbuurtamanna ke qadam aaj kaa din hai merii ummiid kaa aakhrii din kal na jaane mai.n kahaa.n aur tu kahaa.n ho sanam do ghaDii apnii nigaaho.n kaa sahaaraa de de [meraa khoyaa huaa rangiin nazaaraa de de mere mahbuub tujhe]
saamne aake zaraa pardaa uThaa de rukh se ek yahii.n mera ilaaj-e-gham-e-tanhaayii hai terii furqat ne pareshaan kiyaa hai mujhko ab to mil jaa ki merii jaan pe ban aayii hai dil ko bhuulii huii yaado.n kaa sahaaraa de de [meraa khoyaa huaa rangiin nazaaraa de de mere mahbuub tujhe]
Glossary: mahbuub: beloved; muhabbat: love ; qasam: vow; nargisii: daffodil; sahaaraa: support; rangiin: colorful; nazaaraa: sight, vision; khvaab: dream taabiir: interpretation, meaning; jaan-e-ghazal: soul of poetry; sataanaa: to pester; tasavvur: imagination, thought; sadaa: voice, call; suhaanaa: pleasant; manzar: sight, vision; husn: beauty; Takraanaa: to collide; bikhre: scattered; naghmaa: song; saaz-e-dil: the instruments of the heart; ghaDii: moment; jaam piinaa: to drink wine; rag-rag: veins; barq: electricity; marmarii: soft, delicate; chhuunaa: to touch; jhalak: a glimpse; hasrat: desire; diidaar karna: to catch a glmpse ; mahkii huii: fragrant; mahfil: a gathering/evening of poetry, music, or dance; thhak jaanaa: to become weary; majbuur: helpless; tamanna: desire; qadam: footsteps; ummiid: hope; nigaahe.n: eyes; pardaa: veil; rukh: face; ilaaj-e-gham-e-tanhaayii: cure for the sorrow of solitude; furqat: separation; pareshaan: anxious, concerned
Rough Translation:
My beloved, in the name of my love,
Please, once again, lend me the support of your daffodil-like eyes,
And please return the colorful vision that I have lost.
You are the meaning of my dreams and the soul of my poetry.
My existence continues to remember you,
And thoughts of you pester me day and night
Please come and lend me the support of your voice.
And please return the colorful vision that I have lost.
My eyes are unable to forget that beautiful sight
When your beauty collided with my love,
And scattered on the path remained a thousand melodies
That I had gifted to your voice.
Please lend me the support of those songs to the instruments in my heart
And please return the colorful vision that I have lost.
I remember the first moments of my life
When I had drunk some wine from your eyes.
A flash of lightning surged through my veins,
As I brushed upon your velvet-like hands.
Please come and lend me the support of those hands,
And please return the colorful vision that I have lost.
I have caught a glimpse of you just once,
But my desire is to behold the sight of you once again.
Mistaking your shadow for the beautiful Taj Mahal,
I have been making love to you on moonlit nights with my glances.
Please lend me the support of your fragrant tresses,
And please return the colorful vision that I have lost.
I seek you in every path and in every gathering,
As the feet of my helpless desires have become weary.
Oh beloved, who knows where you and I will be tomorrow?
Please lend me the support of your eyes for a few moments today,
And please return the colorful vision that I have lost.
Please come in front of me and lift the veil hiding your face,
This is the only solution for the sorrow of my solitude.
Being separated from you has made me anxious,
Now come meet me because this separation is threatening my existence.
Please lend the support of forgotten memories to my heart,
And please return the colorful vision that I have lost.
Mr. & Mrs. 55 - Classic Bollywood Revisited! 