Abhiman | Mr. & Mrs. 55 – Classic Bollywood Revisited!

In the famous climax of Abhimaan (1973), Jaya Bhaduri and Amitabh Bachhan reunite on-stage for an emotional rendition of “Tere Mere Milan Ki.”

Today we showcase the lyrics and full English translation of “Tere Mere Milan Ki” from the 1973 hit film Abhimaan. Based loosely on the life of famous playback singer Kishore Kumar and his first wife, Ruma Ghosh, the film centers around a talented newlywed couple whose marriage is threatened by professional jealousy. When high-rolling pop singer Amitabh Bacchan marries innocent country girl Jaya Bhaduri, her newly-discovered musical prowess steals his limelight with alarming disharmony.

The show-stopping number “Tere Mere Milan Ki” is a song of reconciliation in the film’s finale. Flowing with tenderness and hope, the enchanting duet gives Amitabh Bacchan and Jaya Bhaduri another chance to love each other. Is their marriage worth saving? Read more about the film’s story and behind-the-scenes gossip in our earlier review of Abhimaan!

Amitabh Bachhan humbly begins his performance alone and ashamed in Abhimaan (1973).

Rightfully earning S.D. Burman the 1973 Filmfare Award for Best Music Director, “Tere Mere Milan Ki” is a classic example of Rabindra-sangeet in Bollywood. The song dazzles with Majrooh Sultanpuri’s poetic nuances, a metaphorical glimpse into the creation of a family. He describes the lover’s eyes as “chanchal,” which can mean playful, but also implies something that does not remain in one spot, a certain liveliness in spirit. With every “dekho na,” he directs that gaze back toward the night of their union, while she looks toward what lies ahead and the family they will begin together.

Jaya Bhaduri mourns her miscarried child backstage of her husband’s performance in Abhimaan (1973).

For me, this song has always glowed. Lata Mangeshkar’s voice resonates after the opening stanza like an angel descending from heaven. But it was only after seeing the film that I realized the heroine of the story had recently suffered a miscarriage. Thus the lines “nanhaa sa gul khilegaa a.Nganaa” are more than a hope for the future, but a true reflection of their family’s dream deferred. The entire song changed its meaning for me, and became if possible, even more poignant.

We hope you enjoy our English translation and lyrics to “Tere Mere Milan Ki” from Abhimaan (1973) below! Follow along with the video here.

Tere Mere Milan Ki Yeh Raina Lyrics and Translation:

Male:
Tere mere milan kii yeh rainaa
On the night of your and my union
Nayaa koi gul khilaayegi
A new rose will bloom
Tabhi to chanchal hai tere naina
That is why your eyes are playful
Dekho na! Dekho na, tere mere milan kii yeh rainaa
Look! Look at the night of your and my union

Female:
Nanha sa gul khilegaa a.Nganaa
A small rose will bloom upon our balcony
Suunii baiyaa sajegii, sajnaa
She will decorate my lonely arms, beloved
Male:
Jaise khele chandaa baadal mei.N
Just as the moon plays with the clouds
Khelegaa woh tere aa.Nchal mei.N
She will play in the folds of your saari
Female:
Chandaniyaa gungunaayegi
The rays of the moon will sing
Tabhi to chanchal hai tere naina
That is why your eyes are playful
Dekho na! Dekho na, tere mere milan kii yeh rainaa
Look! Look at the night of your and my union

Male:
Tujhe thaame kaii hatho.N se
I will hold your hand many times
Miluu.Nga madbharii raato.N mei.N
I will meet you many intoxicating nights
Female:
Jagaake aansuunii si dhaDkan
By awakening this unfamiliar heartbeat
Balamwaa, bhar duu.Ngii teraa man
My beloved, I will fill your soul
Male:
Nayii adaa se sataayegii
With a new style you will torment me
Tabhi to chanchal hai tere naina
That is why your eyes are playful
Dekho na! Dekho na, tere mere milan kii yeh rainaa
Look! Look at the night of your and my union

Both:
Nayaa koi gul khilaayegi
A new rose will bloom
Tabhi to chanchal hai tere naina
That is why your eyes are playful
Dekho na! Dekho na, tere mere milan kii yeh rainaa
Look! Look at the night of your and my union

Glossary:

milan: meeting, union; rainaa: night; gul: rose; tabhi: this is why, hence; chanchal: restless, playful; nainaa: eyes; nanhaa: little, tiny; a.Nganaa: balcony; suunii: lonely; baiyaa: arms; sajnaa [verb]: to decorate; sajnaa [noun]: darling, beloved; chandaa: moon; baadal: clouds; aa.Nchal: the end of a saari (pallu) or dupatta; chandan: silver, rays of the moon; gungunaanaa: to hum, to sing; haath thaamnaa: to hold hands; madbharii: filled with intoxication; jagaanaa: to wake up; aansuunii: unfamiliar, unheard; dhaDkan: heartbeat; balamwaa: lover; man: soul, heart; adaa: style; sataanaa: to torment

Amitabh comforts Jaya tere mere milan abhiman

Art mimics life as Amitabh Bachhan comforts Jaya Bhaduri in “Tere Mere Milan Ki” from Abhimaan (1973).

This lovely Lata-Kishore duet was requested by fan Dilip! Thank you for the beautiful request! For more songs from Abhimaan, check out our earlier post on the lovely Rafi-Lata duet “Teri Bindiya Re.”

– Mrs. 55

Art mimics life in Abhiman (1973) starring Amitabh Bachchan and Jaya Bhaduri

Everyone loves a bit of filmi gossip. I have been meaning to watch the film Abhiman (1973) ever since I discovered sometime in elementary school that Amitabh Bachchan was actually married (and now an old man) and to none other than Jaya Bhaduri. Like other Bollywood classics that are spicily known to mimic life itself, such as Kaagaz Ke Phool (1959) or Silsila (1981), Abhiman too has a wealth of behind-the-scenes parallels.

The film tells the story of a husband and wife singing duo—and the rift that forms between them as her career far overshadows his. Before I discuss the gender stereotypes that run rampant in this film, did you know that Abhiman is rumored to be based upon real-life singer Kishore Kumar’s relationship with his first wife Ruma Guha Thakurta? Given that Kishore sings half the songs of this film, it gets pretty juicy. Ruma was a hugely successful Bengali singer and actress (not to mention the niece of legendary filmmaker Satyajit Ray!) whose career was soaring during the time of their marriage. Ruma’s songs were super hits in the Bengali industry and she acted in more than 100 films, starting as a child actress. Kishore and Ruma married in 1951, had a son together Amit Kumar (who was a reasonably successful playback singer himself in the 80s), but the two divorced in 1958. In fact, Kishore proposed to his next wife Madhubala while still married to Ruma. Don’t you just love it?

Kishore Kumar with his first wife Ruma Guha Thakurta and their son Amit Kumar (circa 1953).

The gossip gets even better. After filming Abhiman, Jaya Bhaduri edged out of the acting industry to play housewife while Amitabh continued to make some of his greatest hits—the reason? At the time, people strongly suspected it was in order to prevent art mimicking real life! She was afraid of her own marriage suffering the fate of the marriage they had portrayed together on screen. Whether that’s completely true or not, we certainly don’t know—but their rocky relationship (and Amitabh’s later affair with Rekha) was certainly a hot subject of tabloids for years.

Furthermore, Jaya actually went to Lata Mangeshkar studio recordings for research for her character. In the film she mimics how Lata used to hold her saarii and stand on stage. You might even go so far as to say that this film represents what might have happened to Lata Mangeshkar herself had she married! Ah, the drama.

As far as the movie goes, beyond pure gossip value and an amazing soundtrack, Abhiman doesn’t do much but make your blood boil in one long heteronormative manifesto.

Jaya Bhaduri plays a rising singer in Abhiman (1973)

Amitabh can only be happy when he is the bread-winner and when praise of his wife reflects a praise of his decision to marry her. But when Jaya is recognized as an individual talent, he is unable to bear the competition—she’s a better singer, brings in better money, and let’s face it, better looking. So naturally, being a modern man, he turns to alcohol and the company of other women. Meanwhile, the pure-hearted wife stays a social recluse in her husband’s house, yearning for his return.

Amitabh Bachchan plays a jealous husband in Abhiman (1973)

The film takes an interesting twist—Jaya miscarriages and Bollywood simplifies this emotional tragedy by turning Jaya into a living statue whose only hope for recovery will be to hear her husband sing again. After all, that was her only wish in life, right? Amitabh even goes so far as to suggest electric shock therapy for her. I almost died.

The film’s overt “male gaze” turns Jaya into unintelligent object of curiosity and manipulation–a far cry from that vibrant and talented woman who once threatened her husband’s social sphere. There’s something disturbing about this message, but hey, what do I know. If you’re looking for a far more realistic portrayal of a similar situation, check out Judy Garland’s performance in A Star Is Born (1954), but otherwise enjoy S.D. Burman’s sublime soundtrack without tainting it with what Abhiman will attempt to pass off as completely normal gender expectations of the period.

– Mrs. 55