sexual revolution | Mr. & Mrs. 55 – Classic Bollywood Revisited!

Shammi Kapoor plays a lovable rockstar in Teesri Manzil (1966).

Bollywood actor Shammi Kapoor (1930-2011) was popularly known as the Elvis of India. I just got back from a road trip with my fiancé down to Graceland, home of the original King. Despite jamming out to “That’s All Right Mama” as we toured around, I couldn’t help but think of Bombay film legend Shammi Kapoor and the famous media comparison. I’m a diehard Elvis Presley fan, and my love for his Indian counterpart is no less. But is it even fair to correlate the two?

When I first heard of the comparison of yesteryear Bollywood actor Shammi to American rock-and-roll legend Elvis, I needed a little convincing. All right, I needed a lot of convincing. Nothing short of blasphemy is on the line when you start comparing yourself to the King. I grew up listening to Elvis and had seen Shammi Kapoor films like an Evening in Paris (1967), Brahmachari (1968), Prince (1969) and Andaz (1971). The slightly overweight Bollywood thespian with heavy pancake makeup and tight pants was a far cry from the jailhouse rocking Elvis Presley I knew so well. After all, anyone can wear a pair of tight pants in public, but not everyone should.

So why then do we call Shammi Kapoor the Elvis of India? To begin to answer this, we must go back in time. We return to Shammi Kapoor’s earliest hits films in the days before even the rip-roaring success of Junglee (1961): movies like Tumsa Nahin Dekha (1957) and Dil Deke Dekho (1958). Suddenly, the similarities in appearance are clear. Sure in later colour films Shammi Kapoor didn’t look much like Elvis, but let’s face it, by the time the 70s rolled around, Elvis didn’t look much like Elvis either.

Unintentional twins, Elvis Presley (left) and Shammi Kapoor (right) revolutionized the entertainment industry complete with popped collars and pompadours.

But the comparison of the two entertainment icons goes beyond mere appearance. Elvis brought with him a cultural revolution in the midst of a tumultuous political atmosphere in the U.S. Shammi Kapoor, I would argue, brought that same youthful rebellion to India. Before Shammi Kapoor, no actor had ever so deliberately and daringly sought to appeal to the “modern youth” audience on-screen. Before the Shammi revolution, popular actors like Ashok Kumar, Guru Dutt and even Raj Kapoor appealed to a more traditional, elder protagonist who often encountered a modern society—but did not speak for it. Shammi was different.

Both Elvis (left) and Shammi (right) pose with their convertibles, hands on hips and one button too many unbuttoned.

With edgy attire, a boyish charm to mask his sharp tongue and a irreverent eye for the ladies, Shammi burst onto the Bombay scene with never-before-seen sex-appeal. He voiced the thoughts and emotions of a new generation who didn’t play by the rules of their fathers—Shammi flirted shamelessly in his movies, played the drums like a rockstar in his songs, and never failed to bring a sleek pompadour ‘do to the set to balance the party happening in his hips. Before Shammi, such actions would have been downright villainous, reserved only for the drunk antagonist of the film who would never win the pure-hearted girl. But Shammi changed the game.

He oozed that James Dean sense of self-confidence so despised by the older generations and so adored by young women everywhere. Watch his peacock strut in “Baar Baar Dekho” from Chinatown (1962), and the way Mohammed Rafi throws in a suave “Tally ho!” into the mix as Shammi coolly slams his guitar. Those signature hip gyrations would have done the King proud!

Elvis Presley and Shammi Kapoor strike similar poses in even more similar outfits. Left: Elvis performing “Jailhouse Rock” in 1957. Right: Shammi Kapoor swinging to “Dilruba Meri Neeta” in Dil Deke Dekho (1959).

The heart of the revolution, of course, lay with the music. Elvis combined his Southern gospel routes with African-American rhythm and blues to create a whole new catchy sound that caught the country by storm. It was a wave that Shammi Kapoor brought to Bombay. Through radical compositions that drew upon rock-and-roll themes, sassy lyrics, and Mohammed Rafi’s energetic and versatile vocals, Shammi Kapoor too changed the face Bollywood music, ushering an era of fusion-inspired hits from “Bolo Bolo Kuch To Bolo” to “Aaja Aaja Main Hoon Pyaar Tera.”

As Shammi Kapoor said in a Times of India interview before his death:

“My style was unique, but it would have come to nothing had it not been for such brilliant music directors like O. P. Nayyar and Shankar-Jaikishan. I was this supremely macho guy and within me lay dormant an incredible energy that was screaming for expression. Luckily for me, my directors sensed the potential in me and allowed me to unleash my creativity. I guess I also had this very innocent way of looking at girls that heightened the romance element in my films.”

My visit to Graceland, home of the King of Rock and Roll. Left: Boarding one of Elvis’ private jets named for his daughter Lisa Marie. Right: Giving the King a little help holding up a gold record!

The truth of the matter is, Shammi Kapoor never said he modeled himself off of Elvis and never mentioned him in any interviews. Although their legacies share some similarities, the two men never met nor made any attempt to do so. The parallels that link their names together are those that we their fans imagined as observers. The late Shammi Kapoor did not achieve fame in an era where concert videos of Elvis could be watched or copies of the King’s films reviewed over and over again. Shammi insisted that all his choreography was extempore, straight from his heart. In fact, the only direct Bollywood copy of an Elvis hit was “Marguerita” (1963) picturised as “Kaun Hai Jo Sapnon Mein Aaya” by Rajendra Kumar in 1968.

So ultimately, perhaps it is an injustice to say that Shammi Kapoor imitated Elvis Presley’s style. After all, many men around the world knew how to shake their hips and puff their hair, but how many could bellow “YAHOO!” to the object of their affection and get away with it?

Perhaps it would be better to call Elvis the Shammi Kapoor of America.

– Mrs. 55

Nutan literally worships the ground beneath her husband’s feet in Khandan (1965).

There is a careful line to be drawn in classic Bollywood cinema between love for a man and all-out worship. The songs below represent that unfortunate relic of Bollywood songs that transformed the excitement and bliss of romantic love into something plain unhealthy. We all know the genre I refer to. The trouble is, the songs are so good on a purely artistic level that we can’t help but keep playing them over and over again. Most of them were smash hits at the time of their release and continue to keep a significant slice of Indian audiences captivated, despite shifting social norms.

It’s easy to oversimplify this phenomena by saying, “it’s cultural” or “that was the way of thinking back then.” Yes, in India as in many countries, many women were raised to believe their ultimate role was in service to their husband and the framework for sexuality revolutionized worldwide in the 60s and 70s. But you can’t let it go at that for any similar explanation undermines the contradictory evidence within Indian history and the inherent wrong of this mindset. I don’t care if you lived in the 17th century or were born yesterday, we can’t raise our daughters like this. India is a country famous for electing the first female Prime Minister, for revering the strength and wisdom of its many awe-inspiring female gods, and where women become IT specialists and make salaries equivalent to their male counterparts. But there’s an uglier side too, and hopefully today we all feel a collective awkwardness when reminded of it in that great reflection of culture: film.

You’ll notice that all the songs on our cringe-tastic list are Lata Mangeshkar (half of them Nutan) hits, and it’s no surprise. Of course, it would be the heroine, not the bad modern girl left with an Asha side number, that would sing the song of self-flagellistic devotion. It’s a bad sign that some of these lines were thought to be representative of the “ideal” woman or wife–have we really improved anything by turning women into half-naked screens sirens instead? You decide.

Nutan just loves doing household chores and singing about her god-like husband in Saudagar (1973).

Personally, I have a violent reaction hearing some of these words come out of these actresses. Have a gander yourself and listen carefully to so-called Indian love of the 1950s and 1960s. Can you make it to the bottom of this list without squirming?

1. Tumhi Mere Mandir (Khandan 1965)

Cringe-worthy line: “Tumhi mere mandir, tumhi mere pujaa, tumhi devta ho.” (“You alone are my temple, you alone are my prayer, you alone are my God.”)

Gurrl, please stop it. This is seriously not healthy. Husbands should not take the place of God in your day-t0-day logic. How are you even functioning right now?

2. Aap Ki Nazaro.n Ne Samjha (Anpadh 1962)

Cringe-worthy lines: “Aap ki nazaro.n ne samjha pyaar ke qaabil mujhe…Keh rahi hai har nazar, banda parwar shukriya.” (“Your glances deemed me worthy of your love…every glance of mine says ‘Thank you, Lord.'”)

AAAAAAAAAAH. I’m in so much pain right now. So you’re telling me, you’re grateful that your husband “deemed you worthy” of his love? Help me. Check out our full translation if you’re in the mood for punishment!

3. Tera Mera Saath Rahe (Saudagar 1973)

Cringe-worthy line:”Tu kabhi mere khuda, mujhse bezaar na ho.” (May you never become angry with me, my revered God!)

Although this film is actually really good and takes some unexpected twists that make you love Nutan, I can’t deal with her in this song. She frolics around doing the chores with a pep in her step, just wishing and hoping that her GOD, oh wait, sorry, that man you married, will never be angry at her.

4. Hum Tere Pyaar Mei.N (Dil Ek Mandir 1963)

Cringe-worthy line: “Is tere charan kii dhuul se ham ne apnii jiivan maa.ng bharii…Ab in charano.n me.n dam nikle bas itnii aur tamannaa hai.” (“I put sindoor on my forehead from the dust at your feet…now I have but one more wish, which is to die at your feet.”)

OMG, calm down, girlfriend. You are legit scaring me. I don’t care if you’re being figurative, go take a cold shower and re-evaluate yourself!!! Our English translation of this monster is here.

5. Dheere Dheere Machal (Anupama 1966)

Cringe-worthy line: “Mujhko karne de! Karne de! Solah sringar! Koi aataa hai!” (Oh let me, let me, let me adorn myself and put on full-make up! He is coming!”)

OK I get it, we all try to look good for our man, but it’s the sheer frenzied desperation here that bothers me. Do you think your man gets that crazy to straighten his tie and brush his hair when he hears your painted toenails pattering on the ground in approach??

So how’d you do? Survived? Well done! Sorry about my rant, I just prefer a little equality in a relationship. For a rebuttal (and there are plenty to choose from), be sure to read our post on Mukesh’s “Koi Jab Tumhara Hriday” just in case you were afraid it was only women who knew how to grovel. Did we miss any cringe-worthy gems that always rankle your bones? Let us know in the comments!
-Mrs. 55