Archive for December, 2009

Aakhri Khat – 1966

Posted in Super Star Rajesh Khanna on December 4, 2009 by manoharv2009

 

 

 

AAKHRI KHAT

Production Year 1966

Language Hindi

Genre Drama

Producer  : Himalaya Films

Director Chetan Anand

Music Director Khayyam

Star Cast Rajesh khanna, Indrani Mukherjee, Nana Palsikar, Maruti, Tun Tun, Master Bunty,

Colour Colour 

 Synopsis  :

Akhri Khat is a black and white movie made in 1966.

Rajesh Khanna is a student who loves a girl of a village – Indrani Mukherjee. He comes to the city and has to leave for his education. The girl meanwhile gets pregnant and gives birth to a little boy. Carrying her 1 year son she comes to Mumbai to meet Rajesh Khanna. She dies leaving her son alone.

Rajesh Khanna comes know all through a letter, realizes his mistakes and takes help of police to find his wife and son. He breaks down when he find his wife’s body. His resolve to search for his son gets more strong. The whole story follows the child how he survives in such a big city- how he drinks milk from the milk bottles left on people’s doorsteps by the milk man, avoids accidents etc.. The camera follows him everywhere. The climax is really moving. The baby boy is cute.

The story is new and moving. The music is fine. The acting is first rate. Direction by Chetan Anand is astounding. Rajesh performs well- looks lean and young. It is a great and completely different movie.

1. Aur kuch der theher – Mohd. Rafi
http://www.youtube.com/watch…

2. Baharon mera jeevan bhi sawaaro – Lata M.
http://www.youtube.com/watch…

3. Mere chanda mere nanhe – Lata M.
http://www.youtube.com/watch…

4. Rut jawaan jawaan raat meherban – Bhupinder Singh
http://www.youtube.com/watch…

Safar: A memorable journey – Super Star Rajesh Khanna

Posted in Super Star Rajesh Khanna with tags on December 3, 2009 by manoharv2009

Rajesh Khanna is well known for his Asit Sen’s 1970 hit Safar is a story of ordinary people grappling with staggering challenges and compromises. But in this refreshingly non-melodramatic fare, a murmur of protest, an escaped sob and a half-concealed smirk are the only emotional luxuries its characters afford themselves in the inexplicable journey of life, the eponymous safar of the title. A famous song from this film emphasises the primordial requirement for coping instead of moping: Nadiya chale chale re dhara, chanda chale chale re taara, tujhko chalna hoga (The river flows on, as does the tide; the moon goes on, as do the stars; you too will have to move on). Caught in the eddying whirlpool of emotions are Safar’s protagonists Neela (Sharmila Tagore [ Images ]) and Avinash (Rajesh Khanna [ Images ]). Safar is narrated as a long flashback from a greying Neela’s point of view. Neela is a budding doctor who lives with her cynical writer-brother Kalidas (I S Johar at his deadpan best) and his wife (Aruna Irani). Avinash, their bachelor neighbour and friend, is a painter by profession and poet by aptitude. But behind his life-affirming smile lurks death. He suffers from cancer. CREDITS Producer Director Music Cast Mushir Riaz Asit Sen Kalyanji-Anandji Rajesh Khanna, Sharmila Tagore, Feroz Khan [ Images ] Neela and Avinash’s touching match of compassion and artistic vivacity finds expression in the beautifully penned Indivar number, Jeevan se bhari teri aankhen, majboor kare jeene ke liye (Your eyes, so full of life, compel me to continue living). But unlike Hrishikesh Mukherjee’s Anand (which also saw Khanna play a cancer patient who spreads bonhomie wherever he goes), Asit Sen’s Avinash seems more real. He experiences pendulum-like swings from fierce optimism to brooding pessimism as he sings, ‘Phool aise bhi hai jo khile hi nahee, jinko khilne ke pehle hi khiza kha gayee (There are flowers that never bloom, autumn sets in even before they can blossom).’ There is one unforgettable scene in Safar where you realise the import of the visual vis-à-vis the spoken word in cinema. When Avinash asks his doctor Chandra (Ashok Kumar) if he will live long, Chandra places an hourglass on the table. Avinash stares at the rapidly falling grains of sand; he doesn’t need an answer. Neela, too, is fighting to survive — economically. She teaches Montu (Mahesh Kothari), the younger brother of a stockbroker Shekhar (Feroz Khan). But when she reprimands Montu for reading pornography during her tuition, she incurs the wrath of Montu’s aristocratic mother (Nadira) and is sacked. A contrite Shekhar brings her back, this time as mistress of the manor. Neela had been reluctant to marry him, but Avinash compels her to think logically. Though Neela had been content savouring every moment spent with Avinash, hoping he would miraculously survive, she finally relents. Scant hours after the nuptial night and a honeymoon vow about ‘Jo tumko ho pasand wohi baat karenge (I will only say what pleases you)’ — picturised imaginatively on the ghats of Mahableshwar with the sound of a car’s honk serving as musical accompaniment to Mukesh’s masculine voice — the husband changes his tune. He resents Neela’s visits to Avinash. He sees a hidden agenda in simple gestures like Neela rearranging Avinash’s bedsheets. The drama now revolves around the question: which of these two men — one eaten up with jealousy, the other by cancer and misplaced sympathy — will win the right to ruin Neela’s life even more? The film affords a fascinating study of the link between worldly success and male self-worth in the sequences where Shekhar, after losing heavily in the share market, distracts himself by obsessing over the possibility of Neela’s infidelity. His desire to divert his attention so that he can feel less uncomfortable in his own skin is a sad but telling comment on human nature. Shekhar ultimately commits suicide by getting an unsuspecting Neela to give him a drink laced with poison. The film folds up when the court acquits Neela of Shekhar’s murder after his mother testifies in her favour. The mother’s motivation for clearing Neela remains shrouded in ambiguity. Portions of the film are perhaps a bit too opaque for its own good. Thereafter, Safar limps unnecessarily to show a dying Avinash unattended by Neela who is busy with an emergency. Montu’s screaming declaration to Neela that she was responsible for Avinash’s death, and her subsequent reaction that he shouldn’t address her as sister-in-law any more, leave one a trifle baffled. The only conclusion one can hesitatingly draw is that Neela has decided to be unencumbered by emotional attachments so that she can unreservedly serve mankind. Rajesh Khanna beautifully conveys his character’s desperation and his conviction that surviving by a slender thread is not really living. Song Singers Jeevan se bhari teri Kishore Kumar [ Images ] Zindagi ka safar Kishore Kumar Hum the jinke sahare Lata Mangeshkar [ Images ] Jo tumko ho pasand Mukesh Nadiya chale chale re Manna Dey Sharmila Tagore is a study in stoicism. She is largely effective, but does blow up a couple of crucial scenes due to her preoccupation with mascara and mannerisms. It is Feroz Khan, in an author-backed role, who singes you with his simmering jealousy. The potassium cyanide he consumes to kill himself seemed like the external manifestation of the suspicion he is consumed by. If only the motivations for Sharmila’s character weren’t so often left to the viewers’ interpretation, Safar would have featured higher on the list of all-time classics. Instead, it emerges as a collection of impressive segments. Memorable dialogue Sharmila Tagore (remarking on Feroz Khan’s unremitting jealousy): Suyee jab record par atak jaati hai, sangeet nahee shor nikalta hai (When the needle gets stuck on the record, you hear noise instead of music). Sidelights Within six months of winning accolades for his performance as a dying man in Safar, Rajesh Khanna played another memorable cancer patient in Anand. After Safar’s premiere, Meena Kumari remarked to Nadira that Rajesh Khanna looked too ruddy-cheeked to be a cancer patient. Nadira promptly conveyed the message to Rajesh Khanna. Feroz Khan won a firm foothold in the industry by immediately following his flamboyant act as the corrupt builder in Aadmi Aur Insaan with Safar. Music One of Kalyanji-Anandji’s best scores, Safar had Mukesh’s haunting rendition of Jo tumko ho pasand. It suited Feroz Khan’s rugged personality to the tee. Consequently, Feroz employed Mukesh’s vocals in most of his films, including Apradh and Dharmatma. historic Foremost Super Star of Nation-image at first instance. But at the same time it is most appreciable that he maintained his Super Stardum with perfect sophistication. Being a background holder of theatre world since his student life, he never forget the artistic view of cinema world and perform in innumerable classics in commercial environment, some of which can be named as Safar, Anand, Khamosi, Red Rose, Dhanwaan, Avishakar, Bawarchi, Dushman, Haathi Mere Saathi, Avataar, Amrit, Khudai and so on. Being a main stream commercial world’s Foremost Super Star, he never dare to accept the challenging characters of non-glamorous nature and always do justice with them, as he is a perfectionist by nature (Cook, Flower saler, Hawker, Post man, Barber, Ricksha pooler, etc.). Over and above we can view his movies along with our grand father to grand children or grand mother to grand daughter.

So he is the greatest entertainer with sophistication of cinema world.

Super Star Rajesh Khanna

Super Star Rajesh Khanna

Reviewed in Rediff.com :

http://www.rediff.com/movies/2003/may/09safar.htm

Rajesh Khanna, the phenomenon

Posted in Super Star Rajesh Khanna on December 3, 2009 by manoharv2009

Rajesh Khanna, the phenomenon

 

Third Innings (1991-Till Date) In 1991, Rajesh gave up movies and entered politics. He was part of the Congress party from 1991 to 1996, and served as Member of Parliament from the New Delhi constituency.

But in politics, too, his presence did not make much of a difference, like his contemporaries, Raj Babbar and Shatrughan Sinha.

In 1991, Rishi Kapoor cast him in his directorial venture Aa Ab Laut Chale, where Rajesh played Akshaye Khanna’s father. The film did not work.

In 2001, he ventured into television, with serials like Aapne Parai and Ittefaq.

In 2006, Rajesh starred in forgettable films like Jana: Let’s fall in Love opposite Zeenat Aman.

Rumour goes that he is likely to sign more films. We wish the superstar all the love and luck.

Reviewed in rediff.com : 

http://www.rediff.com/movies/2007/dec/28sli5.htm

Super Star Rajesh Khanna

Heroines/Actress with Super Star Rajesh Khanna

Posted in Super Star Rajesh Khanna on December 2, 2009 by manoharv2009
Babita in Raaz – 1967

Rajesh Khanna, the original “Super Star”

Posted in Super Star Rajesh Khanna on December 1, 2009 by manoharv2009

By Preeti Arora . May 05, 2008

 Every generation has its share of successful actors. We had Dev Anand who was titled the ‘Evergreen Hero’. Unfortunately, considering this actor has delivered more flops than hits a catty journalist labelled him the ‘Evergreen Zero’. The ’50s had Rajendra Kumar who was also called ‘Jubilee Kumar’. But then in the late ’60s Rajesh Khanna earned himself the tag of ‘Superstar’. Many star aspirants have tried to appropriate this tag. A few films have tried to depict the perils and pitfalls of being a superstar. Yet four decades later Rajesh Khanna remains the only true superstar of Bollywood. His meteoric rise to fame has very few parallels in the world leave alone Bollywood. Rajesh Khanna was a non-entity when he entered the industry in 1964. A couple of his films despite being big banners (Raaz -GP Sippy and Baharon Ke Sapne – Nasir Hussain) had done very badly at the box-office. Nobody knows why Sharmila Tagore who was a top artist at that time agreed to work with a relative newcomer, but she did. And Aradhana happened. The rest as they say is history.

Super Star Rajesh Khanna

Posted in Super Star Rajesh Khanna on December 1, 2009 by manoharv2009

RAJESH KHANNA Bhawana Somaaya Posted online: Friday, November 29, 2002 at 0000 hours IST eing

 

 

Rajesh Khanna means two things: You’ve to be a natty dresser. And you’ve to be a real miser about your masala box. Rajesh is a fussy dresser. Wears only silk kurtas, and has suits in every imaginable colour. The masala box, is a large silver affair with half a dozen compartments, each containing a different type of masala and supari. There’s a small spoon for dipping into these compartments and an extra red-and-black potli — the fisherwoman type with strings, for holding elaichis. Well, he’s either sentimental about it all or just plain miserly, because in the nine days I followed him about, he didn’t offer me supari even once? Today, there are many visitors. The writer of Dushman Dost has come to fix shooting dates. Prem Chopra, Kaka’s good friend since Kati Patang, has come to say “hello”. Then there’s the writer of Aavishkar, whom Rajesh introduces as a man who’s matured from tender love stories to crime and violence. “What’s happened?” Rajesh demands plaintively, “Where has love and romance gone? Romance can be anything — an open window, flowers, poetry, rain, music. Today, there’s no romance. No one has time for anything but getting into bed and raping.” Rajesh Khanna He’s at an ebb. Probably his sinus is acting up. Probably something else. You can never say with Rajesh Khanna. Saturday July 22: Today is a good diary day. Rajesh Khanna’s on top of the world, ready to come out of his shell and talk. I’m flabbergasted that Khanna doesn’t drink his water from a gold or silver glass. “I don’t believe in silver or gold,” he smiles. “I believe in black and white. White is lovely but black is beautiful. I like dark women, they’re sexy. I’m not particular that a woman should be gori chitti or even curvaceous. Appeal comes from mental rapport. I have to click mentally first.” He adjusts a pillow behind his head, getting into the spirit of the conversation. “My first mate was a big tease. We’d meet behind hedges to discuss lessons. She was smarter and used to help me with my studies. Mind you, I never borrowed her notes. No copying for me. Not even in those days. When I went to meet her father to ask for her hand, he asked me if I’d be taking over my family business. When he found out that I wanted to be an actor, he showed me the door. My second relationship was in college. I never attended classes. The day I did, my professor applauded. I found the staircase and the canteen more worthwhile. Pretty girls in churidars sat with friends, on the steps. One of them was a battleaxe, and we would be at each other’s throats all the time. The whole college naturally assumed we were in love! One day, I found her sitting all alone in the canteen. I took a chair. Fifteen minutes passed, she didn’t talk. I asked her if she was well? “I’m getting engaged tomorrow,” she snapped. I asked her one question before she left. “Be honest. Were you ever in love with me?” ‘Yes’, she cried and fled. I never saw her again. He’s a closed book to most people. There are flashes of a warmer human being trapped in his star image “Everyone knows the next chapter (Anju Mahendru). But have I ever commented on it?” There were some beautiful moments in that relationship. Too bad it went sour. And then my wife, Dimpi. Dimpi and I fell in love after marriage. Nothing anyone says can break our ties. She’s matured with motherhood. She’s developed constructive habits like reading. She’s read all the best-sellers. There’s an interruption. Rajesh is summoned downstairs for the shot. It’s a scene for Dushman Dost and Rajesh and Shatru are in C.I.D. uniforms. Rajesh gets up to change. “With the young lady’s permission, of course,” he says. I excuse myself, marvelling at his sudden radiant charm. I told you, today he’s in a good mood. Monday July 24: He’s shooting at the airport for Prem Bandhan. The entire cast is present — Moushumi Chatterji, Vikram, Lalita Pawar, Rippy Singh and A.K. Hangal. It’s the usual homecoming scene. Tears, laughter, hugs and the inevitable garland! Everyone seems to be happy. Except me. It’s just not my day. I’ve had to fight my way through the massive crowd outside. When I finally land inside the building, the crowd is larger. Men, women and children are falling over themselves to get a close look at the stars. The light boys are going crazy trying to keep the mob under control and away from the lights. Suddenly the headlight boy yells at a little kid who’s standing on the wires. “Do you know you can die of an electric shock in two seconds?” Thankfully, Kaka’s man, Munna, spots me and manages to drag me out of the crowd. I’m on my way to Kaka when Moushumi shrieks, “Hiiiii!” She makes me sit beside her and asks, “How do you like my earrings?” After that, there’s no stoping her. She tells me about her husband, her house, her daughter, her trip abroad. From the corner of my eye, I notice that Kaka’s watching us coldly. Moushumi finally lets me go and I’m walking towards Kaka, when Vikram and Hangal stop me. ‘In South India,’ says Vikram, ‘we call our tea boys ‘Kaka’. But in Punjab, Kaka is used as a term of affection! “Ha, ha, ha!” I can’t get close to Rajesh now. There are some kids from Delhi who want his autograph; a middle-aged couple who request him to pose for a photograph and done and pack-up announced, the police have to be called in to clear the way for the stars. Tuesday July 25: Good things never last. Today, my last day for this diary is a real tough one, with silence, restraint and formalities. He’s switched off and is aloof again. At the photo sessions, he loosens up a bit and flashes a whole range of adorable expressions — a consummate actor. But what a strange man! After nine days, I feel as though I’ve been circling a closed shell with no doors or windows. Expecting to get a peek inside by some miracle. But that happened oh-so-few-times. He’s a closed book to most people. There are flashes of a warmer human being trapped in his star image. Today, he’s unapproachale, moody, aloof, a world unto himself. My last impression of him is the same as my first. He’s lonely. Damn, damn, damn, lonely. ************ “The best judge of an interview is always your most intimate ones. They know everything about you — your thoughts and feelings — and if what you say in print, can retain their interests, it means you have not stagnated. I remember the reactions I received for this diary. It had the ability to surprise me and those around me. Interviews are quite similar to screen performances. One identifies only with the recent ones.” (Rajesh Khanna)

 

Reviewed in Screenindia.com :

http://www.screenindia.com/old/fullstory.php?content_id=408

Super Star Rajesh Khanna’s First Love

Posted in Super Star Rajesh Khanna on December 1, 2009 by manoharv2009
The years 1969, 1970 and 1971, in which the Rajesh Khanna craze swept the country like wildfire

   

The years 1969, 1970 and 1971, in which the Rajesh Khanna craze swept the country like wildfire, will always be remembered because nothing quite like this mass hysteria ever happened in movie history before.

Aradhana”, “Ittefaq”, “Do Raaste”, “Sachaa Jhutha”, “Safar”, “Aan Milo Sajna,” “Anand”, “Kati Patang”, “Andaz” and “Haathi Mere Saathi” – with bewildering rapidity these films not only became tremendous successes, but they set off and perpetuated a craze that engulfed young and old alike, and hypnotised the entire nation into the sort of concentrated mass adulation which has been afforded, for brief periods, to only one or two other actors before him.

Much has happened in the last few event-crammed years. The craze of the Super Star was momentarily dimmed by some flops in 1972 and 1973. Yet, in this period he had such hits as “Amar Prem”, “Aan Milo Sajna” and “Dushman”.

Talking about himself, Rajesh Khanna says: ‘I was born, an only child to my parents, eighteen years after their marriage, on December 29, 1942. When I was two years old, I was taken to a little village called Dhamalpur, to our ancestral Gods’ temple and named Jatindra, though nobody has ever called me anything but Kaka ever since then.

Though we belonged to a well to do family in Amritsar, my early years were spent in Bombay. My mother explained– “One day there arose some misunderstanding between your father and your aunt. So he took us away from there and brought us to Bombay. Though I was born in a wealthy family, your father was too proud to take any help from anybody.
When we came to Bombay all we could afford was a one-tenement room in a chawl at Thakurdwar. There was no money. There was only your father’s determination. And his hard work. He would have his one cup of tea in the morning and go to work. He had started his own business and had to slog day and night for it.

He never came for his afternoon meal, so on those days I too would skip eating in the afternoons. We have gone through very hard times, son. But in that chawl room which your father and I made a home, in that room, son, I learned the meaning of life…’

Daag” has set the graph zooming upwards again for Rajesh Khanna, but the one woman who remains unfazed in Rajesh Khanna’s memory even now, the woman who taught him life, happens to be no more.

Her arms were always a refuge for me from the fearful, unknown world. I would rest my head on her bosom and shut my eyes. And magically, all my problems, my fears, would vanish into thin air. Yes. She was my mother, the first love of my life..’

As the first one fazed away, leaving him only to love her in his memories, another stepped in, as though guided by destiny to become his wife and the mother of his children – yes, the second one, Dimple, was on her way by then!

Reproduced from the original article published in Cine Blitz. Copyrights exclusively owned by VJM Media Pvt. Ltd.

 

 

Reviewed in CineBlitz :

http://www.vjmmedia.com/cineblitz/yesteryears/articles/0807/08/1080708005_1.htm

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