I’m going back to rewatch some of the first Rajesh Khanna films I ever got. He is one of the first actors from the older generation that I became interested in, after I saw him in the inimitable Disco Dancer and thought him very charming (especially in contrast to the dreadful Sam and Mr. Oberoi and unbearable Mama’s boy Jimmy). He didn’t maintain my interest at the time, possibly because there was so much else to distract me (Shammi! Pran! Helen!), but I’m so glad I’ve rediscovered him.
Aap Ki Kasam is a very emotional story which alternately enraged me and then made me cheer, and it isn’t one of those “happily ever after” films you sort of expect from 70s Bollywood. It highlights several of Rajesh Khanna’s finer qualities: he picked unusual films and scripts—with unusual roles for a “hero”—and he didn’t mind sharing screen space with equally adept actors like Sanjeev Kumar.
RD Burman’s music (I understand from other fans that Khanna was always very involved with the music of his films too) is fabulous as well. I especially love the exuberant song “Jai Jai Shiv Shankar.”
Kamal (Rajesh Khanna) is a senior student who is very serious about his studies, and doesn’t socialize much. He is from a village hours away, where his father has a farm. He meets Sunita (Mumtaz), the daughter of a rich city barrister, through a misunderstanding. When it’s cleared up, an intense romance develops.
The screen fairly sizzles sometimes in scenes between these two!
Their respective families approve, and Kamal finds a job and a house with the help of his long-time close friend Mohan (Sanjeev Kumar). Mohan lives in the house next door with his estranged wife (his was an arranged marriage, and they can’t stand each other, sadly) and his servant Kanhaiyalal (Keshto Mukherjee at his drunken best).
[Side note: subtitle pet peeve = SMS-speak like “U” instead of “you.” Urgh. Is rampant throughout this. End side note.]
Kamal and Sunita are married and settle into their new home and their life together like the deliriously happy newlyweds they are.
Mohan, being unhappy with his home life and thrilled to have his close friend nearby, soon becomes a fixture in the house too. Sunita feels sorry for him, having witnessed his wife’s shrewish behavior (he isn’t very nice to her either, to be fair) and she sees how much Kamal loves him. She welcomes him with an open heart and they are soon friends.
Then the rot creeps in. Kamal becomes jealous of his friend, at first only in a joking way.
But as the days pass, his suspicions begin to grow (with, I must say, no good reason, which is what enrages me). He catches them *gasp* having coffee together! Mohan stubs out his cigarettes in their ashtray when he is there!
When Mohan throws a welcome party for them, Kamal asks Sunita to sing and she refuses; but when Mohan starts to play his sitar, she is drawn into singing along with him.
This really infuriates Kamal, who gets stinking drunk. From then on, he withdraws from her more and more. He behaves, in short, like a spoiled and surly child. Poor Sunita! She has no idea what has happened and he refuses to talk to her, although she reaches out to him tentatively.
Then one evening as he arrives home, he spots a man leaping over the wall between their house and Mohan’s, and he snaps. He accuses Sunita of “providing the love” that Mohan doesn’t get from his wife. As his behavior is finally explained, Sunita is furious (I cheer—she doesn’t fold up and die, but gets good and mad—yay Sunita)! She angrily refuses to dignify his suspicions with any answers.
She packs her bag and goes home to her parents, where she finally breaks down. Mohan comes to see Kamal that same evening and Kamal voices his accusations again and slaps him. Mohan is hurt, but more magnanimous than Sunita.
Kamal pays no heed to Mohan’s protestations of innocence. Sunita’s father (Rehman) also comes to try and talk sense into Kamal, but again, he refuses to listen.
When he returns home, Sunita’s mother (Dina Pathak) is persuading Sunita to go and talk to Kamal. Sunita herself doesn’t want to give up on Kamal yet, but her father furiously forbids her to go.
I love love love Rehman, but now I am enraged again. Who made him the decider? Why doesn’t Sunita get to control her own life? She follows her father’s diktat, though. Mohan comes and asks Sunita to tie a rakhi on him to help convince Kamal of their innocence, but her father rebuffs that idea too. He sends a divorce notice to Kamal in an attempt to make Kamal come to them, but Kamal calls his bluff and the divorce goes through.
Sunita is heartbroken, her life in ruins—thanks to all that male pride! She is hospitalized from the stress.
Months pass, and then again one evening Kamal sees a man jumping the fence between his and Mohan’s property. He gives chase, and catches Suresh (Ranjeet)—a fellow employee and friend. Suresh admits that he’s having an affair with Mohan’s wife, and tells Kamal that he set fire to his own house with his suspicions about Sunita and Mohan.
Repentant, Kamal asks forgiveness first from Mohan, who gladly grants it. Then he goes to Sunita’s house, where he receives shocking news.
Sunita’s father has gotten Sunita remarried, despite reluctance on her part.
Suck on that, Kamal!
He is heartbroken, but you’ll have to watch to find out what happens to him. When the film ended, I rolled my eyes at my sister and said “What a terrible movie.” She said, “Yes, but he was good in it.” And in fact it wasn’t a terrible movie; I guess for its time it even had a somewhat liberated message—just not quite liberated enough to make me happy. Plus, I hate sad endings.
I was severely annoyed by Kamal’s stupidity and childish jealousy, and Sunita’s father’s stubbornness and patriarchal interference. The screenplay took the marriage from bright and happy to troubled and dark a little too easily for my liking, too, but Khanna did his best to transition his character with more shading than the script really gave him room for. I enjoyed his performance, and his chemistry with Mumtaz. She and Sanjeev Kumar were great support for him too.
MemsaabStory 