In so many ways it feels like I was gone for a long time, and yet the time in India sped by too. It was a wonderful trip thanks to Raju, who facilitated my movie adventures and is in the midst of making a film which I just can’t wait to see; and my new Bengali “family”—Suhan, her friend Gautam, and their relatives, who all showed me that incredibly warm hospitality that Indians are justly famous for. I made new friends and met old ones; explored more of India’s rich history in Hyderabad, Delhi and Calcutta; and discovered the unspoiled beauty of the Sundarbans forest. And of course one of my fondest dreams came true!
Are you a Shammi Kapoor fan?
The Institute for Near Eastern and African Studies (INEAS) is producing a documentary film called “Professor Shammi & Lady Asha.” The Insititute’s Founding Director, with whom I’ve become acquainted (see her interviews with Shammi here and here), is directing this film about him and Asha Parekh, and is looking for volunteers to participate.
She has also met Asha, and you can read accounts of her travels in India on her blog here.
If you love Shammi (or Asha, or both!), and are interested in talking to her you can leave a comment here or send her an email: INEAS at aol dot com. Some volunteers will participate in a discussion that will be incorporated in the film. Please respond to INEAS by March 16.
Jawan Mohabbat (1971)
Whenever a “new” old Shammi film finally appears (with subtitles) on DVD there is much joy and celebration in the Memsaab household, tail-wagging (Gemma) and jumping up and down (me) and so on. If Asha Parekh is his co-star along with Pran, the celebration is even more prolonged. Sadly, there is no Helen; and despite her looming presence on the DVD cover (and in the cast list) no Mumtaz either, but these are minor issues in the face of heretofore unseen Shammi. Shammi, Shammi, Shammi!
And happily, the first half of this film is quintessential early sixties Shammi-style frothy fun, as he bombards a reluctant and feisty Asha with his mischievous charm and romantic songs. But then everything turns suddenly dark, with death and blackmail looming large, and levels of gloom, self-pity and self-sacrifice rarely seen even by the most devoted Hindi cinema fan (me again). If you don’t mind a little movie multiple personality disorder, then you can probably tolerate it. If you prefer a logical narrative without completely over-the-top dramatics…then you probably aren’t reading this anyway.
Geeta Bali

It’s hard to believe that the vivacious and beautiful Geeta Bali has been gone for more than 44 years now. She passed away on January 21, 1965 at the age of 35, from smallpox. Filmfare had a lovely tribute to her (with photos they had taken shortly before her death) a few weeks after that.
Desh Premee (1982)

I would be hard-pressed to choose my favorite Manmohan Desai film were I ever forced to. But Desh Premee would be near the top of the list. I loved this film; once again the great director has given us a sprawling and complex story encompassing themes of compassion, unity, justice, patriotism, faith and love. He uses leprosy both as a metaphor for the corruption eating away at his country, and as a message of non-exclusion, and the unwavering courage and integrity of Masterji both destroys his happiness and saves his loved ones at the end. There are many moments of humor and silliness, of course, but the movie’s overall tone is quite serious as compared to some of his other work.
I think I’ve finally put my finger on why I love Desai’s films so much. Like me he has a cynic’s view of the world; and also like me, a romantic soul underlying that cynicism. That juxtaposition between often harsh reality and what we wish were real instead is present in all his work, and he always lets the “wishing” side win. Even when the ending is somewhat sad (like Roti) we are still left with a sense of hope. Plus, his imagery and plots are just so FAB.
Boy Friend (1961)

Although filmed in black and white, this film has a lot of sparkle: the songs by Shankar Jaikishan, the effervescent Madhubala, shiny-scrubbed baby-faced young Dharmendra, and of course my very own favorite sparkly person Shammi Kapoor. It also has astonishing coincidences and large plot holes, and despite a strong beginning the plot becomes incoherent at times by the end; but with long-lost children, a stolen necklace and sweet, sweet romance it’s heartwarming *and sparkly* enough to watch anyway, especially if you are a Shammi fan.
Movie Mahal: Manmohan Desai

My friend Asli Jat has done it again! He has sent me this episode of a 1987 series aired on Channel 4 in the UK called Movie Mahal (produced and directed by Nasreen Munni Kabir) and what a treat it is! It’s all about the “Miracle Man” Manmohan Desai—one of my favorite filmmakers, as anybody who’s spent any time here probably knows. He is interviewed, as is Amitabh Bachchan, and the interviews are interspersed with song clips from many of his films. I thought I’d put together a post with audio clips and screen shots since people enjoyed that format for the Bombay Superstar documentary so much. Manmohan Desai is a great deal of fun to listen to; he’s as intense and enthusiastic about his work as you could ever hope for! He calls himself a “dream merchant”—and breaks into song every now and again as well.
My ten favorite rain songs

The title of this post really should be “My nine favorite rain songs and one rain scene” but—too long! The rains have a special place in Hindi cinema, as many before me have pointed out. I have always loved rain and thunderstorms, and I am determined to someday run around some trees in a (not transparent) sari as it pours down rain. Until that day dawns, though, I’ll settle for watching the cinematic rain fall.
So here are my nine favorite rain songs and one favorite rain scene! I have selected them based on how much I like the song, the picturization and its place in the film (I’m only using songs from films I’ve seen, not so much because I’m a purist but to make my task easier). And of course in my own selfish interests I can’t wait to find out about others that I haven’t encountered yet (hint, hint). Enjoy!
Jeevan Jyoti (1952)
Shammi, Shammi, Shammi…*shaking head in dismay*…why? why? There is a genre in Hindi cinema which I have privately dubbed the Red Mist Movie, because watching one causes a red mist of fury to rise in front of my eyes (which fortunately obscures the film itself). These films are pretty much the only Hindi movies that I simply can’t sit through. Once I reach the Red Mist point, I’m done. I am sad to report—indeed, it pains me a lot to say it—Shammi has been in one such film, and in case you haven’t figured it out yet, this is it.


