I did my post grads in Bio-Technology and as a part of my practical education, did a part of my internship in LTMMC, Bombay. While working in that hospital, for the first time after a long period, my heart, that had long since banished the remembrances of my childhood as a nightmare fit to be forgotten, encountered endless rows of numbers masquerading as patients – each of them neatly arranged in batches of ghostly faces wrapped up in white linen and neatly stacked on dirty unkempt beds, suffering from the different forms of Cancer – an affliction that was both dreaded and feared by India of the 2000s. Some also slept on the floors and often traveling through the ward itself was a challenge worthy of the bravest and the calmest.
Their eyes were hollow, as if hope – that eternal beast that makes life bearable had forsaken them, the smile that makes the world go around had faded away, the innocence and desire that makes life worth living had either left them or had been banished from their collective consciousness to distant lands; lands from where there is no return and all that has remained in those bodies was a distinct hollowness, a sort of nonchalance that comes from knowing that it’s all lost and death will come and claim us soon.
But still in the midst of this lost demeanour, the hunger to live for that one extra second still remained and kept those souls trying to push their luck for just that one extra minute more, just a second more, just an hour more. That greed of redemption, of an escape was strong enough to make them shoulder on in a frustrated pursuit of yet another day but as the new day would inevitably bring with it nothing and end like the day before and before, the night would get darker and lonelier and the pain would get deeper.
And thinking about these sufferers of the night, I am suddenly transported to that night in 1986 when a grandchild kept looking at the last laboured breaths of a loved grandmother, unknowing that this meeting would be the last one and that they would never meet again (well – at least not on this plane) and this illness that claimed the grandmother could come back yet again much later to claim another one. There was no fun in that night – there is no fun in today’s night too – the sceptre of death is not that easy to forget and move on – just imagine then that there are people who laugh it off – as effortlessly as if it was smoke from a lit cigarette that wafted across and went off, on it’s way to the heavens. Strange but True!
All of us try to live our Life the way we want to; even though Life is not an easy customer and often it forces us to live life as per his whims and fancies, as per her dictates; but how many of us can actually dare to live Life the way it’s supposed to be lived? How many of us can stare at Death and smile at it’s rugged face and still go on doing what they would normally do, even under the ever-increasing Shadow of Death? Maybe that’s the reason why the day of one’s death is a closely guarded secret even from the greatest of the astrologers and even legendary magicians in myths and tales around the world have tried their best to fool that most certain of all realities.
Not many I guess can then face Death and die on their terms and conditions… In fact I can very well count the few I know on my fingers and even then my fingers would seem to be a surplus.
Of course I can count on good old Anand, that evergreen legendary character from that great movie by the same name. If anything, that optimistic outlook is Anand’s greatest contribution to Indian Film Industry. Anand is a must-watch for all who wish to know how to live. If Anand did nothing but smile at Death as he did and had no other reason to exist, even then Anand would be immortal. How I wish I could be like Anand when my time comes!
Anand is a sweet film, devoid of violence, sex, heavy drama and all such formulae which make for a successful potboiler; in fact if you look at it closely all that it has is a simple story which does not have any twists, no turns, no menacing villains, no scheming vamps, no leering Casanovas and no buxom belle baring either their upper or lower torso, all that makes a film a super-duper hit is just not there but I have no doubts that when history shall decide on the greatest movies ever made in India, Anand will definitely merit more than a mention. In fact, it will merit a whole chapter or section and then more. In fact, Anand remains to date one of the only 5 movies, which managed to bring tears to my eyes while watching the classic but doomed end of the movie.
To put it in a nutshell, Anand is an insight into the last days in the life of a young man, Anand (Rajesh Khanna) and his positive and vibrant attitude towards life, in the face of sure and irreversible death. It also brings out in clear contrast the stark differences between an optimistic and pessimistic outlook towards life as evidenced by the contrasting characters of it’s two main protagonists - one (Anand) on his deathbed but still gung-ho about living life to it’s fullest and the other (Dr Bhaskar) in full prime of health but still brooding and depressed – nothing could be more contrasting in it’s approach. Maybe the director wanted to clearly point out the joys of having an optimistic outlook towards life.
On an equal ground, Anand along with Tere Mere Sapney (1970), is one of the earliest movies to recount the dilemma of the doctors who have taken the Hippocratic oath – an oath that expects them to behave like demigods whereas the hunger that stirs in and the desires that are a part of a man ask him to be a little more practical in his or her decisions in life. So on one hand, we have the idealistic Dr. Bhaskar who only thinks in idealistic terms and refuses to see the world in anything except black and white and on the other, we have Dr. Prakash Kulkarni who is true to his oath but does not mind flinching from his rich patients to serve a few poor ones.
Rajesh Khanna as Anand performs the role of a lifetime. The first superstar of Indian Cinema in his heydays when his name spelled success and his touch equaled Midas, gave Indian Cinema some of it’s most endearing movies (Aradhana, Anand, Kati Patang, Amar Prem, Roti, Dushman etc) – no other star has made so many beautiful movies in so short a span ( 1969 – 1974) and still made them all memorable – it is here for this phenomenal touch that Rajesh Khanna scores over the two greatest superstars of Hindi Cinema - Dilip Kumar and Amitabh Bachchan
Anand was a role that required a degree of self-consciousness for it’s only self-consciousness that can give man the confidence to perform such a loud, at times irritating and at times frustrating character in such a manner that it endears himself to one and all. To Anand, Rajesh brings an earnestness not normally seen in movies. The scene wherein he gets Bhaskar to accept his silent love for the girl and then the way in which he interferes in their first date by forcing himself on the date makes one angry. I would have killed him had he dared to plonk himself in my first date with my love. Another scene that makes me go bonkers is when he goes ahead and calls every stranger – Muraari Laal – one of the best scenes in the movie.
The pain that he suffers silently and hides gracefully is a thing to be admired and respected. Anand is singularly his proudest achievement as an actor and will always remind us of his greatness even after the man is gone and done with. Who can forget that great piece of dialogue – “Babu Moshaiye, Zindagi Badi Honi Chaahiye, Lambi Nahin”
Amitabh Bachchan excels in his role of the brooding and deeply pessimistic Dr. Bhaskar. The frustration of the character, trying his best to come at terms with his own impotence and helplessness when confronted with the grim realities of life is so well portrayed that even you can feel his agony both in his silence and in his speech.
The most powerful scene in the movie is the scene where Anand demands to know about his sickness and Bhaskar lashes out at him, only to be shocked at his mature understanding and deft but playful handling of his own ill fate.
Dr. Bhaskar – Jaanna Chaahte Ho Tumhein Kya Hua Hai? Agar Main Tumse Kahoon Ke Tumhein Lymphosarcoma of the Large Intestine Hua Hai To Kya Samjhoge Tum? Bolo?
Anand – Shayad Yehi Ki Mujhe Cancer Hai Aur Mere Paas Jeene Ke Liye Bahot Kam Waqt Hai
What does one say about an interaction that is as profound as this – confrontations are not easy to film or perform and when the actors happen to be great proponents of two different schools of acting, it’s like a meeting between Kiong Richard III and Saladin – impressive and majestic and this happens to be one of my favourite top 10 confrontations in the history of Hindi Cinema and one that shows bigger sense of purpose than drama.
This one scene along with the Murari Lal scene remains etched in my memory, although it has been years since I saw this movie.
Ramesh Deo scores as the pragmatic Dr Prakash. This was one of his few positive roles and he does a good job of it. Ramesh Deo was an actor-par-excellence from Marathi Cinema who never got his due and spent most of his life in Hindi Cinema doing only side roles. This is one of the few films in which he had a chance to hold out in face of such strong actors as Amitabh Bachchan and Rajesh Khanna. His interactions with his wife Seema Deo, a brilliant actress in her own right and their little domestic squabbles make for interesting viewing. Look out for him in the initial scenes where he tries to exhort Bhaskar to be a little more practical in his approach and stop being so idealistic.
Another actor who makes his mark is the versatile Johnny Walker, who in a small cameo role manages to sweep us off our feet. Johnny Walker was one of the greatest comedians of Indian Cinema and literally ruled comedy for a long period. As a comedian, Johnny unlike his great rival Mehmood never did a role that had tragic proportions – maybe this was where Mehmood overrode him as a comedian but Anand is one of those few movies in which Johnny (though reluctantly) gives free flow to his emotions – this is one of the only two movies that I remember of wherein Johnny cried or had tears in his eyes – the other one being Madhumati.
Only an actor of Johnny Walker’s calibre could have handled a scene as deft as the Muraari Lal scene. This is one of the sweetest ever scenes and I advise every student of cinema to watch this scene at least once while studying cinema.
Lalita Pawar who once again excels in her role as the strict disciplinarian matron of Ramesh Deo’s ward. Every time I see her perform, I am reminded of my grandma. She used to be just like her – a tough nut from outside and a soft heart from inside. I really miss her a lot.
Asit Sen as the hypochondriac patient and Dara Singh as the wrestler provide comic relief in their small roles. Sumita Sanyal, an intelligent actress from Bengali Cinema was roped in to play the role of Amitabh Bachchan’s love interest and she plays her role with characteristic subdue. Sadly, her role could have been developed better. Durga Khote on the other hand is soft but plays her role quite well.
Salil Chaudhary weaves an exceptionally good musical score with some of the philosophical tracks really making you wait and think about the fleeting nature of life. This was a sort of a comeback for the legendary composer who was almost unavailable from the scene for a long time.
Each and every song is a gem and made a super star out of the lyricists – Gulzar and Yogesh. Whether it’s Manna De with his philosophical take on life in ‘Zindagi Kaisi Hai Paheli Hai’ or Mukesh remembering his past with “Kahin Door Jab Din Dhal Jaaye’ or the one song that most signifies the movie “Maine Tere Liye”, each and every song is a delight.
Chhoti Chhoti Baaton Ki Hai Yaadein Badi,
Bhoole Nahin Biteyee Huiyee Ek Chotti Ghadi
This is what Anand is all about – ‘Chhoti-Chhoti Baatein’ and their impact on life.
Hrishikesh Mukherjee manages to tell a story devoid of the usual parameters but still manages to make a point. This movie is an example of a master at work. At no point of time does the movie look preachy or boring. The best part is that it manages to convey the meaning without even seeming to do so.
His directorial ability lies in the fact that a simple idiom of life has been given a pulsating meaning of it’s own and vibrates with a resonance unmatched. Undoubtedly, he is a great director.
The ability to present simple things on a cinematic canvas is his greatest ability and there have hardly been any directors who have able to make masterpieces out of seemingly trivial things of everyday life.
The great Frank Capra once said – “Tragedy is not what moves the actors; it’s what moves the Audience”. If this is what is the truth of a tragedy is all about, Anand not only passes the test but passes it with flying colours.
Anand is more than a movie; it’s a statement of life.
Majrooh, and put to tunes by the underrated Khayaam and sung by the man with the velvety voice - the man whose voice was so silky that even Dhaka Muslin would have found itself worth nothing when compared to it's sweet, soft and painful voice - it was the voice of the great Talat Mehmood. No song can be more heart-breakingly so beautiful when it has to be so painful
