On Jaya Bachchan’s birthday, revisiting her riveting reel chemistry with husband Amitabh Bachchan

[ad_1]

Ab toh hai tumse

Har khushi apni

Tum pe marna hai

Zindagi apni…

Majrooh Sultanpuri’s lines poetically capture the enduring bond between B-town’s First Couple… Jaya and Amitabh Bachchan. Young Jaya Bhaduri first set eyes on Amitabh at the FTII, which he had visited with Saat Hindustani (1969) director, Khwaja Ahmed Abbas. While most dismissed his lanky presence, poet Harivanshrai Bachchan’s son cast a tall impression on Jaya. Sometime later, Amitabh was signed opposite Jaya in her debut Guddi (1971), a narrative of a fangirl. But on second thoughts director Hrishikesh Mukherjee, who was also directing Amitabh in Anand (1971), wanted an unseen face opposite his schoolgirl heroine. So, Samit Bhanja was roped in.

Destiny, adamant to get them together, scripted their pairing in Prakash Verma’s Bansi Birju and B.R. Ishaara’s Ek Nazar, both in 1972. While Bansi Birju was a tepid tale, the lyrical Ek Nazar is remembered… Patta patta boota boota in particular. Majrooh built on Mir Taqi Mir’s couplet to create a contemporary loved ballad. The dramatic turnaround came in 1973. Zanjeer finally validated Amitabh, its success enabling Jaya and him to walk up the garden path. Since then, the two have featured in several films, their onscreen ease unmistakable each time.

Revisiting their romantic rendezvous on reel:

Zanjeer (1973)

Story goes that Jaya Bhaduri, who was riding the crest then, accepted the small part in Zanjeer, to bolster beau Amitabh Bachchan awaiting that elusive hit. Prakash Mehra’s actioner introduced the ‘angry young man’ smashing the time-worn mould of the Hindi hero.  A tale of simmering angst against the holocaust of a tormented childhood, Salim-Javed’s Zanjeer, however, has subtle romance at its periphery. Cop Vijay (Amitabh), at first, is irked by chakku chooriwali Maya’s (Jaya) connivance with the killer goons. But as she drops her guard and shows her vulnerability, he thaws. Both lonely, find solace in each other.

Maya discourages Vijay from choosing violence to counter violence. Realising later that her dream castle cannot rest on the demons of his past, she urges him to go ahead and find closure. The film is dotted with tender moments between them. Like when she revamps her jejune personality and acquires a decorous stance to suit him. When she says ‘Bye bye’ to Vijay, showing off her newly acquired polish. When she visits him in jail, where he’s unjustly incarcerated. When she urges him to avenge his persecution… Zanjeer released in May ’73. Jaya and Amitabh tied the knot in June ’73 at the behest of father/poet Harivanshrai Bachchan, before they left for London – their first foreign trip.

Abhimaan (1973)

Hrishikesh Mukherji’s tale of love and estrangement remains a momentous musical. Originally titled Raag Ragini, it was said that Abhimaan was based on the real-life story of Pandit Ravi Shankar and his first wife, Annapurna Devi, considered a superior sitar player. Film historian Raju Bharatan, however, stated that Hrishida based Abhimaan on singer Kishore Kumar and his first wife, the talented Ruma Ghosh. Nonetheless, the film revolves around male ego and how it can deface the professional and emotional wellbeing of a more talented partner.

Pop singer Subir (Amitabh) is drawn towards Uma’s (Jaya) earthy charm and musical talent. Post marriage, an idealistic Subir pledges that they will always sing together… until Uma’s competence begins to outshine his popularity. Abhimaan takes you through a gamut of emotions – the first blush of romance, the first flush of marriage, pride and prejudice and later a tearful denouement. Majrooh Sultanpuri’s lyrics and SD Burman’s tunes are catalysts to the narrative. The growing intimacy between a married couple (Teri bindiya re), the initial playfulness (Loote koi man ka nagar), devotion and deification (Ab toh hai tumse har khushi apni), reverberation of rancour (Piya bina) and the ‘watershed’ (Tere mere milan ki yeh raina) … the Abhimaan soundtrack can make an entire generation nostalgic.

Expressing hurt with brimming eyes, a drop of the mouth, loaded silences… Jaya was about masterful underplay. Kanjeevarams (most of them reportedly gifted to her by Amitabh), mangalsutra and sindoor… the much-married look alluded to the coming-of-age Jaya. Released on 27 July, 1973, soon after their marriage, the popularity of the postcard couple zoomed to its zenith after Abhimaan. Interestingly, the climax scene was shot after their marriage. As Subir protectively escorts Uma through the cheering crowds… it signalled a new note in life for the duo on screen and off it…

Mili (1975)

Released on 20 June, 1975, Mili, was a Hrishikesh Mukherjee family entertainer with a tragic turn. Neighbours Mili (Jaya) and Shekhar (Amitabh) are at loggerheads. He can’t stand her frenzy and she can’t fathom his frost. But after her father (Ashok Kumar) and she rush to help an inebriated and injured Shekhar, things begin to melt between them. In her admonishment, “Baithe rahiye chup chaap! Aap koi laad saab nahin hai jo jab chahe shor machaayenge…” an erring Shekhar senses concern. He tells his loyal help, “Gopi, bahut dinon baat baad daanth khayee re…mazaa aagaya!” dropping his head near Mili’s lap, leaving her moist- eyed.

From then on, the equation builds on trust and togetherness. A reticent Shekhar is able to exorcize the trauma of his childhood and the controversial deaths of his parents. Noteworthy are the scenes, which trace their romance as they gaze at the stars through Shekhar’s telescope. Love is in their stars too. Their romance continues through the flowers and notes Shekhar sends across when Mili is unwell. The highpoint is the scene when Shekhar tells a terminally ill Mili that he’s getting married to someone. Her eyes well up, first with distress and then with happiness for him, knowing that she won’t be around for long. When she realises it’s her whom he wants to wed, she cried, “Main bhi jeena chahti hoon!” a heart-wrenching revelation from a woman, who doesn’t wish to quit right on the threshold of her dreams.

Har pal mann mera mujh se kehta hai

Jiski dhun mein tu khoya rehta hai

Bhar de phoolon se usska daaman…

In keeping with the lines, Shekhar flies her to Switzerland in the hope of sophisticated medical treatment and for those moments lived in love in the twilight of Mili’s life. Lyricist Yogesh and composer SD Burman created the mood templates of the film. Maine kaha phoolon se is about Mili’s vivacity, Badi sooni sooni hai sounds the melancholic background score of Shekhar’s life just as Aaye tum yaad mujhe pre-empts the dark horizon.

Sholay (1975)

Every character in Ramesh Sippy’s marathon Sholay has iconic dialogue to associate him/her with. But Jaya as Radha is remembered for her silence. The extremes in her character are captured between two Holis in the film. One when she, as an unmarried girl, is coloured with vibrance. And the other when as a widow she stands on the mandir steps, watching the village drenched in celebration, her life swathed in white.

The Jaya-Amitabh track is the shortest track in Ramesh Sippy’s 75 mm canvas yet a subliminal one. The unspoken love between lawbreaker Jai (Amitabh) and ill-starred Radha (Jaya) betrays eloquence. He lends colour to her bare life – Jai riding a buffalo brings a hesitant smile on Radha’s forlorn face. He playing the mouthorgan as she puts off the lamps at night stirs notes of love in her. She shedding protocol to break down at his death… the Jaya-Amitabh subplot in Sholay merits a narrative by itself. Sholay is also special because Jaya was carrying their firstborn Shweta during its shoot.

Silsila (1981)

The extramarital tale, with alleged real-life echoes, was a casting coup. For director Yash Chopra, it held a promise of unprecedented footfalls. For Amitabh, perhaps, it meant a career recharge. For Rekha, a platform to poeticize the ‘other woman’. And for Jaya, a corroboration that commitment trumps passion, that marriage is a bond, not bondage.

Though her marriage to poet Amit (Amitabh) in the film is an emotional compromise, Sudha (Jaya) grows to love him. Their ambivalent onscreen relationship is in sharp contrast to his red-hot chemistry with muse Chandni (Rekha). While Jaya, known for her simple sarees and casual looks, was at her glamorous best (given it was a Yash Chopra film) in select sarees and blow-dried tresses, the therav in her take was unmistakable.

While Amit justifies his walking away from her with the lines, “Waqt ke saath har rishta apni taaseer kho deta hai,” she has only faith to cling to. Faith in their vows. When during the climax Amit says, “Sudha main aagaya hoon… Tum meri patni hoon… Yehi sach hai baaki sab jhooth!” it resonated a homecoming. It’s said that a reluctant Jaya signed on the dotted line only because the resolution of the film hit home… literally.

Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham (2001)

The role required Jaya to don Manish Malhotra sarees, designer jewellery and even hazel lenses. But she will be remembered more for playing the compliant Nandini Raichand, who eventually stands up to her monocratic husband for her son.

The Jaya-Amitabh reel equation revelled in an ease that comes with years of togetherness. The extemporaneity was evident when she chides him for his unchecked flirting. When she pulls a stool and stands on it to knot his tie. When she finally has the last word, “Jo kehdiya so kehdiya!” That she won the Filmfare Best Supporting Actress Award doesn’t surprise.

FOOTNOTE:

Life comes full circle for the spouses in R. Balki’s Ki & Ka (2016), where Jaya and Amitabh play themselves. The debate on gender parity and career choices between the superstar and his wife throws the spotlight on their domestic equation, tempered with mutual respect, individuality and identity.

Also Read: Abhishek Bachchan reveals Jaya Bachchan’s ‘honest’ reaction after watching Dasvi



[ad_2]

Source link

Related posts

Parineeti Chopra-Raghav Chadha Wedding: Cameras, 100 guards; Tight venue security – Report

Anupam Kher on losing interest in comedy 1

Disha Patani dazzles in a white co-ord with crop top and thigh-high slit skirt 1