New Delhi: What is stardom? The great Marlon Brando defined it best as something that runs counter to great acting. “They demand different and contradictory attributes. An actor’s most priceless gift is range. A star’s, an identifiable niche in the public mind; an image, persona to which the audience can forever relate. Thus, an Actor-Star is a constant conflict, a two-front war. As the actor stretches, the star retracts.”
Rajesh Khanna had no problem with this definition, because, basically, he defied, challenged and rose above everything in the book. At a time when charisma and established reputation (Dilip-Dev-Raj) ruled and the hero was mostly North-Indian, fair tall, handsome and well-built (Shammi, Rajendra, Dharam, Manoj, Feroz), this nothing-from-nowhere, unsung and unheralded, short, pimply-faced, non-entity whose only modest claim to fame was being a winner of United Producers Talent Hunt contest, did nothing to catch fire. Sure, critics – the discerning ones – noted a certain brooding quality as early as ‘Aakhri Khat’, but neither that non-starter, nor the subsequent ‘Raaz’ and ‘Baharon Ke Sapne’ gave anyone, any indication of what was to come.
As everyone and his cock-eyed aunt must know, it was the sleeper hit, Shakti Samanta’s ‘Aradhana’ that struck in tsunami fashion, rocketing him to a different stratosphere. Suddenly, almost overnight, every other hero – save Garam Dharam – went flying out of the window, with every major leading man role from every leading banner first offered to him, before going to someone else. As Mahesh Bhatt rightly stated, “For those few years, he was god and his fans and producers, his devotees.”
Frankly, India of the late 60’s was totally unprepared for Rajesh Khanna. The Film Industry, blown out of their mind, christened him Superstar. Stardust, the new iconoclastic, irreverent and deliciously ‘chatpata’ new film magazine on the block, baptized him the Phenomenon and sold out its maiden issue within days just via banners enquiring whether Rajesh has married his girl friend (of that time) Anju Mahendru?
As a cub journo, starting out, a card-carrying Bollywood junkie and one who enjoyed a ringside seat to the goings-on in B-town, I can only say that one had to experience the Rajesh-wave to fully understand its impact. It was truly unbelievable. No Dilip, Raj, Dev, Shammi, Rajendra … or later Big B or the Khans … can ever hope to match it for the sheer passion and intensity that powered it.
It was mass-hysteria on a continuous over-drive, associated normally with rock-stars of the iconic stature of Elvis, Beatles, Rolling Stones and Michael Jackson.
In his golden time (early 70’s) it would’ve been a joy to be any one of his cars because they were unfailingly smeared with lipstick imprints. His photographs were good enough for tons of infatuated female fans to marry. Letters, written in blood, comprised a part of his fan-mail. Every single day, every single studio in Mumbai had hordes of fans hoping to catch of their beloved Kaka. It was ‘hungama’ and ‘hulchul’ all the way … the likes of which SRK or Salman can never ever hope to match.
So, what was the secret of this Superstar, who rolled out a record-breaking 15 consecutive hits, swung so seductively with Mumtaz and Sharmila – most popular pairing – as also, Hema, Shabana, Rekha …? Co-star Shabana Azmi thinks it’s that amazing blend of “Super-star distancing, moods, eccentricities and attitude with total grounded-ness, accessibility and warmth, especially to his fans. It created a persona and aura that was seductively enigmatic and certainly worked superbly for him. Personally, however, I found him a wonderful, charming and co-operative leading man. And yes, everything you hear about the mass-hysteria is right. I’ve seen it in action.”
Media Commentator and Founding Editor of Stardust, Shobha De believes he was an idea whose time had come. “The oldies were fading. The other guys weren’t doing anything spectacular. Rajesh, with his winsome smile, nodding head, blinking eyes, innocent sweet charm and completely non-threatening, non-macho looks brilliantly epitomized unadulterated romance. He was unlike most of the other heroes – someone you wanted as a son, brother, lover, husband; someone you could happily take home to meet mom. This was a whole new number.
“Others believe he was a true game-changer, playing out, in fairy tale fashion, the middle-class dream – love, loyalty, family values, bonding – in an age of innocence, slowly dying out. Rajesh, they insist, represented the last, final dazzle before lights-out time had arrived with Amitabh Bachchan’s 1973 film ‘Zanjeer’.
That marked the beginning of the end of romance – and the king who sat on that throne with such grace and confidence. India was changing. Audience tastes were changing but alas, Rajesh wasn’t, couldn’t, didn’t. Sure, he had a few modest hits along the way and even shone as a character actor in films like ‘Avtaar’, but the phenomenon and Superstar who gave us Sapno ki Rani and Yeh jo Mohabbat hai … was irrevocably heading for exit-ville.
In a loveless world where fists did the talking, women were props or glamorous playthings and toilet humour of the Shakti-Kadar brand had the audiences in splits, where was the space for a die-hard romantic, created for love, soft, gentle and sensitive, fun-loving, mischievous and innocent, who believed with all his idealistic heart, “Babumoshai, zindagi badi honi chahiye, lambi nahin?”
Amitabh Bachchan never tires of telling how his celebrity status really started when he signed ‘Anand’ with the superstar and how everyone would always badger him with questions about Rajesh.
To the 60’s, 70’s, even 80’s generation, he was Mr. Romance all the way. “He peered deeper inside a woman’s heart than any male star before and made the notion of romance more real. He honoured the woman and celebrated romance as something emotionally joyous shared by two – not an individualistic, exhibitionistic posturing of an idea hidden in song or dialogue baazi,” explains Social Commentator, Santosh Desai.
Be it the Guru shirt or the belt over the kurta, he turned the ordinary – clothing, song, dialogue, interaction – into something magical. Imagine serenading a girl, with a herd of elephants – ‘Haathi Mere Saathi’ – and converting both song and movie into a super-duper hit.
Along with romance, he was also brilliant in dramatic emotional roles – ‘Ittefaq’, ‘Safar’, ‘Anand’, ‘Khamoshi’, ‘Aavishkar’, ‘Aap Ki Kasam’, ‘Daag’, ‘Amar Prem’ – but seldom received the appreciation he deserved because of his overpowering and overwhelming star-glow.
His death at 69 truly marked the end of an era for all who were privileged to witness the man and the magic.
Mahesh Bhatt scripted his epitaph aptly when he stated, “Great people die twice. Once when their greatness dies and aura disappears. The second when they physically go. For icons the time in between is of unimaginable anguish.”
It was dramatic irony of truly showbiz nature that Rajesh Khanna had to die to return to a space he had once so confidently and stylishly owned – headlines and flashbulbs land.
Like a meteor, lyric poetry or even the fabled Icarus, a phenomenon is destined to be short-lived with an impact that is everlasting. What better way to remember the ‘Pasha of Passion’, ‘Raja of Romance’ and ‘Emperor of Emotions’ who acted in 163 films, won 3 Filmfare awards was neither an Adonis nor Hercules but yet managed to woo us with his inimitable, flamboyant song.
RIP Rajesh Khanna.
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