Bollywood film music throws up beauties in the most mundane and pedestrian movies with amazing regularity. In fact it is such a predictable feature that I have to come to believe the composers were a class above the filmmakers (& their forced ideas on the story writers) and directors
Dil ne pukara is an otherwise typical, ghisi peeti story of a love triangle which has been done to death in Bollywood. The only variable in the formula can be two men and a woman or one man and two women. Here it is Rajashree with Shashi Kapoor and Sanjay (at the time, he didn’t use the family name, post Dosti).
Rajashree while on a holiday in the land named after Rishi Kashyap, bumps into Sanjay who starts stalking her and indulging in extremely unfunny antics that irritate her no end (why do Hindi films have to show this at all?) There is an instant, intense love (in him for her) & an instant, equally intense hatred (in her, for him). But of course, for an inexplicable reason, Bollywood filmmakers seem to feel that this is a certain path to long lasting love. Mehmood and Helen are in a similar very complicated relationship (similar to the FB statements of Gen Y). Mehmood in this movie seems to have got hold of Rajendranath’s wardrobe, and wears outlandish costumes cut out of a cloth you would be scandalized (and the next two generations would be reduced to hanging their heads in shame) if you used it as material to drape on your sofa set… Sanjay indulges in breaking into her room dressed in an unconvincing boatman costume, singing songs and plays a harmonica under her bedroom window on a moonlit night. Any other lady would have reported the guy to the cops who would have proceeded to thrash the living daylights out of the guy, but of course this is Bollywood, where loafers rule the roost. So the creepy behaviour actually scores points. She gets a telegram after the Harmonica concert that her Dad ( named in typical Bollywood style Seth Dharamdas, Manmohan Krishna as the dad this time around, not Nazir Hussain) and rushes to find him doing really well, minus the moonchh in bed with the obligatory silk pajamas and nightrobe. She meets the poor kid who is now a fresh medical school graduate ( in the 60s, the MBBS types were shown in Bollywood to be incredibly pluripotent, and could even diagnose pregnancy by holding the hand at the wrist -feeling the pulse for an aptly named pregnant pause and mouthing real lines that scarcely gave away the gravitas of the predicament the repeatedly puking poor gal finds herself in – “लड़की का पाँव भारी है।।” The MBBS guys could also perform the most complex surgery in the cauldron of an Operation Theatre, to the most outlandish and ghoulish musical pieces in the background, with the heroine showing anxiety mopping his sweaty brow in the midst of the surgery). The good Doc is none other than the most junior of the senior Kapoors- Shashi. Now the doc naturally falls head over heels in love with the light eyed (fave) daughter of V Shantaram.
For any casual Hindi Film goer the rest of the plot is utterly predictable. The song which I rediscovered after maybe 10 years while researching for my Radio Talkshow on Piano and had to with a heavy heart leave out from the final selection, is a wonderful classic from Mukesh.
A great composition by Kalyanji Anandji. https://youtu.be/FKUJ56BR0DU
Most enjoyable melody that’s absolutely a timeless classic…
Stay safe, stay healthy. Stay away from the Chinese malice