The Romance called Rajesh Khanna

The Romance Called Rajesh Khanna.


In the year 1991 as I moved to a new township in the outskirts of Delhi, its approach road to the city and the inner plans yet to finish, I found a renowned new neighbourhood - C9, Vasant Kunj. Rajesh Khanna, the megastar of Hindi cinema was just a block away amongst people of mid level income whom the Government had granted homes at subsidized rates in a city where a home of your own was a huge big dream for most. However, Rajesh Khanna was no more the legend that the Indians knew in the early 70s. Yet from how he was known, even his faded stardom carried charisma, albeit faded. After a long gap in acting career, the star had decided to take to politics. Was that a way to pay back the laurels he had received? Service to the public who took him to heights untouched yet by an Indian, at least among the women whose heart throbs for the Dream man in her life as she grows out of teen. Patjhad mein jō phool murjha jaatey hain, woh baharon key aaney pay khiltey nahin… (Flowers that die in hail, do not blossom when spring arrives) On a couple of occasions that I met him during his morning walk or as he would walk back to his first floor home without a lift alighting from a chauffeur driven Contessa. He carried that glint in his eyes, and romance on his face and personae showed as one that was mastered over time and as its expert he relayed that as a matter of fact. Now crowd outside his house, nor did I see any girl chase him. You would however, see the sorrow and guilt in the eyes of women in their 30s and 40s almost as the legend cascaded down in their mind of erotic passion. Rajesh Khanna was never my Hero. I was 8 when he rose to be the huge big name, and I was more fascinated by those who were restrained in showing their passion for a woman. Yet none of those celebrities stood anywhere close to this man, whose name was enough, his poster enough, songs enough and the 3-hour show enough to make the girls see stark, dark and rusted archaic in everything else. And several boys took to his hair, his expressions, his sense of dress. I saw the film that made him a Superstar: Aradhna, and returned dreaming of Sharmila Tagore and hating him for getting close to her in the song Roop Tera Mastana. I also saw the movie that broke his Superstardom, Anand, and I returned to take a fancy for the shirts that Rajesh Khanna and Amitabh wore. Rajesh Khanna stood for most innocent romantic expressions, as a boy would with a girl at an age when the eyes see the body, unmindful of what existed between the boy and the girl. His eyes could melt the woman in her best compose. His smile would break the vane in a woman. The best brought girl would throw away the discipline as baggage of filth. A simple lip movement would make a woman arouse the nerves of her most erotic being. India was still very conservative society at that time. Yet stories of girls standing for hours outside the hotel room where he stayed or outside his bungalow in Mumbai, and how they would nearly faint getting a glimpse of him were the greatest stories outside the cinema. As a producer narrated his stay in Calcutta at the Oberoi's that is along its busiest 300 mt wide road, when the entire road unto 500 metres on either side of the hotel's entrance was packed with people. The producer who saw that crowd from his room on one of the higher floors, he saw a galaxy of countless heads. The traffic had stopped and there was no way a car would move any further through that one half of a kilometer. The Police made a request for the star to come out on the terrace and wave so that the crowd would disperse getting a glance. As the man came out on terrace, there was a roar possibly heard when Pataudi played his most artistic drive at Eden Gardens or if one of the major clubs won over another in the local Soccer League. Rajesh Khanna waved at the crowd amidst gush, voice struck, gasps and tremor, and then threw a few garlands of flower he carried, at the crowd. As the story goes, there wasn't even a bit of the petal that was seen on the roads later, as people snatched the bits and pieces and carried that in their pockets. Every fortnightly and monthly that dealt with Hindi film and cinema or a radio programme simply had none other to revel in: from Chala Jataa Hoon…Mere Sapnon ki Raani, Roop tera Mastaana,..Yeh Shaam Mastaani…Zindagi Ek Safar… Then the man married the most sought after woman of the time, as she captured the hearts of every eligible who breathed one for a woman divine. And news of suicides, girls slicing their wrist with knives swarmed the country and caused a lull. It appeared that manhood had died in India, and every girl had turned a live widow. It appeared as if their curse worked real. Rajesh Khanna fell from that majestic stardom, and very soon lost the woman too. The industry swapped that name with many, and one of them turned the brand new mania. It was all heterogeneous thereafter. No Hero on the Indian land has yet captured the souls and the passions of the feminine like him. Oh not anywhere close. A man who was crafted for the feminine compassion. A man whose looks, appearance, moves and the very demeanor was directed by an art of romance with the most sought wonder of the finer sex. If there was a man in Indian history who could take the feminine course to a destiny, it was Rajesh Khanna. Unparalleled romance in real life and any Avataar!