I have seen it many times. It was a childhood favourite. And like many
childhood favourites, as you mature, you start to wonder what was so great
about it. Over the last many years I had avoided seeing it again, despite my
love for Hindi cinema of the period 1950-1975, because I knew too well what it
had. I knew every scene, almost every dialogue well. And I felt it is a bit too
sentimental, playing with your emotions too easily, not subtle, with convenient
tropes of toying with you. It was not as pure as some of other Hrishikesh
Mukherjee (HM) films.
Ah, Hrishikesh Mukherjee! He warms your heart like a winter sun. I have not seen all his films but the ones I have, many are my all-time favourites with the crown jewel being Anupama. He has worked with all the leading stars over the years and formed a solid reliable roaster of his actors like Dharmendra, Amitabh Bachchan, Ashok Kumar, Jaya Bachchan, Asrani. All seem to be always ready for him. His movies are simple stories told with a gentle touch. Stories of everyday life, with deep perception of human emotions, stories of loving and losing, of pain, of sorrows which people face in everyday life, and of everyday courage. A courage of knowing that you are losing something you hold dearest and yet you must be steadfast. And the music is always grounded yet uplifting. Everything makes you feel, makes you sense, and tugs at your heart so slightly, as if you know the feeling, the character. Everything is simple and yet of highest level of finesse and planning. Oh, I can write in detail about him separately.
One day, I returned to Anand suddenly, looking for a steady solid HM film as a salve for me heavy heart. And it was a good decision, for I realised I had not appreciated it fully with more mature eyes. It is not a straightforward tear-jerker, although it does a good job at that. But like most HM films, it has small subplots. This one starts with a social commentary on the state of India in 1960s, and about the medical profession. In a few scenes, it laid bare a doctor’s frustrations with abject poverty, and how a a noble service is turned into a money spinner. It establishes the character of Dr. Bhaskar Bannerjee and also gives a quick peek into the society, where most don’t have food and the rich are hypochondriac. His friend Dr. Kulkarni justifies his attitude with the Robin Hood philosophy of taking from the rich and giving to the poor, to which Bhaskar can still not reconcile and says frustratingly - ‘don’t you think something is wrong somewhere?’
In this hopelessness enters Anand, a patient with a fatal disease and who is fully aware of it, but intent on living life fully till the last minute and keeping everyone around him happy. His opening scene has been planned as a screen manifestation of a ‘breeze of fresh air’, more like a gust, as he bursts through the swinging door with all energy, and conviviality, raising arms, speaking loudly, like lifting the whole mood. Smart writing, direction and acting all throughout.
Then the film is a sequence of portrayal of Anand’s character, constantly jabbering, spouting his philosophies of life, speaking loudly, speaking softly, eyes lit up at times, brimming many a times. And there is a parade of characters with short appearances, played by popular actors. There is a bit of over-the-top sentimentality, but overall, the writer and director do not lose the grip.
That’s the thing with HM, you get that sense of detailed writing, with every scene, every small note well thought and worked out. There are so many small nuggets in each of his film which make you wonder about the planning and empathy of the writer and director. Like an Agatha Christie novel, there are small touches which establish a character, without actually underlining the fact. They tease out the character, and the mood so subtly. Here the dialogues are by Gulzar and it shows. ‘Zindagi badi Honi chahiye, lambi nahi’. Or the quick tongue in cheek- ‘zara bula denge, Zara kyun, poora bula dunga’. Of course, many dialogues keep the mood light, which is demanded by Anand’s character, as well as needed to prevent the movie from sink in a heavy dose of melancholy. That is the thing about HM, the topics can be serious, heavy but the telling is light. It can be too painful to belabour through the tragedies of life is there is not a smile, a gentle nod, a small hopeful whisper, or an understanding arm on the shoulder.
You go along with Anand as he unravels. At some level I thought he could have been kept at one tone lesser, and it would have been more impactful, more realistic. At times he does become a bit caricature-ish. While the dialogues are fine throughout, some do seem belaboured.
But as with any good movie, there are layers here. How Bhaskar is the doctor but Anand ends up curing him, curing him of his cynicism, of his fatigue with life. Anand brings a joie-de-vivre back to him. There is a constant questioning of faith against science. Bhaskar asks frustratingly ‘akhir kya hai hamare haath main’. He is a man of science but he admits his fragility and submission when he says ‘Anand ke liye kuch bhi manne ko mann karta hai’. He even allows his cook to run to a village seer to grant a boon for Anand’s life. Indeed, what strikes you at heart appeals to something which is larger than logic or rationality. And there is not a weakness in being swept by a pure emotion. It is a triumph of acceptance, of submission.
I did like some of Anand’s philosophy, especially when he says that there is some undescribed-able magnetic force which pulls or repels people to one another. He then says, ‘to like someone, to be able to talk to him, touch him, to laugh with him, what else does one need in life’.
Anand’s background is shared sparsely and sprinkled throughout the movie. He was an orphan and mistreated by relatives. He loved someone but the girl got married off and that is when he runs away to Mumbai. He acknowledges that he is very selfish in sharing his own sorrows. I had never realised that the song ‘kahin duur jab din dhal jaye’ is so romantic and poignant. It had such an ache and longing without being weepy. ‘Ghani thi uljhan, bairi apna mann, apna hi hoke sahe dard paraye’. The other songs are all good - zindagi Kaisi hai paheli, and Maine tere liye hi saat rang. But I like the understated, short, love ballad- na jiya lage na. Very minimal and soothing. ‘jeena bhule the kahan yaad nahi, tujhko paya hai jahan, saans fir aayi wagon’. The songs of the movie are a tango between Yogesh and Gulzar. This latter song is a song of fulfilled love, of Bhaskar and Renu, unlike Anand’s. All HM movies have a unique way of love blossoming and getting expressed. Very subtle and all through expressions, like in Chupke Chupke, Dharmendra taking off his monkey cap and Sharmila smiling coyly, is all it took. Here too, it is a nice wordplay between Bhaskar and Renu. Love which does not need loud pronouncements, and is equally strong.
And the background score, it is so central to HM, although there is a set pattern to it. Like the comic scenes have a particular score. And mostly it is a big orchestral setting, as in Anand, with big focus on trumpet.
Let me come to the high point which made me write this piece on Anand in the first place, and that is Amitabh Bachchan. This movie is from the early days of his career, and he is not yet established. He has had a row of flops. He is thin, lean, and with an awkward presence really. But in Anand, there is ample evidence of what lay inside. When Prakash Mehra was desperately looking for a hero for Zanjeer, he finally landed with AB after being rejected by all established actors. Javed Akhtar says that he and Salim suggested AB to him because they had seen his movies and felt he is a great actor. I do not know but I guess that they would have seen Anand, or even Abhimaan.
I feel the character of Anand is easier to play because it is so well written. And there is a uniformity of arc. Although it still needs nous and Rajesh Khanna does show that. There was a risk of going over the top but he balances the character well. The character is mostly laughing and smiling but with quick switchovers to sadness, to the bittersweet, and Rajesh Khanna shines in those better. For instance when he says ‘main woh abhaga hoon jo apni maut ko har pal dekhta hai’. Yet, the range of portrayal is given for this character.
However, in Bhaskar there is a longer arc and range, and AB just smashes it as per me. The way he turns away a rich hypochondriac patient in the opening scene as a frustrated doctor, is not too unlike the way he sneers at Sherkhan in Zanjeer, in the iconic scene. All menacing voice and fiery eyes. And from then he flicks between arrogance, anger, happiness, awkward love, benign smile, frustration and the final anguish. In the scene where is smugly tells Johnny walker, ‘waise inka naam Anand hai’, he shows a quick haughtiness only to be gently cut to size when Johnny Walker says ‘mera naam bhi Murarilal nahi, Isa Bhai hai’. He embraces the vulnerability of his character very easily. The character looses its edge as he spends more time with Anand. In the second half there is no more anger. It is replaced by frustration as Anand’s end comes near.
The shining jewel of the movie is the diary writing and voice over by AB. Again, the initial proof of a talent which is used by many films for decades thereafter. His voice is so compelling, so clear and so heart touching. Dare I say, there is short introductory voice over by Ashok Kumar in Mili and that is nowhere in class to AB’s in Anand. It may seem that the diary is feeding the audience instead of letting them experience themselves, yet, this diary adds heft to the movie. It brings out a lot of counterpoint to Anand’s exuberance. ‘Yeh dard hi shayad uske jeene ki shakti hai’, ‘hum sab dare hue hain’.
I am sure that the makers of the movie would have deliberated a lot on the climax. There is no surprise that Anand would die. HM does not give you easy, convenient, escapist endings. But how to present it so as not to make it too heavy, and yet tug at the viewers. It cannot be just shown in passing, or metaphorically, because that would make it too simplistic. So it was hung on the poem by Gulzar, aptly titled ‘maut tu ek kavita hai’. It is a deep, intense, chilling poem which ends with the line ‘ek kavita ka vada hai milegi mujh ko’.
As Anand lay on his death bed, Ramesh deo gives a fine portrayal of Dr. Kulkarni who is torn by the oncoming tragedy, who is as devastatingly close to Anand as Bhasker, and yet is in control enough to do what must be done. Bhaskar had said before that ‘main tumhe marta hua nahi dekh sakta’ but quickly changed to ‘tum mere paas hi maroge’. Anand himself gave him that courage. But by the end Bhaskar has lost his bearings. He, a man whose faith had always been in science and what he can cure, is willing to try every half-science to find a cure. He rushes to a homoeopathic doctor.
And on his death bed, Anand surprisingly says - ‘main marna nahi chahta’, which is surprising since he has been so accepting of his imminent death. But he says ki ‘woh toot jayega, bahut kamzor hai woh’. Which is a good character summary of Bhaskar. For all his anger, his command of his profession, he is weak at heart. That can be a problem with emotional people, and Bhaskar is one. He is deeply emotional, sentimental. He sees a problem and he grapples with it. He cannot surmount it. He can sort matters of the world, but for matters of heart, of emotions, he needs people around him to understand him, to embrace him.
Anand asks that the tape of the poem ‘maut tu ek kavita hai’ be played because it has Bhasker’s voice. And he breathes his last. Bhaskar enters the room. One rarely sees a scene setting like this now, where one realises the kind of planning that goes into the shot. Where you know a lot of effort has been put into conceptualising and implementing it - the lighting is specific, the single bed with Anand, and Renu on the bed side, the table with tape recorder, Dr Kulkarni on the other side of the room crying disconsolately on the edge of a chair. In this scene enters Bhaskar and stops just at the end of the bed, the camera is placed perfectly to catch his full height, standing over the bed, and the span of the room. With the silence and Renu’s muffled cries, he realises what has happened. Yet he looks at Dr Kulkarni who gives a nod between his tears. Bhaskar has a defiant look on his face, that same defiance which is captured in many hard action movies later on, but here in a very emotional scene, it does not look out of place. He just falls on Anand’s body and now more in anguish, orders him to talk back to him, that he has been a chatterbox all this while and cannot go quite now. The man is broken. And the tape is still playing, and suddenly it says ‘babu moshai’, as if the dead man is talking. Bhaskar looks up in astonishment, only to realise that it is the tape playing, as it says ‘death is in the hands of the god, all the world’s a stage and we are just playing a part, nobody knows when his part will end’. And it ends with hearty laughter from both Anand and Bhaskar, as they had recorded a few days back. To end a death with laughter, just as Anand had wished. The tape finishes off like Anand’s life line. And now Bhaskar just sobs uncontrollably.
Anand is about celebration of life, of life in which relations mean more, that one needs to look beyond cynicism, that to help and feel for other beings is the best way to live. And it is a fitting reflection of artists at the top of their craft, be it direction, writing, acting, music. Only shorn of a few rough edges and it could have been even shinier.
PS- HM’s latter movie Mili is like a hat tip to Anand, with a much simpler mounting, but very similar premise, a terminally ill character being full of life and curing a deeply pained person of his agony. Here too the recipient is AB, now an established star and with his angry man image well established.
Ah, Hrishikesh Mukherjee! He warms your heart like a winter sun. I have not seen all his films but the ones I have, many are my all-time favourites with the crown jewel being Anupama. He has worked with all the leading stars over the years and formed a solid reliable roaster of his actors like Dharmendra, Amitabh Bachchan, Ashok Kumar, Jaya Bachchan, Asrani. All seem to be always ready for him. His movies are simple stories told with a gentle touch. Stories of everyday life, with deep perception of human emotions, stories of loving and losing, of pain, of sorrows which people face in everyday life, and of everyday courage. A courage of knowing that you are losing something you hold dearest and yet you must be steadfast. And the music is always grounded yet uplifting. Everything makes you feel, makes you sense, and tugs at your heart so slightly, as if you know the feeling, the character. Everything is simple and yet of highest level of finesse and planning. Oh, I can write in detail about him separately.
One day, I returned to Anand suddenly, looking for a steady solid HM film as a salve for me heavy heart. And it was a good decision, for I realised I had not appreciated it fully with more mature eyes. It is not a straightforward tear-jerker, although it does a good job at that. But like most HM films, it has small subplots. This one starts with a social commentary on the state of India in 1960s, and about the medical profession. In a few scenes, it laid bare a doctor’s frustrations with abject poverty, and how a a noble service is turned into a money spinner. It establishes the character of Dr. Bhaskar Bannerjee and also gives a quick peek into the society, where most don’t have food and the rich are hypochondriac. His friend Dr. Kulkarni justifies his attitude with the Robin Hood philosophy of taking from the rich and giving to the poor, to which Bhaskar can still not reconcile and says frustratingly - ‘don’t you think something is wrong somewhere?’
In this hopelessness enters Anand, a patient with a fatal disease and who is fully aware of it, but intent on living life fully till the last minute and keeping everyone around him happy. His opening scene has been planned as a screen manifestation of a ‘breeze of fresh air’, more like a gust, as he bursts through the swinging door with all energy, and conviviality, raising arms, speaking loudly, like lifting the whole mood. Smart writing, direction and acting all throughout.
Then the film is a sequence of portrayal of Anand’s character, constantly jabbering, spouting his philosophies of life, speaking loudly, speaking softly, eyes lit up at times, brimming many a times. And there is a parade of characters with short appearances, played by popular actors. There is a bit of over-the-top sentimentality, but overall, the writer and director do not lose the grip.
That’s the thing with HM, you get that sense of detailed writing, with every scene, every small note well thought and worked out. There are so many small nuggets in each of his film which make you wonder about the planning and empathy of the writer and director. Like an Agatha Christie novel, there are small touches which establish a character, without actually underlining the fact. They tease out the character, and the mood so subtly. Here the dialogues are by Gulzar and it shows. ‘Zindagi badi Honi chahiye, lambi nahi’. Or the quick tongue in cheek- ‘zara bula denge, Zara kyun, poora bula dunga’. Of course, many dialogues keep the mood light, which is demanded by Anand’s character, as well as needed to prevent the movie from sink in a heavy dose of melancholy. That is the thing about HM, the topics can be serious, heavy but the telling is light. It can be too painful to belabour through the tragedies of life is there is not a smile, a gentle nod, a small hopeful whisper, or an understanding arm on the shoulder.
You go along with Anand as he unravels. At some level I thought he could have been kept at one tone lesser, and it would have been more impactful, more realistic. At times he does become a bit caricature-ish. While the dialogues are fine throughout, some do seem belaboured.
But as with any good movie, there are layers here. How Bhaskar is the doctor but Anand ends up curing him, curing him of his cynicism, of his fatigue with life. Anand brings a joie-de-vivre back to him. There is a constant questioning of faith against science. Bhaskar asks frustratingly ‘akhir kya hai hamare haath main’. He is a man of science but he admits his fragility and submission when he says ‘Anand ke liye kuch bhi manne ko mann karta hai’. He even allows his cook to run to a village seer to grant a boon for Anand’s life. Indeed, what strikes you at heart appeals to something which is larger than logic or rationality. And there is not a weakness in being swept by a pure emotion. It is a triumph of acceptance, of submission.
I did like some of Anand’s philosophy, especially when he says that there is some undescribed-able magnetic force which pulls or repels people to one another. He then says, ‘to like someone, to be able to talk to him, touch him, to laugh with him, what else does one need in life’.
Anand’s background is shared sparsely and sprinkled throughout the movie. He was an orphan and mistreated by relatives. He loved someone but the girl got married off and that is when he runs away to Mumbai. He acknowledges that he is very selfish in sharing his own sorrows. I had never realised that the song ‘kahin duur jab din dhal jaye’ is so romantic and poignant. It had such an ache and longing without being weepy. ‘Ghani thi uljhan, bairi apna mann, apna hi hoke sahe dard paraye’. The other songs are all good - zindagi Kaisi hai paheli, and Maine tere liye hi saat rang. But I like the understated, short, love ballad- na jiya lage na. Very minimal and soothing. ‘jeena bhule the kahan yaad nahi, tujhko paya hai jahan, saans fir aayi wagon’. The songs of the movie are a tango between Yogesh and Gulzar. This latter song is a song of fulfilled love, of Bhaskar and Renu, unlike Anand’s. All HM movies have a unique way of love blossoming and getting expressed. Very subtle and all through expressions, like in Chupke Chupke, Dharmendra taking off his monkey cap and Sharmila smiling coyly, is all it took. Here too, it is a nice wordplay between Bhaskar and Renu. Love which does not need loud pronouncements, and is equally strong.
And the background score, it is so central to HM, although there is a set pattern to it. Like the comic scenes have a particular score. And mostly it is a big orchestral setting, as in Anand, with big focus on trumpet.
Let me come to the high point which made me write this piece on Anand in the first place, and that is Amitabh Bachchan. This movie is from the early days of his career, and he is not yet established. He has had a row of flops. He is thin, lean, and with an awkward presence really. But in Anand, there is ample evidence of what lay inside. When Prakash Mehra was desperately looking for a hero for Zanjeer, he finally landed with AB after being rejected by all established actors. Javed Akhtar says that he and Salim suggested AB to him because they had seen his movies and felt he is a great actor. I do not know but I guess that they would have seen Anand, or even Abhimaan.
I feel the character of Anand is easier to play because it is so well written. And there is a uniformity of arc. Although it still needs nous and Rajesh Khanna does show that. There was a risk of going over the top but he balances the character well. The character is mostly laughing and smiling but with quick switchovers to sadness, to the bittersweet, and Rajesh Khanna shines in those better. For instance when he says ‘main woh abhaga hoon jo apni maut ko har pal dekhta hai’. Yet, the range of portrayal is given for this character.
However, in Bhaskar there is a longer arc and range, and AB just smashes it as per me. The way he turns away a rich hypochondriac patient in the opening scene as a frustrated doctor, is not too unlike the way he sneers at Sherkhan in Zanjeer, in the iconic scene. All menacing voice and fiery eyes. And from then he flicks between arrogance, anger, happiness, awkward love, benign smile, frustration and the final anguish. In the scene where is smugly tells Johnny walker, ‘waise inka naam Anand hai’, he shows a quick haughtiness only to be gently cut to size when Johnny Walker says ‘mera naam bhi Murarilal nahi, Isa Bhai hai’. He embraces the vulnerability of his character very easily. The character looses its edge as he spends more time with Anand. In the second half there is no more anger. It is replaced by frustration as Anand’s end comes near.
The shining jewel of the movie is the diary writing and voice over by AB. Again, the initial proof of a talent which is used by many films for decades thereafter. His voice is so compelling, so clear and so heart touching. Dare I say, there is short introductory voice over by Ashok Kumar in Mili and that is nowhere in class to AB’s in Anand. It may seem that the diary is feeding the audience instead of letting them experience themselves, yet, this diary adds heft to the movie. It brings out a lot of counterpoint to Anand’s exuberance. ‘Yeh dard hi shayad uske jeene ki shakti hai’, ‘hum sab dare hue hain’.
I am sure that the makers of the movie would have deliberated a lot on the climax. There is no surprise that Anand would die. HM does not give you easy, convenient, escapist endings. But how to present it so as not to make it too heavy, and yet tug at the viewers. It cannot be just shown in passing, or metaphorically, because that would make it too simplistic. So it was hung on the poem by Gulzar, aptly titled ‘maut tu ek kavita hai’. It is a deep, intense, chilling poem which ends with the line ‘ek kavita ka vada hai milegi mujh ko’.
As Anand lay on his death bed, Ramesh deo gives a fine portrayal of Dr. Kulkarni who is torn by the oncoming tragedy, who is as devastatingly close to Anand as Bhasker, and yet is in control enough to do what must be done. Bhaskar had said before that ‘main tumhe marta hua nahi dekh sakta’ but quickly changed to ‘tum mere paas hi maroge’. Anand himself gave him that courage. But by the end Bhaskar has lost his bearings. He, a man whose faith had always been in science and what he can cure, is willing to try every half-science to find a cure. He rushes to a homoeopathic doctor.
And on his death bed, Anand surprisingly says - ‘main marna nahi chahta’, which is surprising since he has been so accepting of his imminent death. But he says ki ‘woh toot jayega, bahut kamzor hai woh’. Which is a good character summary of Bhaskar. For all his anger, his command of his profession, he is weak at heart. That can be a problem with emotional people, and Bhaskar is one. He is deeply emotional, sentimental. He sees a problem and he grapples with it. He cannot surmount it. He can sort matters of the world, but for matters of heart, of emotions, he needs people around him to understand him, to embrace him.
Anand asks that the tape of the poem ‘maut tu ek kavita hai’ be played because it has Bhasker’s voice. And he breathes his last. Bhaskar enters the room. One rarely sees a scene setting like this now, where one realises the kind of planning that goes into the shot. Where you know a lot of effort has been put into conceptualising and implementing it - the lighting is specific, the single bed with Anand, and Renu on the bed side, the table with tape recorder, Dr Kulkarni on the other side of the room crying disconsolately on the edge of a chair. In this scene enters Bhaskar and stops just at the end of the bed, the camera is placed perfectly to catch his full height, standing over the bed, and the span of the room. With the silence and Renu’s muffled cries, he realises what has happened. Yet he looks at Dr Kulkarni who gives a nod between his tears. Bhaskar has a defiant look on his face, that same defiance which is captured in many hard action movies later on, but here in a very emotional scene, it does not look out of place. He just falls on Anand’s body and now more in anguish, orders him to talk back to him, that he has been a chatterbox all this while and cannot go quite now. The man is broken. And the tape is still playing, and suddenly it says ‘babu moshai’, as if the dead man is talking. Bhaskar looks up in astonishment, only to realise that it is the tape playing, as it says ‘death is in the hands of the god, all the world’s a stage and we are just playing a part, nobody knows when his part will end’. And it ends with hearty laughter from both Anand and Bhaskar, as they had recorded a few days back. To end a death with laughter, just as Anand had wished. The tape finishes off like Anand’s life line. And now Bhaskar just sobs uncontrollably.
Anand is about celebration of life, of life in which relations mean more, that one needs to look beyond cynicism, that to help and feel for other beings is the best way to live. And it is a fitting reflection of artists at the top of their craft, be it direction, writing, acting, music. Only shorn of a few rough edges and it could have been even shinier.
PS- HM’s latter movie Mili is like a hat tip to Anand, with a much simpler mounting, but very similar premise, a terminally ill character being full of life and curing a deeply pained person of his agony. Here too the recipient is AB, now an established star and with his angry man image well established.
