Yaadon ki Baraat (1973)

1973

Directed by: Nasir Hussain

Music: RD Burman

Lyrics: Majrooh Sultanpuri

Starring: Ajit, Dharmendra, Zeenat Aman, Vijay Arora, Tariq Khan, 

Anamika, Neetu Singh, Nazir Khan, Shivraj, Murad

Last month, fellow-blogger Ira (Bollyviewer of Masala Punch) and I posted our reviews of 'kind of' 'sort of' 'Arabian Nights' films on the same day. It was one of those merry coincidences that have followed me around in Blogland - I have written about it extensively before. When Madhu (Dustedoff) read our reviews, she said she wished she had known that the two of us were going to review the same genre of films, so she could have joined in. Well, that we reviewed the same type of film at the same time was coincidental, but Ira had the bright idea that we should celebrate our masala twin-ness (or should that be a masala trio?) with a linked or common-themed post. (Long before Madhu and I realised we thought and wrote uncannily like each other, Ira and I had realised we were masala twins. In fact, we were this close to standing on opposite sides of the Niagara Falls and shouting 'Behanaa...'  to each other.) Ira then had the even-more-brilliant-idea that the theme should, appropriately enough, be 'lost-and-found' siblings. Of course Madhu and I jumped at the idea. It was perfect!

Then, the question was: Which film should we choose? I wondered amusedly whether it wouldn't be strange if all three of us, independently, chose the same film to review. Ira was sure that the theme of lost-and-found was so huge that if we did choose the same film, it would be a sweet coincidence. I wasn't that sanguine. With our past history, I wouldn't have been too surprised if we had all ended up reviewing the same film. Madhu agreed with me. Besides, as she said, if we do end up with the same choice, it would be tedious to read three reviews of the same film - all quite similar to the other. It would be far better if we gave each other a heads-up about our choice of film to review.

Madhu had already reviewed Waqt, the grand-daddy of lost-and found. So she was considering Yaadon ki Baraat, Amar Akbar Anthony or Johnny Mera Naam. My choices? Yaadon ki Baraat, Johnny Mera Naam, or Waqt. (I'd already reviewed Amar Akbar Anthony.) And Ira? Her chosen options were Yaadon ki Baraat, Amar Akbar Anthony or Waqt.

(Does this validate our masala soul-sisterhood? The defence rests.)

Anyway. Madhu was restricted by the scope of her blog - pre-70s films, so she opted for Johnny Mera Naam. I picked Yaadon ki Baraat because my husband had even written a song about the connection between Madhu and me, and therefore it seemed not only serendipitous, but the perfect choice for a celebration of masala sisterhood. Ira, when we last spoke, was dithering between a couple of representative films, before finally settling on Seeta aur Geeta.

Once the films were picked, all that remained for us was to watch our chosen film and write about it. Now, you know that when you pick up a Nasir Hussain film, you are going to get a full-on entertainer. As Veeru says in Sholay, 'Is mein ackshun hai, emoshun hai, drrrama hai.' Add a plethora of songs as well, eyecandy in the forms of both heroines and heroes, and Ajit -  you have the foundation of a masala fillum right there. 

 

Gulzar (Nazir Khan) and his family, wife and three sons, are celebrating his birthday (or their anniversary, I'm not sure). When the wife asks the governess to cut the cake and give it to the children, the eldest son pipes up - what about the song? It turns out that they have a 'song' that she sings for them on every celebratory occasion. In any case, she sings it so often that all of them have memorised its words. And of course, she is singing of a 'procession of memories' (yaadon ki baraat), so avid movie watchers will know that this idyll will not last very long. (Especially when she sings: Jeevan mein bichdenge, na hum kabhi...')   

Soon after the little party, Gulzar, who is an artist, leaves home to deliver a few paintings to a client. But as he reaches the client's home, he hears gunshots, and sees three men run out into the darkness. 

 

He gets a good look at the leader in the headlights of the getaway car but is too taken aback to do anything to stop them. A servant tells him that the client, Dharampal, has been robbed and killed. 

Back at the hideout, the leader, Shakal (Ajit! In a cowboy hat!) distributes the loot to his cronies, Ranjit (Shyam Kumar) and Jack (Satyen Kappu). Though happy with his share, Jack's conscience is niggling. Murder?  Shakal is not very happy, and Jack trembles with fear for his own life. But Shakal has bigger problems than Jack's inconvenient conscience.  The man he barged into while fleeing had had a good look at him; what is worse, he was an artist. 

Shakal's fears are not unfounded. Gulzar had gone straight to the police station. 

Shakal, along with Ranjit and Jack track him down just as he completes the painting. (I didn't know the cops had commissioned a portrait of the murderer. I mean, they couldn't do with just a sketch?) And Shakal is nothing if not a connoisseur. He does appreciate the artist's skill before he shoots the unfortunate man down, even as the two older boys, Shankar and Vijay, look on through the window. 

 

Their mother meets the same fate. Luckily, the governess, who has the youngest son, Ratan (Aamir Khan), has more brains than to appear in front of the men. She takes the little boy and flees through the back door. Unsuspecting of their departure, Shakal chases the other two boys. He doesn't want to leave any witnesses this time. Jack, who already has one death on his conscience, helps Shankar and Vijay escape, by sending Shakal in the wrong direction. 

 

The boys flee only to be separated as Shankar jumps onto a moving train. Vijay, unable to keep up, falls behind. Meanwhile, the governess has gone to the police. Of the three men who were at the scene, she only recognises Jack, who has a police record. Jack has been caught, but the police have also found another man's fingerprints at the scene of the crime. Meanwhile, Shakal is leaving no stone unturned to preserve his freedom. He sends Ranjit to Jack with a message - keep silent or he will kill Jack's daughter.  

 

In the meantime, a kindly man named Mr Verma (Shivraj) spots Vijay lying unconscious by the tracks, and adopts him. Shankar, alone and hungry, is befriended by another young lad, Usman 'Bhai' Batliwala, and initiated into stealing. His first robbery is to steal some food while Usman distracts the shopkeeper. Unfortunately, he is too clumsy and the boys are forced to run for their lives. Shankar manages to escape the man from whom he stole two batata wadas, but it is not as easy to escape a life of crime.

Years pass, and Shankar has now grown up; only one thing has not changed - he is still haunted by the whistle of the train that reminds him of his separation from younger brother Vijay, and by the memories of his parents' murder.  

Vijay (Vijay Arora) has grown into a handsome, dapper, and cocksure young man. His foster father had sent him to the city to pursue a good college education. Just after his exams, Vijay is escorted to Hotel Blue Heaven, where a classmate is treating them to dinner. And who should be playing there but the famous Prince Monto and his group. 

 

'Monto' (Tariq Khan) is really Ratan grown up. His old governess sits in the wings each night, and wherever he performs, Monto sings the family song, hoping that one or the other of his brothers will one day hear it and be reunited with him. That night, too, Monto sings of lost memories, but Vijay, unfortunately, is called away to the telephone. By the time he returns, Monto is beginning the evening's programme. 

Vijay takes his seat. Just then, a vision in red strolls in, and Vijay is smitten; she is standoffish. Monto watches their byplay with amusement. (Ratan is supposed to be the youngest. But Tariq looks a lot older than Vijay Arora, who at this point in his career, had a baby face.) When the programme ends, Monto/Ratan makes his governess repeat the story he's heard a thousand times before - how his parents were killed, how his brothers were missing, how she went to the police many a time in search of the boys... And Jack is still in jail! (He was sentenced for 15 years; which means that Shankar/Dharmendra can only be in his mid-to-late twenties at this point. Talk about suspension of disbelief!) Perhaps he could visit Jack? (This goes nowhere after this, so it begs the point why it had to be implied in the first place.)  

Monto is not the only person who wants to visit Jack. Shankar has been making regular trips to the prison to meet the man who was present at his parents' murder years ago. But Jack consistently refuses to meet anyone. Shankar continues to be haunted by the sound of the passing train, and to brood over taking revenge on the man who murdered his parents and separated him from his brothers. Since Shakal had taken the precaution (this time!) of being masked when he shot the artist and his wife, all Shankar has to go on is the vague memory of a masked man in a cowboy hat. (It doesn't look like he has inherited his father's artistic genes, but he can still draw better than me!)  

Shankar's best friend is the young lad who befriended him when he was a boy - Usman (Ravindra Kapoor). Usman is a practical soul - will brooding over his past help Shankar avenge his parents' deaths? Shankar knows neither the murderer's name, nor how he looks. But Shankar is not to be turned away from his goal; one day, Jack will be released from prison. And he will coerce the name of the killer out of Jack. He doesn't care if he is hanged for that murder. He will have achieved his ambition. He has only one other wish.

 

But business intervenes. A Seth Popatlal has an offer for the two of them. Steal the necklace of the Maharani of Behrampur. Shankar and Usman take the offer. But they are not the only people after the spoils. The necklace has been brought to the attention of Shakal, by his son, Roopesh (Imitiaz Khan). Shakal is now an outwardly respectable man, a wealthy hotelier, though he also smuggles jewellery and ancient Indian artifacts. (Hey, every man needs a hobby!)

 

He asks Roopesh to brief the men well. There is Ranjit (now called Tiger), still looking the same, though his wig has been liberally dusted with talcum powder; Martin (Shetty, who's also given a goddawful wig), and a few others (who are not important enough to be named). But Shankar tweaks the necklace right from under their noses.  Making his way over the rooftops while Shakal's men follow him on foot, Shankar hides away in the nearest home. When the pursuers come banging on the door, he holds the woman (Anamika) who lives there, hostage. But he is taken aback by her response. 

 

Meanwhile, Vijay has come back to meet his foster father, Verma, only to find him being reprimanded by the 'vision in red'. Upon enquiry, he learns that his father's employer had sold the estate to a Seth Devi Dayal, whose daughter Sunita (Zeenat Aman) has come down from Bombay with her friends for a visit. Verma has to go out to order some alcohol for them, so Vijay decides to go meet Salim (Jalal Agha), a childhood friend of his. 

Vijay is still seething with anger at the way Sunita treats his father. While at Salim's, he learns that Sunita had invited Salim's employer to her housewarming party, though she's never met him. Vijay decides to pretend to be the Kunwar Saheb, in order to teach Sunita a lesson. When she realises that 'Kunwar Saheb' is the same man she had run into in the city earlier,  Sunita decides she has to cut him down to size. He is up to all her tricks however, and the night ends with a song, and a simpering, flirtatious conversation.

 

And so begins a series of 'pranks' (played by both Vijay and Sunita) that get progressively more egregious.  She pretends to be in love with him; he thinks he has 'trapped' her in his love. She tricks him into meeting her alone, or so he is supposed to think; he knows it is a trick but pretends to be broken-hearted, and dying of cancer to boot. 

In any case, the pretend romance soon becomes real on both sides, but not before a (literal) bowing down on Sunita's part. (Considering that they had gone on their merry way without even a picnic basket, where on earth did she get these extremely fetching outfits to change into? [First rule of masala: Don't ask stupid questions.]) The only good thing about all this is that Vijay is as smitten by her as she is by him, and decides (finally!) that honesty is the best policy - well, part-honesty, at any rate. He quite forgets to tell her that he is not the millionaire Kunwar.

 

The fledgling romance soon hits a roadblock. Seth Devi Dayal (Murad) has come to visit his new acquisition and to take his daughter back with him. But Sunita informs her father that she has chosen a bridegroom - a man worthy of her father's position. Vijay, eavesdropping, leaves heartbroken at this proof that his beloved is only interested in his wealth. (*Head to desk* Communicate, people!) Which is unfortunate, because he had misjudged his future father-in-law. In the annals of masala cinema, Seth Devi Dayal is the extinct phenomenon - a rich man who cares not for wealth or position, but for his daughter's happiness. (You mean rich people aren't *all* bad?)

Vijay's foster father, who has seen them canoodling, is quite furious with his son. Does Vijay even know what he is playing with? (Words like 'aukaat' and 'izzat' are thrown around with abandon.) But Vijay, distraught by his beloved's supposedly shallow nature, promises his father that he will never meet Sunita again. (It doesn't occur to him, though, that in lying to her, he was guilty of fraud as well.) In fact, he will leave for Bombay immediately. And  he does, leaving Sunita broken-hearted.

Back in the city, Vijay applies for a job at Park Hotel.  Which is owned by - Shakal. (Of course! Who else?) Meanwhile, Ranjit/Tiger has offered Shankar a job - to work for Shakal as well. There is a gold Nataraj that their client Robert has set his heart upon obtaining. On his way to meet his new boss, Shankar runs into his brother, Vijay.  (Their hearts tell them there is a bond, but we have half a dozen reels to get through, people!)

Shankar runs afoul of Roopesh because he dares bargain. But Shakal appreciates a good man, even if his son doesn't. And without knowing it, Shankar makes a deal with the man he has been searching for these past 15 years. As Shankar leaves, informing Shakal that he will make his own plans for the robbery, her runs into both his brothers, and like ships that pass in the night, they bond over cigarettes and part again.

Shankar is still making rounds of the jail where Jack is imprisoned; as usual, Jack refuses to meet him. But he learns one important news. Jack will be released on 15 December. While leaving, he sees his mystery woman enter the jail. What he doesn't know is that she is Jack's daughter, Mary. 

 

Shankar and Mary are not the only people who are interested in Jack's release. Jack is looking forward to it because he wants revenge on his former boss. Roopesh is worried because Jack's release means that Shakal will be unmasked. Shakal wants Jack free so he can ensure Jack will be silenced forever.

So. All the Dramatis Personae are in one spot. Vijay is working as a waiter in Park Hotel. Ratan alias Monto is the regular singer there. Shankar has been hired by Shakal to steal the Nataraj for him. Will the separated siblings meet? (Of course they will! What a question! And they even run towards each other like Bollyviewer and I would have done if it weren't for a tiny inconvenience known as the Niagara Falls in between.) 

Will Sunita find out why Vijay disappeared from her life? Will the course of true love finally run smooth? Will Shankar find out that the man he is working for, is the man he has been brooding over vengefully for the better part of his life? Who is the dead man in Room no. 303? Has Shakal managed to escape the long arm of retribution? Will Jack get his revenge? After all, he has no clue where Shakal is. All he knows about his former employer is the size of his shoes.

Nasir Hussain deviated a little bit from his usual 'child separated from his parents, replaced by an imposter, but falling in love with his real father's foster daughter' plot that he had so successfully used in many an earlier film. Yaadon ki Baraat was more bloody, more violent, and less of a lovestory. A sign of the times perhaps, but it was revenge that was the foundation of the plot. Yet it had so many of Nasir Hussain's staple elements - the convoluted plot twists that neatly tie up the story in a pretty bow, the great music, the fabulous leads; Salim-Javed's script added the fast-paced action which sucks the viewer into the story.

One tends to overlook the plot holes in Yaadon ki Baraat simply because it is so entertaining. Besides, Nasir Hussain did a good job with the way he cut certain scenes - young Shankar's legs as he stands at the railway bridge morphing into those of the older Shankar, for instance; the train carrying Shankar away from his brother merging into the darkness of a tunnel, as he (and we) see Vijay stumbling and falling on the tracks;  or the shots of a grand robbery interspersing with the manic strains of Lekar hum deeewana dil.  

RD Burman, Nasir Hussain's collaborator from Teesri Manzil onwards would come up aces this time as well. Having Tariq play a singer/musician allowed the composer the leeway to experiment with different sounds. If we had the melodic Yaadon ki baraat that is reprised twice in the film - once in the beginning, just after the credits by Lata Mangeshkar, Padmini and Shivangi Kolhapure, and then later by Kishore and Rafi, RD also gave us the romantic Chura liya hai tumne, and Meri soni meri tamanna. But he switched tracks completely with Lekar hum deewana dil and the Aap ke kamre mein medley. The latter especially may have owed its concept to Nasir Hussain, but the sound was pure RD. And he went wild, synchronising his beats to the pulse of a much-younger audience who demanded a more 'modern' sound. This was a score that would echo with raw energy, and cement RD's place as one of the best of contemporary composers. 

  

Launched through this film, Tariq seems to be present only to sing the songs - which is just as well because Tariq had about all the emotional bandwidth of his cardboard cutout outside the hotel. Ratan is the least developed character amongst the three brothers. It doesn't help that he neither has much screen time, nor a narrative of his own, and is also accessorised with the excesses of 70s fashions.

Dharmendra, similarly, is handicapped by a series of bad wigs and worse expressions. 

One can only assume he was practising for his Kutte, kameene, main tera khoon pee jaaoonga phase of the 80s. In fact, his last dialogue in the film is just that - Teri maut toh aa rahi hai, woh dekh kutte! he screams at Ajit as the latter stands, his foot imprisoned in the railway tracks. Dharmendra grimaced, brooded, looked angsty, growled, and spoke through gritted teeth throughout the movie. Thankfully, he wasn't saddled with Anamika as his romantic interest. 

Vijay Arora had the meatiest role in terms of screen time. He got the romance, two duets, and the only emotional arc of the narrative. And he and Zeenat provided droolworthy eye candy. 

 

The problem was that one is barely invested in their romance to really care whether they got together or not. The whole 'pranks' scenario smacked of absolute narcissism, and the self-pity afterwards made you want to haul them (both) off and throw them off a cliff. But hey, they are both absolutely likable actors even if rather unlikeable characters.

Ajit is his usual suave and stylish self. Though he is also plagued by bad wigs, all-white costumes, black gloves and sunglasses even when he is inside his den. (A fashion faux-pas, surely?) He is also an intelligent villain, and God knows we have too few of those.  Plus, for what it is worth, he is not pusillanimous at all. The man has courage. It just seems odd that the villain was more nuanced a character than any of the supposed heroes.

But, but, but... a few more niggling questions raise their head. Why is Neetu Singh there just for a blink-and-you-will-miss-her role? (To be fair, it did rescue her from B-grade films.)

Why does Ajit wear a cowboy hat in the early scenes? Why does Dharmendra have to wear such an awful wig when he had a perfectly good shock of hair of his own? Actually, why does everyone in the film look like they are having a bad-hair day?

 

Sawaal pe sawaal pe sawaal... But as Vijay says to his Soni,  Jaane do.. yaar! Pour yourself a drink and yenjaay! We luvvvv youuuuuu.....