The Greats: Dharmendra

08.12.1935- 24.11.2025
Photo courtesy: India Today Archives

This was not what I had planned, nor indeed, expected, when I wrote this post and scheduled it for today. I’d meant it to be a celebration of an amazing artiste’s 90^th birthday. Instead, two weeks ago, I woke up to the shocking news that he had passed away. And because the press, including highly ‘respectable’ newspapers and news channels, had killed the man off previously, it didn’t hit me at first. But slowly, as the idea that ‘Veeru’ had passed away (Sholay being the first film I consciously remember having watched) sank in, the news felt more devastating than I’d expected. I wondered then, whether I should relegate this post to the backburner and post a tribute instead. But, what better tribute than an actor have than to be remembered for his performances? So, the original post in its entirety, in tribute to a man who could effortlessly combine romance, comedy, ‘action, tragedy, drama’ – Dharam Singh Deol, better known as ‘Dharmendra’. 

Born on 8 December 1935 in Nasrali village in Punjab, Dharmendra spent his early years in Sahnewal, where his father was the village headmaster. In 1948, having watched Shaheed, starring Dilip Kumar, Dharmendra was struck by the acting bug (and a lifelong devotion to Dilip Kumar, into whose house, by his own admission, he had crept in on his first visit to Bombay.) His father, naturally, was not happy, but according to Dharmendra, his mother was more encouraging. His initial trip to the mecca of filmmaking proved disappointing, and the young man returned to his native Punjab where he obtained a job in a drilling company. But his obsession with films never left him, and soon, he applied to Filmfare’s talent hunt, travelling once again to Bombay. This time, the gods of fortune smiled on him, and he was placed second.

Despite the win, he struggled to find a break, so much so that at one point, he considered returning to Punjab. It was fellow struggler Manoj Kumar, who persuaded him to stay. In 1960, he finally debuted as the lead in Dil Bhi Tere Hum Bhi Tere, co-starring opposite Kumkum. The film sank without a trace. However, Shola aur Shabnam (1961) gave him his first taste of success. A small(ish) role in Anpadh (1962) gave him scope to show his emotional range, but it was the sensitive prison doctor in Bandini (1963) that made the film world sit up and take notice.

A slew of films, some successful, some not, followed. But, in 1966, came Phool aur Pathar where one scene of Dharmendra taking off his shirt had women reportedly swooning in the theatres. 1966 also cemented his status as a sensitive romantic, even tragic, hero – Mamta, Bahaarein Phir Bhi Aayengi, Devar, Anupama  all served to showcase the actor’s vulnerable side. He was now a bona fide star. Alongside, he played ‘regular romantic hero’ with equal elan, starring opposite a number of beautiful heroines, including lady love Hema Malini, with whom he starred in a whopping 28 films. 

His drop-dead good looks, his muscular physique, and his versatility as an actor made for a heady combination. One of the few heroes of the time who looked realistic while bashing up a few goons at once, Dharmendra also had excellent comic timing. Even before Chupke Chupke (1974) rolled around as a full-length comedy that depended on both Dharmendra and Om Prakash to make the plot work, Dharmendra was flexing his comedic muscles in comic sequences in films like Aaya Saawan Jhoom Ke (1969), Tum Haseen Main Jawaan (1970), Seeta aur Geeta (1971), etc. Of course, he peaked in Sholay (1975), but even in the corniest of roles, Dharmendra brought in a sincerity that made you root for him.

Dharmendra straddled the eras between two of India’s biggest superstars – Rajesh Khanna and Amitabh Bachchan. But in stating that, we miss the obvious: he may not have seen the heady success that turned his contemporaries into cinematic ‘eras’, but he is vastly underrated as an actor, even by those who chronicle the vagaries of cinematic success. Like most good-looking actors discover (to their dismay), their talent is often overlooked. While graciously accepting Filmfare’s almost-as-an-afterthought ‘Lifetime Achievement Award’ (1996), Dharmendra rued that he had never won the magazine’s ‘Best Actor Award’ even once. Ironic, because it was that very same magazine that had awarded the young man in their talent contest. And this, too, despite the fact that he was the most consistently reliable actor in a decade and a half, with excellent performances and extremely successful films under his belt.

 The eighties may not have been kind to his filmography, but it showed how an actor could reinvent himself to fit into a new cinematic ethos. Gone was the sensitive, vulnerable side; ‘macho’ was in. And who better to embody that than the original ‘He-Man’? Yet, in films like Rajput (1982), Ghulami (1985), Batwara (1989), etc., we still saw flashes of vulnerability, of innocence, of idealism. Cinema, to him, was a passion; he had once remarked that as long as he could act, he didn’t care about the money. All he wanted was ‘a flat and a Fiat’.

Once we stepped into the nineties and the noughts, Dharmendra reinvented himself once again, stepping graciously into character roles that seemed written for him. Films like Sriram Raghavan’s Johnny Gaddar, Anurag Basu’s Life in a Metro (both in 2007) showcased the veteran actor in shades we had begun to forget existed. It is strangely fitting that his last act is in Sriram Raghavan’s Ikkis (2025).

Stories about his generosity and willingness to accommodate others are also legion. His bungalow in Bombay was like a pind in Punjab – anyone from his village could land up there and be sure of a good meal, a roof over their heads, and a helping hand. I remember reading that at times, there were over 40 people who lived under his roof. Colleagues, similarly, had only good things to say about him – Sharmila remembers how he once agreed to shoot through the night so she could hurry to her next set in the morning. 

 

 Amitabh Bachchan is on record saying that he got the role of Jai in Sholay, only because of Dharmendra’s recommendation. And it's common knowledge that he stepped in to rescue Bahaarein Phir Bhi Aayengi after Guru Dutt's untimely death. 

Here, then, on (what would have been) his 90^th birthday, my heartfelt tribute to a man who epitomised a gentlemanly manliness; a man who, despite his stardom, remained steadfastly grounded; a man whose warmth and simplicity earned him the love of both his colleagues and the masses – a collation of some of his performances in no particular order that touched me deeply or tickled my funny bone or even vindicated my righteous anger. Not all of these are ‘good’ films in the sense people define ‘good’ cinema, but Dharmendra’s performances in these films made them perfect entertainment. That’s not such a bad thing after all.

Veeru in Sholay (1975)

For many, this was Dharmendra’s last ‘good’ film. That point is debatable, but it is true that in this film with an ensemble cast who were superlative, Dharmendra more than held his own. As the composite ‘hero’ who got to romance the heroine, act goofy, had a bromance going, and still fight like a man when the chips are down, Dharmendra was pitch-perfect. Who can forget his ‘soo-caide’ scene on top of the water tank? I dare you not to laugh at his ‘chakki piso-ing’ dialogue or the know-it-all villager who tells his bewildered compatriot, ‘Angrez log jab marte hain use soocaide kehte hain.’ Who else but Dharam could woo his beloved from behind a large statue of Shiva or by ‘teaching’ her to shoot?

Professor Parimal Tripathi in Chupke Chupke (1975)

That same year, Dharmendra reunited with his Anupama director in a film that is as different as chalk from cheese, proving that he could be spectacularly funny without slapstick. The plot, based on the intricacies of language, got its mojo from the interactions Dharmendra has with his on-screen brother-in-law, Om Prakash. It was a class act and one that showed how easily Dharmendra could slip into the skin of an ‘everyman’ character.

Satyapriya Acharya in Satyakam (1969)

This performance is certainly one of Dharmendra’s best performances, though it is only Dharmendra’s innate likeability that allows us to sympathise with so rigid an idealist. But the actor’s sincerity in depicting the character is unmistakable. Constantly reminded of his failure in protecting Ranjana (Sharmila Tagore) when she turns to him for help, Satyapriya becomes increasingly rigid in his adherence to his principles.  

Ashok in Anupama (1966)

It is when you go through Dharmendra’s filmography that you realise that he played the morally upright idealist in many of his earlier films. Here, as in Satyakam, Dharmendra plays a poor poet with the courage of his convictions. His Ashok is a precursor to Satyapriya, equally idealistic but less rigid. Ashok is tolerant of others’ frailties, and is more aware of the flawed world he lives in. Loving Uma (Sharmila Tagore) as he does, he still refuses to coerce her into coming to him. If she does, it must be because she chooses to. He not only gives her the tools to make her own decisions, but the freedom to do so. An achingly handsome Dharmendra shows us what a fine actor he could be when given the right character and the right director.

Dr Devendra in Bandini (1963)

In some ways, Anupama’s Ashok is just another version of Devendra in Bandini. Someone who offers unconditional friendship and unconditional love to the heroine. Here, Deven is the prison doctor, who meets Kalyani (Nutan) who’s serving life imprisonment for murder. Impressed by her quiet demeanour, Deven falls in love with her even after he learns that she’s a convicted murderess. When she’s finally released from jail, he offers her his name and the chance of a new life.

Shankar in Yaadon ki Baraat

This was the precursor to several lost-and-found multi-starrers (the grand-daddy of all of them was, of course, Waqt). As Shankar, Dharmendra was saddled with bad wigs, but managed to surmount the odds to play a man on a mission. Through most of the film, he’s either grimacing or angsty, growling or speaking through gritted teeth. In fact, this film almost presages the actor’s ‘kutte kamiine’ phase. But there’s one scene which shows you what the man was still capable of. It takes place in a restaurant where Ratan (Tariq) is performing. As is his wont, he begins by singing ‘their’ song – the title track of Yaadon ki Baraat, in the hope that he will find his long-lost brothers. As Shankar, on his way out of the restaurant, pauses in shock, Vijay (Vijay Arora), in the audience, responds to the song. Shankar is almost about to do the same when he realises he’s being watched by Shakal’s (Ajit) men. So, from behind a pillar, he watches his younger brothers embrace and, for a moment, breaks down. It’s touching.

Dharam in Dharam Veer (1977)

I had to include this only because I recall that Dharmendra was so aghast at the costumes Manmohan Desai made him wear in the film. Besides, the film was as crazily entertaining as only Desai could make it. A separated-at-birth pair of twins, a mythical land, royal princesses and faithful servitors, the lovely Zeenat Aman as the haughty Princess Pallavi, a pet falcon named Sheroo… what’s not to like? And despite Dharamji’s reservations about ‘wearing mini-skirts and looking like Helen’ (that’s some imagination!), he seemed to be enjoying himself in the swashbuckling role.

Ajit in Mera Gaon Mera Desh (1971)

Mera Gaon Mera Desh is the link between iconic dacoit films such as Ganga Jamuna and Jis Desh Mein Ganga Behti Hai and the juggernaut that was Sholay that was to come a few years later. As Ajit, a small-time pickpocket, who upon his release from jail, is offered a fresh start by the very man who had him arrested, Dharmendra traversed the arc between cynicism, rebellion, and a slow coming-to-terms with duty and responsibility. It helped that he had Vinod Khanna as an antagonist and the showdown between the two was extremely satisfying.

Raka in Seeta aur Geeta

Seeta aur Geeta was one of the best gender reversals in Hindi film history. (It was a remake of Ram aur Shyam.) Hema Malini bit into her twin roles with relish, and Dharamendra, as the love interest of one of the sisters, was a delightful foil. You can see his comic timing in what should have been a straightforward role. His deadpan delivery, his facial expressions and even his body language make his scenes with Geeta (Hema Malini) a laugh riot. Yet, you could see his distress when his beloved seemingly rejects him, and his steely resolve when he realises that he’s needed to rescue her.  

Dr Rajesh Khanna in Bahaaron ki Manzil (1968)

Bahaaron ki Manzil was one of the many films that Dharmendra and Meena Kumari signed together. And it was, probably, the best of the lot. As Dr Khanna, Dharmendra is urbane, polished, and impossibly handsome. For a film set in the sixties, he’s also remarkably insouciant about his growing fondness for his patient, and is incredibly blasé about the fact that the woman he loves has, albeit unwittingly, spent the last 16 years living with a man she’s not married to.

In her tribute to the late actor, Saira Banu wrote: “Today, as I bid farewell to this noble, gentle soul, I am reminded of the towering humility he carried within him, the loyalty he offered to those he loved, and the vastness of his heart – so large that it embraced not just people, but life itself, with gratitude and grace. May the angels receive him with the warmth he so generously offered to others. May his onward journey be blessed, luminous, and wrapped in divine mercy. And may he rest in the eternal peace he so richly deserves.”

 I couldn’t have put it better. Farewell, Dharmji. May you find your friends where you have gone, and enjoy a good tipple once more. Thank you for all the years you have spent entertaining us, making us laugh and cry, and fighting the good fight.