Pal Bhar Ke Liye

Hema Malini really needs to get in touch with a contractor who can help her out with her home's ridiculous profusion of windows. Maybe she can start a support group with the current occupants of Philip Johnson's Glass House. By my count, she's pursued by Dev Anand through 15 different windows in this clip from the 1970 movie Johny Mera Naam. (Yes, they spell "Johny" with one N. No, I have no idea why.)

The actual plot of this movie involves some convoluted twists relating to whether Johny (Dev Anand) is a gangster or a police agent, but the focus of this song is squarely on the charm and joy of a good old-fashioned romantic stalking. You don't see this happen quite as much in more contemporary Bollywood films, but apparently, in the '60s and '70s, stalking was the socially acceptable, logical way for your leading man to woo the leading lady. Remember fellas, No means Yes! So, Dev Anand proceeds at a brisk clip of 5 window-privacy-invasions per minute, taking a brief detour through the conveniently placed Wall of Inexplicable Circular Holes. If the setup here isn't creepy enough for you yet, let me just mention the 26 year age difference between the protagonists. And then shudder.

Finally, Hema Malini gives up her stalker abatement program after falling into the bathtub and pounding on the security window as if to say, "Quit it, you idiot, I just fractured my tailbone!" Naturally, Dev Anand ignores her and continues singing. Incensed, she grabs a pole and decides to finally bring some sanity to this whole situation by impaling the guy. But for some reason (his ridiculous schoolboy outfit?), she takes pity on him and decides that heck, maybe she does love him after all. No surprise there - in all the many romantic stalking scenes I've seen in Bollywood movies (there are plenty of great ones that I'll be posting at some point), I can't recall a single one where the heroine's feeling for the hero isn't warmed significantly.

I found a great forum where people are contributing translations of Bollywood lyrics, and oddly enough, this song has only one reference to windows:

Standing at the window...
Accept the saint who is standing at the window
Even if it's false

Somehow, he's able to charm her despite repeating this "Even if it's false" line many times throughout the song, and a generally kind of sad tone:

You are the most beautiful out of all the beauties
My face too is not that bad
Sometime do look at me too
Even if it's false

By the way, if you have an odd feeling that you've heard this song before, it might be because it apparently was used in a Simpsons episode.

Piya Tu Ab To Aaja (Monica, Oh My Darling!)

This is the first post of my blog, so I might as well give a quick run-down of what's going on here. In short: I am somewhat obsessed with Bollywood movies — especially ones of a particular '60s through '80s vintage. If you're looking for gossip on Shah Rukh Khan or Aishwarya Rai, you're probably not going to find it here. But, if you stay tuned for my weekly updates, I think you'll agree that there's something special about these older movies. I'm not entirely sure what it is, and that's part of the reason I started this blog — I want to try to articulate what it is about these gorgeous, kitschy, strange, fantastic movies that I love.

I'm starting out with one of my favorite clips — a song called "Piya Tu Ab To Aaja (Monica, Oh My Darling!)" from the 1971 film Caravan. In my collecting of Bollywood films and music, I've followed several actors and actresses that I became fascinated with, and one of them is Helen, the central dancer in this clip. She basically knocks the socks off of any other Bollywood dancer, then or now. Her moves are just genius, and the hyperactive energy that she musters is incredible.

When I first saw this clip, I was confused and stunned — by the hysteric dancing, the odd juxtaposition of English and Hindi lyrics, and the giant set with pink flamingos, a human-sized golden bird cage, and a replica of Big Ben that somehow fits into a tiny nightclub. I think that a common outsider reaction to Bollywood is to prize its bizarre and incomprehensible quality — a celebration of the entertainment value of the "what the hell?" absurdity of it all. But as I watched more movies I found that understanding a little bit more about the culture and the context actually made it even more entertaining and enjoyable. So, a few notes about this clip: Helen was not ethnically Indian, but rather French and Burmese, which may explain why she never had a successful leading role in Bollywood films. However, she was unquestionably the most talented dancer in Bollywood over her 3-decade career, and was in high demand for secondary roles and explosive dance sequences. Helen could be sensual and suggestive without ever crossing over into direct provocation — a skirting of restrictions that seems to have been highly prized in '60s and '70s Bollywood, which took pains to respect social mores — and government censors — with regard to displays of sexuality. Notice, for instance, that around 4 minutes in to this clip, when Helen's outer garments are dramatically removed, it is not actually her bare stomach you see — she's wearing a body sock!

Anyway, enough blabbering from me. Enjoy the clip, and come back next week for the next entry.

Update: I posted a translation of the lyrics.