I have to admit, I am now an RK fan. Not Ranbir Kapoor
(although he is very talented) but Rajesh Khanna. Something stirred within me
the day he died. He'd starred in two of my favourite films — Anand (1971) and
Kati Patang (1970). It was a strange sense of loss I felt and to overcome it, I
ordered his movies from Flipkart — Daag and a six-pack of Aradhana, Kati
Patang, Amar Prem, Mehboob Ki Mehendi, Apna Desh and Thodisi Bewafai. I watched
them all except Thodisi Bewafai. Why? I don't quite know. Maybe because
I was interested in the Rajesh Khanna of the 1969-73 phase, when he was at the
peak of his superstardom. I loved his movies and though his acting was often
restricted to stylized mannerisms, he lit up the screen with his appearance
even the dreary Mehboob Ki Mehendi.
Rajesh Khanna was larger than life. You noticed what he
wore, what he did, how he did it and who he was with. He had a band of
followers and fans that Indian cinema had never seen before. Today, no actor,
no matter how great a star he is, will be able to face the camera with the
confidence of a Rajesh Khanna in Amar Prem, if he has a huge pimple on his
right cheek. A pimple would do nothing to dent RK’s popularity. If at all, it
might have become another style statement like his guru kurtas.
In 2004, at director Mahesh Bhatt’s insistence, I met Shakti
Samanta, the man who had directed some of the best Rajesh Khanna films –
Aradhana, Kati Patang and Amar Prem — at his tiny office at Nataraj Studio in Mumbai. I
hadn’t watched any of these films then and Samanta, who hadn’t made a film for
15 years or so, did not mind my admitting to it. “They were made much before
you were born,” he had said, “So you will not know about how big these films were.”
I still regret the fact that I had not watched them then, for it would have led
to a beautiful conversation on the cinema of an era when filmstars were
demigods.
Though Rajesh Khanna's superstardom faded away with the rise
of the next superstar, Amitabh Bachchan, he continued to deliver good films
which were box office successes. Why then, in spite of a long and successful
career did he fade out of people's memories? Some say, he did not manage his
career properly. But then even Amitabh Bachchan had a long lull in his career
between the late 80s and the year 2000 when he made a comeback with Kaun Banega
Crorepati on television, a medium different from what had initially catapulted
him into superstardom.
How then have the three Khans — Shah Rukh, Salman and Aamir —
managed to remain superstars for so long? As a child in the 90s, I grew up on a heavy dose of their
films and danced to their songs. In college too, I would make it a point to
watch Shah Rukh Khan's (SRK's) Diwali blockbusters or Aamir's one film each year. I wasn’t a great
Salman fan, but I did catch up on a few of his films. Why haven’t they faded in
these 20 years the way Rajesh Khanna did in the 1980s and Amitabh Bachchan in the 1990s?
I think it's probably because of SRK. He was one of the
first guys who decided to put a price-tag on his every appearance off-screen.
He danced at weddings to make money to buy his bungalow. He cut ribbons at
inaugurations for a fee. He commercialised the whole idea of a superstar, so
much so that others, who had earlier frowned upon his 'business sense', joined the
bandwagon. It's difficult to forget SRK. Because when you're not watching his
film, you're watching him sell washing machines and cars on TV. If not, then
you'll catch a glimpse of him at a cricket stadium cheering for the club he
owns — Kolkata Knight Riders. He gives interviews to the media liberally and
allows people a glimpse of his life. And if you show him the money, he'll even dance at your sangeet. You may worship SRK, but you'll worship
him as a human, unlike the superstars of the yore like Rajesh Khanna and
Amitabh Bachchan in the 1970s who were worshipped like God. So, over 20 years
since we first saw SRK on the big screen, he still is the superstar he was and he rides the
wave of showbusiness smoothly.
When Hrithik Roshan was launched in 2000 and SRK’s Phir Bhi
Dil Hai Hindustani bombed at the box office, they said a new superstar was born
and SRK was written off. SRK must have had his Rajesh-Khanna-of-the-1973-moment
when the ‘next big thing’ was deemed bigger than he was, but he quickly shoved
it away, got his act together, moved on to doing more commercials and meatier,
older roles (Chak De India! and Swades) and made a superstar of himself instead of
his screen image. Ditto for the other two Khans, who have cashed in on the
rising popularity of television to keep their careers going and overcome the
lull periods in their film careers. So
yes, there may not be any more letters written in blood by young girls for the
three Khans (now all in their late 40s), but they’ve done enough to be a part of public memory for too long
to be forgotten too soon, even if the ‘next big thing’ is on the
horizon.
