If you forget Guide, Dev Anand was never seen as a great actor. In fact, in Hum Dono he did such a bad job of Major Verma, the Army officer with a peculiarly placed parting in the hair, a funny fake moustache and a fat pipe in his mouth, that he was almost comical in his agony. But if you want to feel his real power, get on U tube or bring home some old DVDs. And there you’ll find Dev saab in all his glory, seducing you with Mohammad Rafi’s voice, Elvis’ puff and a 1000 watt charisma that had never before been seen on the Indian silverscreen. Not difficult to understand then why girls nearly died when he smiled that lopsided smile and crinkled those deadly eyes.
Check Tere Ghar ke Saamne where he is sprawling at a miffed Nutan’s feet in the green meadows and draping himself around trees, begging her to smile again with: Dekho rutha naa karo, baat nazron ki suno. Or find Teen Deviyan where he's turning up his collar and smiling into the mirror, nearly cracking it with his sheer star power, while in the house across the street a blushing Nanda almost falls out of the window with sheer delight at his Aise to na dekho, ki hamko nasha ho jaaye. Or, bring home Hum Dono and catch him traipsing down tea gardens with a trailing tie in one hand and a fragile Sadhana in another, shaking that lethal head to Abhi naa jao chod kar, ke dil abhi bhara nahin.
But if you want to feel the full blast of his cinematic power, sit in the quiet of the night and watch Din dhal jaaye; hai, raat na jaaye; tu toh naa aaye teri yaad sataye, where he leans back against a sofa leg with a bottle of whiskey and a glass in his hands, eyes shut to the world in pain. As the black shirted, bound-for-doom lover drowning his sorrow in drink, Dev Anand epitomizes unrequited love while the beautiful Rosy (the limpid-eyed Waheeda Rehman) tosses in her bed upstairs.
He introduced Indian audiences to the anti-hero who smoked, who drank, who lied, who cheated, who fell in love with women he wasn’t supposed to be falling in love with (other men’s wives (Guide); adopted sisters (Bambai ka babu) included). As Raju, the man who helps a young girl realize her dream to dance by encouraging her to walk out of her marriage; but is also not averse to exploiting her in the process, Dev Anand was at his acting career best. But that’s not how most of us remember him now that he is gone. For his fans he was the style icon with a deadly puff, an endearing crick in the neck, a limp wrist and a smile that lit up the world. That little bit of Gregory Peck in him just added to his romance.
But to each his own. What makes him immortal for me is the song: Main zindagi ka saath nibhata chala gaya, har fikr ko dhuyen mein udata chala gaya where he is the stylish Army officer, who walks with a careless swagger, lights up a cigarette with a musical lighter and chucks a butt into the flowing river (those were the good old days when smoking was stylish and littering not a big issue). He returns from war with a leg lost, but gives us, his fans, a philosophy to live by: Jo mil gaya usi ko mukaddar samajh liya, jo kho gaya main usko bhulata chala gaya. Yes, the Gita had given it to us earlier but Sri Krishna never put it the stylized way Dev did when he quoted Sahir Ludhianvi: Gam aur khushi mein fark naa mehsus ho jahan, main khud ko us makaam pe lata chala gaya with eyes half shut, half smile playing on the lips
As he got older, that was probably the philosophy he lived by as well. Making film after film that no one wanted to watch, but refusing to let it affect him. He directed 19 films of which only seven were commercially successful. The last – Chargesheet -was released just a while before he died. This was also the year when Hum Dono was rereleased in colour, 50 years after it first hit the cinema screens. He probably knew we had started laughing at him for refusing to age, in the process becoming a sad caricature of his earlier self. And when he left us, he was probably upset by the fact that we didn’t want to watch any of the films he had been making lately. In fact, he didn’t even allow his body to be brought back to India from London where he died in a hotel room because he wanted his fans to remember him the way he had lived: in a full sleeved shirt with a scarf draped casually around the neck. Heroes might age, but they never die. They live forever in our memories. Goodbye Dev saab. Long life!
Dev trivia:
Once, returning from the Paris film festival, he modestly stood in the crowd in Rome to watch Gregory Peck shooting for Roman Holiday. Only to have Peck recognize him as the Bollywood sensation he had become and call him over for a
chat. Later he said in an interview that he had been hoping Gregory Peck’s eyes would fall on him.
In his lifetime, and a career spanning more than 65 years, Dev Anand acted in 114 Hindi films of which 110 had him play the main lead. His contributions to Indian cinema include immortalizing Rafi’ voice and Guru Dutt’s films, and introducing Indian audiences to glamourous divas like
Tina Munim and Zeenat Aman, which - he once said in an interview - was “like giving caramel custard to jalebi eaters”.
That's my favourite Dev Anand song. If you want to leave behind yours, please do. I'll find it on U tube and activate a link.
Check Tere Ghar ke Saamne where he is sprawling at a miffed Nutan’s feet in the green meadows and draping himself around trees, begging her to smile again with: Dekho rutha naa karo, baat nazron ki suno. Or find Teen Deviyan where he's turning up his collar and smiling into the mirror, nearly cracking it with his sheer star power, while in the house across the street a blushing Nanda almost falls out of the window with sheer delight at his Aise to na dekho, ki hamko nasha ho jaaye. Or, bring home Hum Dono and catch him traipsing down tea gardens with a trailing tie in one hand and a fragile Sadhana in another, shaking that lethal head to Abhi naa jao chod kar, ke dil abhi bhara nahin.
But if you want to feel the full blast of his cinematic power, sit in the quiet of the night and watch Din dhal jaaye; hai, raat na jaaye; tu toh naa aaye teri yaad sataye, where he leans back against a sofa leg with a bottle of whiskey and a glass in his hands, eyes shut to the world in pain. As the black shirted, bound-for-doom lover drowning his sorrow in drink, Dev Anand epitomizes unrequited love while the beautiful Rosy (the limpid-eyed Waheeda Rehman) tosses in her bed upstairs.
He introduced Indian audiences to the anti-hero who smoked, who drank, who lied, who cheated, who fell in love with women he wasn’t supposed to be falling in love with (other men’s wives (Guide); adopted sisters (Bambai ka babu) included). As Raju, the man who helps a young girl realize her dream to dance by encouraging her to walk out of her marriage; but is also not averse to exploiting her in the process, Dev Anand was at his acting career best. But that’s not how most of us remember him now that he is gone. For his fans he was the style icon with a deadly puff, an endearing crick in the neck, a limp wrist and a smile that lit up the world. That little bit of Gregory Peck in him just added to his romance.
But to each his own. What makes him immortal for me is the song: Main zindagi ka saath nibhata chala gaya, har fikr ko dhuyen mein udata chala gaya where he is the stylish Army officer, who walks with a careless swagger, lights up a cigarette with a musical lighter and chucks a butt into the flowing river (those were the good old days when smoking was stylish and littering not a big issue). He returns from war with a leg lost, but gives us, his fans, a philosophy to live by: Jo mil gaya usi ko mukaddar samajh liya, jo kho gaya main usko bhulata chala gaya. Yes, the Gita had given it to us earlier but Sri Krishna never put it the stylized way Dev did when he quoted Sahir Ludhianvi: Gam aur khushi mein fark naa mehsus ho jahan, main khud ko us makaam pe lata chala gaya with eyes half shut, half smile playing on the lips
As he got older, that was probably the philosophy he lived by as well. Making film after film that no one wanted to watch, but refusing to let it affect him. He directed 19 films of which only seven were commercially successful. The last – Chargesheet -was released just a while before he died. This was also the year when Hum Dono was rereleased in colour, 50 years after it first hit the cinema screens. He probably knew we had started laughing at him for refusing to age, in the process becoming a sad caricature of his earlier self. And when he left us, he was probably upset by the fact that we didn’t want to watch any of the films he had been making lately. In fact, he didn’t even allow his body to be brought back to India from London where he died in a hotel room because he wanted his fans to remember him the way he had lived: in a full sleeved shirt with a scarf draped casually around the neck. Heroes might age, but they never die. They live forever in our memories. Goodbye Dev saab. Long life!
Dev trivia:
Once, returning from the Paris film festival, he modestly stood in the crowd in Rome to watch Gregory Peck shooting for Roman Holiday. Only to have Peck recognize him as the Bollywood sensation he had become and call him over for a
chat. Later he said in an interview that he had been hoping Gregory Peck’s eyes would fall on him.
In his lifetime, and a career spanning more than 65 years, Dev Anand acted in 114 Hindi films of which 110 had him play the main lead. His contributions to Indian cinema include immortalizing Rafi’ voice and Guru Dutt’s films, and introducing Indian audiences to glamourous divas like
Tina Munim and Zeenat Aman, which - he once said in an interview - was “like giving caramel custard to jalebi eaters”.
That's my favourite Dev Anand song. If you want to leave behind yours, please do. I'll find it on U tube and activate a link.
Big B JB's favourite song. Also Anju and Tanu's:
Prithvi's song:
Ritha's song. I found both versions but used this to show you how Hum Dono looks in colour:
Riten's song:
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