The iconic blockbuster Sholey: Kyunki, ye kaun bola?

“Gaonwaalon!” yells Veeru. Every true fan of Bollywood would undoubtedly remember this drunken proposal from atop the water tank in the form of a monologue. Perhaps the most critically acclaimed Hindi mainstream movie in history is Ramesh Sippy’s all-time classic Sholay (1975), which was a huge success.

The intertwined themes and characters

The story weaves several levels, which include themes of aspiration, joy, happiness, pride, solidarity, integrity, and masculinity as well as themes of retribution, love, hate, and male bonding. The movie explores such a wide variety of human emotions that it is simple to overlook the major characters, the two small-time robbers Veeru and Jai, lack roots, a feeling of casual adventure, and a fundamental loneliness. They are constantly moving until Veeru and Jai reach Ramgarh to take up the Thakur’s mission. When their pockets are empty, they are apprehended by cops and locked in a prison. They are thieves, but they are also friendly, honest, brave, strong, and lovable.

The duo have no roots, no relatives, and no place to call home. There is no social history provided. They don’t exhibit any desire to remain in one spot, either. They seem quite satisfied with their life being always in upheaval, both financially and geographically.

On a motorbike with a sidecar that hilariously separates from and reattaches to the main vehicle during the song, the buddies sing Yeh dosti hum nahin todengey in the opening scene of the movie. As the movie cuts back in time, Veeru and Jai are in a moving train when they first see Baldev Singh Thakur, who is still a police officer.

Just a road movie or a Journey?

Sholay is definitely a journey film. The stark physicality and concreteness of the road movie contrasts with the metaphysical, conceptual, and occasionally ideological elements that pepper the journey film. The journey is undetermined, endless destination serves as a reminder of the audience’s more complex, contradictory destiny.

Years later, when Veeru and Jai run across Baldev Singh Thakur at Ramgarh, his hair has become white, but the two main characters are still as young as they were at the start of the movie. Thakur has prematurely grayed as a result of the stress of having his entire family—all but his younger daughter-in-law—murdered by Gabbar Singh. The ageing process for Veeru and Jai seems to have been prevented by their lack of roots and lifestyle away from the mainstream.

Between the metaphors  

Veeru’s declarations that he wants to stop stealing, get married, and start a family are metaphors for wanting to fit in and wanting to be loved. A portable musical instrument that can go wherever with its user, Jai’s mouth organ is a representation of his need for love and a sense of belonging. Every night, he waits for Radha, the widowed daughter-in-law, to enter the balcony outside his quarter in the Thakur mansion as he plays the mouth organ. He always plays the same melody, perhaps because it is the only tune he is capable of playing. Its melancholy tone captures the tragedy in both his life and the young widow’s. It also serves as a subtle reminder of the tragic conclusion to this love story.

The movie ends with Basanti, the tongewaali, waiting to leave and start a new life with Veeru inside of a train. Will they eventually become domesticated? Or are they going to set out on a different adventure with a different goal? The movie leaves the issue open-ended.

The stay and transits

Transport means are frequently used to explain the various journeys of the characters. The amusing motorbike Veeru and Jai ride symbolises their relationship and also suggests that they will eventually part ways. Then there is the train that Gabbar Singh’s bandits intend to rob, but Thakur Baldev Singh, a young police officer, stops them. On horses is the gang of Gabbar Singh. Basanti views her horse Dhanno as more than just a friend, guide, and helper; the tonga he pulls is an integral part of her way of life. Ahmed mounts a colt.

Journeys are also incorporated into the subtexts. Young Ahmed rides a young horse on which he travels while he seeks employment in the city. When the yearling slowly trots back to Ramgarh without its rider, it becomes clear that this was a journey without a destination. Another action-packed adventure involves Basanti rushing off in her tonga while pleading with Dhanno to take care of her izzat and with Gabbar’s goons close behind. The train and railway track are a recurring metaphor that connects the flashbacks into Thakur’s past and the pasts of the two kind-hearted robbers with voyages through time and space. Men on horses running parallel to the speeding train with the bandits and the dacoits is one stunning image.

Gabbar stays mostly in his den, which serves as both the hub of his operations and, maybe, as his residence. Instead of a cave, he is in charge of an open hillside while swinging his leather belt back and forth and sputtering tobacco from a little pouch. He delegates all of the riding and plundering to his soldiers since he is sure that he can keep even remote settlements under perpetual terror. He is not troubled about the journey or the destination. He has a narrow focus and just cares about terrorising and robbing others.

Distinct women

The motif of Basanti’s peculiar portrayal is her tonga. Basanti is shown as a strong woman who has the guts to transport male passengers from the closest station to the village and back by the sound of Dhanno trotting while pulling the tonga and the jingle of the bells around the horse’s neck. Radha, the widowed daughter-in-law of Thakur Baldev Singh, transforms from a cheerful teenager who loves Holi to a bashful bride to a young widow dressed in a white sari and cloaked in silence. The transition in this case is from speaking to silence.

The socio- political gradient

When Sholay is viewed today, it is not simply a fun movie to watch; it is also a cultural artifact that reveals a lot about the 1970s and how the nation perceived itself at the time, even if it was through commercial film making. The characters’ interactions, as well as various scenes in the movie and their interactions with one another, depict an India that is very different from and probably even more innocent than the India of today.

Imam Saheb, the blind Muslim cleric whose son is murdered, was an intriguing character in the film Sholay and very much a caricature from the 1970s. He served as the model for the kind Rahim chachas, or token Muslim characters, that were frequently sweet and innocent and were common in Bollywood. The persona was forced to speak in “Muslim” sounding phrases like “Ya Allah” or “La hawla wa la quvvat” while dressed in “Muslim” attire, which for men meant a sherwani and skull cap and for women a sharara with a drape covering the head. The inclusion of the kind Muslim bolstered the movie’s secular credentials, but it also revealed how, in general, Americans saw Muslims, not only filmmakers; there were prejudices, but they did not include viewing Muslims as dangers.

In recent years, Hindi films have given Muslims more complex representations; yet, this has created an opportunity to contrast the “sinister” Muslim with the “patriotic” Muslim. Simple clothes now serves as a quick way to convey the Muslim character’s frightening intents. The Rahim Chachas of the past now resemble cardboard cut-outs and caricatures, with the exception that they are incapable of being mocked. Even though it was all a little too filmy and fake, it was much simpler in the 1970s.

It is also intriguing to speculate about the potential social background of Gabbar Singh. Is he descended from a small farming family that lost all of its land? Perhaps he belongs to the OBC, which would give the well-known dialogue “Yeh haath mujhe de de Thakur” a new meaning by adding to the desires of the lower castes who now want to have access to positions of power and places that the upper castes dominated. For the most part, it was considered that the characters in Hindi films belonged to the upper castes, including the Brahmins, Kshatriyas, Khatris, and Kayasthas. Caste was only mentioned in the reformist films produced by companies like Bombay Talkies, V Shantaram, and Bimal Roy, as well as subsequently in art films. Was Gabbar Singh a sign of the OBCs?

To batao cinema hall mein Kitne aadmi the?

Janaab, house full!