NOSTALGIA: Aandhi (1975)

SCENES FROM A MARRIAGE

Very few filmmakers in Hindi cinema have employed the flashback technique as extensively and effectively as Gulzar, and practically in all his films too. This interplay between past and present is used to maximum advantage in one of his best works, Aandhi, where the past continuously informs the present and characters look back on their choices with a mix of wistfulness and dignified acceptance. A film that released around the same time that Indira Gandhi declared a state of Emergency in the country, it ran into censorship problems thanks to its protagonist's obvious likeness to the then Prime Minister.

But the way it's written by Kamleshwar and realised by Gulzar, Aandhi isn't a political film, as much as it is a study of the breakdown of a marriage and the struggle between patriarchal and individualistic values. That Gulzar modelled his heroine after Indira Gandhi may have been a deliberate choice, but the story would have worked just as effectively if the protagonist had been a career woman in any other profession. 

The most telling line in the film comes mid-way through when Aarti's (Suchitra Sen) husband JK (Sanjeev Kumar) tells her "Mera shauhar banane ki koshish mat karo. Biwi ho, biwi ki tarah raho." His defense -- that he's a simple man who wants a simple life with a woman who'll sit at home and take care of his house. Yet, Aarti is anything but a simple woman and JK should have known that the night she stumbled drunk into the hotel where he works. She too should have chosen a man who'd accept and support her ambition. That neither of them is able to rise above their own nature, and both must assume equal responsibility for their estrangement, lends dramatic credence to the text.

When the film opens, she's a much older woman, a veteran politician on an important election campaign, fighting against a cunning opponent, Chandrasen (Om Shivpuri). She functions out of a hotel that belongs to  JK, separated from her nine years ago. Once they get over the initial awkwardness, Aarti and JK meet every night to enjoy this unexpected reunion and rekindle memories of their once happy lives. The flashback narrates their love story.

Aarti, the daughter of a prominent politician (Rehman) is all set to follow in his footsteps when she falls for this small-time hotel manager. Despite her father's disapproval, she marries JK and abandons her political career to sit at home and bring up their daughter. But it isn't long before petty differences, Aarti's determination to go back to work with her father and JK's insistence that she remain a good housewife, creates a rift that widens with each passing day. Till finally, Aarti breaks free and goes back to active participation in public life, while JK continues to live on his terms and away from his now famous wife.

Back to the present, Chandrasen, who gets a whiff of Aarti's nightly meetings with JK but doesn't know anything about their past, spreads scandalous news about their liaison. Aarti's wily campaign manager (Om Prakash) too finds the situation getting out of control. Till the clever lady plays her final card and makes an emotional speech at one of Chandrasen's rallies and openly declares the exact nature of her relationship with JK. This ploy pays rich dividends and she sweeps the elections emphatically.

The director ends the film on this ambiguous note. Aarti bids her ex-husband adieu and goes back to the real world once again. They've perhaps regained some lost ground, but their paths aren't meant to merge after all. 

Gulzar's dialogues, his lyrics and R D Burman's music are crucial players in this human drama. The three Lata Mangeshkar-Kishore Kumar duets: "Is mod se jaate hain", "Tere bina zindagi se" and "Tum aa gaye ho", effectively map the three phases of their relationship.

Sanjeev Kumar has to execute a daunting task in tracing his character's transition from a cheerful but headstrong person into an older, mellower man. He does it most effortlessly. Equally powerful (if not better) is Bengali actress Suchitra Sen's portrayal of a lady who's torn between professional ambition and personal gratification. She opts for the former, and Sen makes her choice seem perfectly natural.

It is these qualities, and not its sensational value that give Aandhi a timeless appeal.