While other Bollywood fans flocked to see the new Parineeta this past weekend, I decided to go back in time to the Bimal Roy classic which released in 1953 - Parineeta, starring Ashok Kumar, Meena Kumari and Asit Baran. The two films probably couldn’t be more different. Color vs. black and white, lavish sets compared to the simple architecture of the two neighboring households, and the music- one with a soundtrack that may soon be forgotten, the other with songs still some are still humming fifty years later.
I’ll reserve judgment on the new Parineeta for later, after I’ve actually seen it. From the stills and trailer, it seems to be a gorgeous production. And if anyone can do justice to a period film, it would be Vidhu Vinod Chopra, who gave us 1942, A Love Story—truly a feast for the eyes. But, I suspect that the glamour and glitz of the re-made Parineeta may backfire. Bimal Roy’s Parineeta is about emotion, with nothing detracting from it. Like the recent remake of Devdas – nothing simple or subtle about that production – the new Parineeta may leave me asking…but where are the tears? Where’s that gut-wrenching heartbreak? Where are the deep sighs?
All of these are present in the old Parineeta in spades!
Parineeta, both versions (there is a third also, I believe), is based on Sarat Chandra Chattopadhyay’s novel of the same title, published in 1914. Like the book, Bimal Roy’s rendition of the story is set in Calcutta “years ago” and centers around two families. The first is a wealthy family headed by Navin Rai, notorious for the hefty interest he charges on loans, such as the one he administered to his neighbor Gurucharan,. Gurucharan put up his ancestral home as collateral to pay for the wedding of his eldest daughter. Navin Rai, aware that Gurucharan cannot pay back the loan, is looking forward to possessing his neighbor’s house. So confident is he that an architect has already drawn up plans to make the two houses one. But until then, their adjoining terraces make it convenient for Lalita, Gurucharan’s orphaned niece, to meet Shekhar, Navin Rai’s son. Shekhar has been tutoring Lalita for years and in return, Lalita packs his suitcases, mends his shirts, and generally keeps him and his mother company. But, that’s how it was done back then. How else could the two have met whenever they wanted? If it weren’t for books and lessons the whole neighborhood might have been up in arms watching Lalita go back and forth between her uncle’s home and that of Navin Rai.
The two are comfortable with this platonic relationship until, Girin, a pardesi, comes to visit another of Lalita’s neighbors. Girin is smitten with Lalita at first sight and only too happy to join the womenfolk when they play cards or go to the theatre (a good excuse to insert a song into the movie). It is the realization that someone could come between Lalita and Shekhar that makes the two realize they are probably interested in being more than just neighbors. The two marry in secret (adjoining terraces a moon and a garland-what more do you need for a wedding?) but that’s when the trouble begins.
Navin Rai calls in his neighbor’s loan and Girin, who has been left a sum of money, steps in to pay off the balance, saving Lalita’s uncle from disgrace and from losing his home. His plans thwarted, Navin Rai accuses Gurucharan of selling Lalita to Girin in order to save face. Gurucharan denies this is what happened but announces that he’d be lucky to have Girin as a damaad. Girin is only too happy to agree to marry Lalita, to stop the gossip. As events spiral out of control, Lalita stays silent, leading Shekhar to believe she has agreed to Girin’s proposal. Men, so thick-headed they can be. Shekhar seems to have forgotten that Lalita is a parineeta – a married woman. His pride stung, Shekhar, in turn, agrees to marry also. As both weddings approach, Lalita informs Girin she can’t marry him because she is already married. Girin saves the day and reputations by coming up with a solution that makes everyone happy. Especially Shekhar and Lalita.
Meena Kumari and Ashok Kumar exude that restrained passion seen so often in Bollywood films of yesteryear. A touch, a chance meeting, a backward glance – and hearts melt. This isn’t your jumping on tables or running down hillsides kind of romance. It’s the type that starts slow, with a few sparks and is then stoked to create a fire that last for a very long time. It works fabulously for these two, which is surprising since, in my view, this is not the most romantic of screen couples. The wedding scene is a perfect example of this chemistry. I’ve seen the movie a few times and the scene in which they ‘marry’ gets me every time. Set against the backdrop of a little girl conducting the wedding of her dolls (very cute and if you’ve arranged your own gudda and gudiya's marriage, this scene will take you back to your childhood), a joke turns serious as Lalita tosses a garland around Shekhar’s neck. He teases her, asking her if she realizes what she has done. Stunned, she runs from the room, not quite believing she she’s been so…’forward’ (another truly Indian state). Shekhar asks for a garland of his own and, on a moonlit terrace, ‘marries’ Lalita. It’s a simple affair, but meaningful.
I have to say I miss such simple gestures, simple stories, from Bollywood. There was a run of them some years ago – Khushboo, Anand, Mili, Uphaar, Piya Ka Ghar, Chitchor and Swami, to name a few. Bimal Roy’s Parineeta lets the viewer feel as if they are part of the story, maybe living across the way watching these two families and events unfold. Nowadays, it’s difficult to put yourself into a story or identify with the characters or a situation. I mean, how often do you see a few dozen spiffily dressed guys and dolls break into a song and dance number while walking down the street? But, a street singer who performs for a few paisa, a group of children excited about a pretend wedding, or young man and woman talking to each other shyly on a terrace – that doesn’t stretch the truth too much, even in this day and age.
Speaking of songs and dance – there is no comparing the soundtracks of both Parineetas. I have been listening to the new version’s songs and well, what’s to say? Shekhar crooning “You are mine” is going to be remembered fifty years from now? In the earlier version, there are very few songs – four, I believe, that made it into the movie. And none are sung by the hero and heroine, but that makes them more effective, I feel. As Lalita walks off in a huff, if only to go next door, a street singer conveys the emotions of both lovers with
Chali Radhe rani, ankhiyon me paani, apne Mohan se mukhda mod ke
Maan bhari, abhimaan bhari nirmohi se nata tod ke, apne Mohan se mukhda mod ke
And as the two marry in secret, giggling girls celebrate the gudda-guddi ki shaadi with
Gore gore haathon men mehndi racha ke, naino me kajra daal ke
chalo dulhania piya se milne chhota sa ghunghat nikaal ke
Maybe these days a more direct approach is needed (that “you are mine’ thing), but with these two songs, lyricist Bharat Vyas and music director Aroon Kumar capture the essence of Lalita and Shekhar’s love; eternal (one assumes) as that of Radha and Krishna’s and innocent, as seen through the eyes of a little girl playing with dolls.
Neither image may work today, so it probably makes sense that Parineeta needed an update. And, perhaps the new one will work its own magic on a new generation (and maybe even me!), but thankfully, the video and DVD of the earlier version make it so easy to return to what seems to be a simpler place and time.
Parineeta, 1953 b/w
Director: Bimal Roy
Producer: Ashok Kumar Productions
Music: Aroon Kumar
Cast: Ashok Kumar, Meena Kumari, Asit Baran, Nasir Hussain