Alia Bhatt turned into Silsila’s lovelorn Chandni as she arrived at the celebratory screening of 1981 classic, Umrao Jaan, now restored by the National Film Development Corporation-National Film Archive of India under the National Film Heritage Mission, and also momentously re-released in theatres on June 27.
1981, mind you, was a big year for Rekha on the career front, what with the musical drama winning her, her only National Film Award for the grace and gravity with which she portrayed the titular role. Also having graced the movies that year, was Yash Chopra’s Silsila. A morally-grounded yet emotionally evocative love triangle, it was quite the controversial film at the time — the kind of controversy that follows the film’s legacy across decades, given the public conjecture surrounding the reel perceptively imitating the ‘real’.
Amitabh Bachchan starred front and centre as Amit, the object of desire, bound by duty and torn by love with Jaya Bachchan playing his demure wife, Shobha. That left Rekha to embody the crushing aura of unrequited love as she slipped into the shoes of Chandni, the ‘other woman’.
Chandni’s trajectory in Silsila followed a winding road of misery and misfortune as she found love, lost it to fate, found the courage to reclaim it for a few fleeting moments, only for it to be taken away, the only thing left in her possession at the end of it all being her grace. And that is where the masterstroke lies.
The history of cinema, homegrown and foreign, has for decades on end painted the other woman in rather convenient hues. Sultry, seductive and immoral, her selfishness only stood to represent temptation and wreckage, themes amply embodied in how she presented herself. Now in the language of cinema, the immorality that the other woman tends to represent is as sacred as the morality the wife reigns on. And that’s where the iconoclastic nature of Rekha’s Chandni wins. Well, Chandni doesn’t really ‘win’, but her presentation to the audience — much of it incidentally curated by Rekha herself — goes a big little way in highlighting the complexities of the other woman.
Bold reds, rani pinks, luxurious satin and subtle bling may not seem like a big deal now, but in context of Silsila’s Chandni, it very potentially represented the audacity of a woman to prioritise her own heart over that of society’s, though the context of it was and continues to be uncontestably abysmal. The reams of tulle, the short-cropped blouse sleeves and the halter necklines, gave hints of skin without really allowing the character to descend into the demeaning trappings of the trope. The nearly-constant wine-stained lips and crisply kohl-lined eyes further pushed the very same boundaries — all beautifully framed by Rekha’s signature gaze of defiant love.
This isn’t a justification of the rationale of the other woman — but an observation on sartoria being used to ever-so-subtly imprint her gall on the minds of the audience. It’s an early, and seemingly very intentional case study of fashion rebellion.
Silsila, with all its grace and contradictions, is available for streaming on OTT.
Alia Bhatt turned into Silsila’s lovelorn Chandni as she arrived at the celebratory screening of 1981 classic, Umrao Jaan, now restored by the National Film Development Corporation-National Film Archive of India under the National Film Heritage Mission, and also momentously re-released in theatres on June 27.
1981, mind you, was a big year for Rekha on the career front, what with the musical drama winning her, her only National Film Award for the grace and gravity with which she portrayed the titular role. Also having graced the movies that year, was Yash Chopra’s Silsila. A morally-grounded yet emotionally evocative love triangle, it was quite the controversial film at the time — the kind of controversy that follows the film’s legacy across decades, given the public conjecture surrounding the reel perceptively imitating the ‘real’.
Amitabh Bachchan starred front and centre as Amit, the object of desire, bound by duty and torn by love with Jaya Bachchan playing his demure wife, Shobha. That left Rekha to embody the crushing aura of unrequited love as she slipped into the shoes of Chandni, the ‘other woman’.
Chandni’s trajectory in Silsila followed a winding road of misery and misfortune as she found love, lost it to fate, found the courage to reclaim it for a few fleeting moments, only for it to be taken away, the only thing left in her possession at the end of it all being her grace. And that is where the masterstroke lies.
The history of cinema, homegrown and foreign, has for decades on end painted the other woman in rather convenient hues. Sultry, seductive and immoral, her selfishness only stood to represent temptation and wreckage, themes amply embodied in how she presented herself. Now in the language of cinema, the immorality that the other woman tends to represent is as sacred as the morality the wife reigns on. And that’s where the iconoclastic nature of Rekha’s Chandni wins. Well, Chandni doesn’t really ‘win’, but her presentation to the audience — much of it incidentally curated by Rekha herself — goes a big little way in highlighting the complexities of the other woman.
Bold reds, rani pinks, luxurious satin and subtle bling may not seem like a big deal now, but in context of Silsila’s Chandni, it very potentially represented the audacity of a woman to prioritise her own heart over that of society’s, though the context of it was and continues to be uncontestably abysmal. The reams of tulle, the short-cropped blouse sleeves and the halter necklines, gave hints of skin without really allowing the character to descend into the demeaning trappings of the trope. The nearly-constant wine-stained lips and crisply kohl-lined eyes further pushed the very same boundaries — all beautifully framed by Rekha’s signature gaze of defiant love.
This isn’t a justification of the rationale of the other woman — but an observation on sartoria being used to ever-so-subtly imprint her gall on the minds of the audience. It’s an early, and seemingly very intentional case study of fashion rebellion.
Silsila, with all its grace and contradictions, is available for streaming on OTT.
It is a long established fact that a reader will be distracted by the readable content of a page when looking at its layout. The point of using Lorem Ipsum is that it has a more-or-less normal distribution of letters, as opposed to using ‘Content here, content here’, making it look like readable English. Many desktop publishing packages and web page editors now use Lorem Ipsum as their default model text, and a search for ‘lorem ipsum’ will uncover many web sites still in their infancy.
It is a long established fact that a reader will be distracted by the readable content of a page when looking at its layout. The point of using Lorem Ipsum is that it has a more-or-less normal distribution of letters, as opposed to using ‘Content here, content here’, making it look like readable English. Many desktop publishing packages and web page editors now use Lorem Ipsum as their default model text, and a search for ‘lorem ipsum’ will uncover many web sites still in their infancy.
The point of using Lorem Ipsum is that it has a more-or-less normal distribution of letters, as opposed to using ‘Content here, content here’, making
The point of using Lorem Ipsum is that it has a more-or-less normal distribution of letters, as opposed to using ‘Content here, content here’, making it look like readable English. Many desktop publishing packages and web page editors now use Lorem Ipsum as their default model text, and a search for ‘lorem ipsum’ will uncover many web sites still in their infancy.
It is a long established fact that a reader will be distracted by the readable content of a page when looking at its layout. The point of using Lorem Ipsum is that it has a more-or-less normal distribution
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