Nausherwan-e-Adil (1957)

Today, November 11, is the birthday of Mala Sinha, so I decided to finally watch this film—not because it’s one of her best, but because it has three elements I’m partial to: it has music by C Ramachandra, it’s a historical, and it stars Mala Sinha.

I have to admit my love for Mala Sinha sees ups and downs, based on which film I’m watching. In a film like Pyaasa or Gumraah, where she has good roles (and good directors), she shows just how good an actress she is. And in an all-out entertainer like Aankhen, she’s equally unforgettable as the feisty, glamorous spy. These are the films I prefer to stuff like Anpadh, Hariyali aur Raasta, or even Baharein Phir Bhi Aayengi—because the melodrama is kept in check.

But one thing I’ll happily admit: I think Mala Sinha is lovely, and I’ll watch most films just to see her.

Anyway: to get back to Nausherwan-e-Adil (spelt Navsherwan-e-Adil, in the film’s credits). The film’s main title is Farz aur Mohabbat (the ‘Navsherwan-e-Adil’ is listed as an ‘alias’). That should give you an idea of what this is all about: the struggle between duty on the one hand and love on the other.

We begin in the court of the Iranian emperor Nausherwan the Just (or, in Urdu, ‘Nausherwan-e-adil’; Sohrab Modi). A young Jewish woman, along with her parents, has come to Nausherwan’s court, pleading for justice. She complains that a young man (also present) duped her into a romance, all the while telling her that he too was a Jew. Now it turns out he’s actually a Christian [the poor guy’s tunic is ripped open, so all can see the cross tattooed on his chest—cool!]…

…and the girl, thoroughly miffed, wants retribution for having been thus deceived.

Nausherwan doesn’t take much time to give a judgment: the young man is to be walled up alive.

Just as the prisoner’s being taken away, in comes David (Bipin Gupta), a Christian priest and physician, who lives far away from the city and is a recluse. [Also a bit of a crackpot, as is later revealed. Living far removed from society does that, occasionally].
David opposes the verdict and asks Nausherwan on what basis he’s sentenced the young man to such a hideous death.

Nausherwan’s right-hand men leap to his defence, saying that this is the law of Iran; how can David question it?
This prompts David to ask another question: where is this law written? More discomfiture and more blustering follow, until Nausherwan is forced to admit that this is the traditional punishment meted out to such miscreants.

He also realises that David has a point; unless a law is codified, it can’t be justifiably implemented. So Nausherwan has to let the young man go free, but compensates the wronged girl by imposing a hefty fine on the man, leaving him bankrupt.

Nausherwan now gives instructions to his wazir (Niranjan Sharma) to start drafting laws to deal with situations such as this. The wazir and the head priest (?) try to persuade Nausherwan that it’s unnecessary; Iran is a grand country, all the people are very happy, and there’s no need to change anything. [I suspect these two are simply trying to get out of doing any work].
Nausherwan seems to harbour similar suspicions, and tells them to get down to it.

He also decides that it’s time he went out, incognito [now where have I come across that before?] to see exactly how happy [or not] his subjects are.

Having established the fact that Nausherwan is appropriately referred to as ‘the Just’, the story moves on to his family. This consists of his wife (Naseem Bano, Saira Bano’s mum—and, if you pay close attention, you can actually notice a resemblance in features and tone), and his two sons. The elder son (and heir) is Naushahzaad (Raj Kumar); the younger son, Naushahzaad’s stepbrother, is Hormuzd [? Nobody I recognised, which is just as well—he disappears after this scene, and reappears only briefly at the end].

Naushahzaad is the main guy, and it’s on him that the story focusses. Our prince is a fun-loving person, who likes to spend time hunting and fishing with his companion/servant/general hanger-around, Askaf [Agha, who, with a curly wig, looks uncannily like Jalal Agha in some scenes].

One day, Naushahzaad and Askaf are beside a body of water (it’s not very clear whether it’s a river, a lake, or the sea), when they see a woman (Mala Sinha) floating by, seemingly dead, on what looks like a makeshift raft. [Somewhat Ophelia-esque—a coincidence, since Mala Sinha played Hamlet’s doomed girlfriend back in Hamlet, 1954].

Naushahzaad and Askaf fish her out, and Naushahzaad is smitten at first glance.

The pretty lady’s on the brink of death [to be precise, there’s no pulse], but Naushahzaad isn’t giving up easily. He and Askaf quickly row her across to the nearest physician they know of—who turns out to be David, the reclusive Christian priest. David tells the two men to get lost—and take the girl with them.
“I hate people from the city,” he tells his visitors, while asking Naushahzaad his name.

Naushahzaad, trying to ingratiate himself with the curmudgeonly David, says his name’s Joseph; he’s a Christian.

After much persuasion and pleading, David agrees to examine the ‘dead’ girl. He discovers that the girl’s pulse is there, but very weak, because she’s gone stone cold from her dunking in the water all this while. The three men pile blankets on her, light braziers, and soon enough, she gains consciousness. [It beats me how she’s survived all this while].

After a preliminary “Main kahaan hoon?” she says that her name is Marcia, and she was on her way with her mother to be united with her long-lost father. They were caught in a frightful storm, which has claimed Mummy and left Marcia here. She shows the crucifix that once belonged to her father—and oh! The coincidence!—David recognises it.
This was the crucifix that he had given his wife years ago, before she left him in a huff, along with their six-month old daughter.

[We never get to hear what David was guilty of for his wife to have been so miffed. As the film progresses, though, I’m not really surprised she did].
From there, it’s a short leap to “My daughter!”, “Father!”, and many tears of joy. [Nobody thinks to shed any tears for Marcia’s dead mum].

So Marcia is reunited with her father, and falls in love with ‘Joseph’, simultaneously.
Everyone’s very happy, and Marcia and Naushahzaad, unknown to their respective parents, spend all their evenings singing and making promises of ever-lasting love to each other.
Naushahzaad [perhaps lacking a little foresight?] doesn’t tell Marcia who he really is.

Meanwhile, Nausherwan has been going about in disguise at night, seeing how his people live, and discovering for himself that life isn’t quite as equable and jolly as the wazir & Co. think. Nausherwan makes his own decisions about improving life for the poor, even going so far as to order the sipahsalar, the commander (Murad) to have the outer wall of the citadel altered so that an old woman whose hut stands nearby doesn’t have to leave the home she’s always lived in.

Eventually, after much deliberation, Nausherwan and his advisers come up with two new laws:
(a) Any man who deceives a maiden [rather a vague term. “kunwaari ladki ko dhokha dena” is the phrase used] will be walled up alive.
(b) Any man who deceives the state will be imprisoned for life

One evening, the queen stops Nausherwan just as he’s setting out on another incognito excursion into town. She wants to go along with him, and Nausherwan is happy to have her accompany him.

As it happens, this is the same night that Askaf has been told repeatedly by Naushahzaad that he is to tell no-one at all, not even his wife (Shammi), about Naushahzaad’s love for Marcia. It must remain a secret.
Askaf’s having a hard time keeping mum, and is itching to tell someone. Finally, when he can’t hold it in any more, he blabbers it all out—to his pony. Unfortunately, he doesn’t realise that the king and queen, seated on their horses, are just behind him, and have heard every word.

Nausherwan is very displeased; the heir to the throne should be learning the ropes, not gallivanting around romancing the local women.

The same night, David—having woken up suddenly and discovered that Marcia’s nowhere to be found at home, sees her out boating with ‘Joseph’. When her boyfriend finally says good night and leaves Marcia on the shore, David approaches and gives her a talking-to.
Marcia’s protests that her relationship with Joseph is pure, and that David should at least trust his own daughter, make him eventually relent. He suggests a wedding, and Marcia is thrilled to bits.

Nausherwan isn’t quite so easily appeased [possibly because Naushahzaad doesn’t get a chance to talk about his love for Marcia]. Daddy reads the riot act to Naushahzaad: he’s been neglecting his duties, not showing up at court, not even coming to the prayer house. What is this, pray?
Naushahzaad had better clean up his act, Naushwerwan tells him imperiously. Come daily to the temple for prayers. And no stepping out of the palace without Daddy’s express permission.

Ouch.

The queen is present throughout the conversation, and realises (as does Nausherwan himself) that her son resents this diktat. When Naushahzaad leaves, Nausherwan requests his wife to go and reason with him.
The queen agrees, and is confronted by an irate son, who tells his mother that he doesn’t mind having to seek his father’s permission to go out—what riles him is the order to join Nausherwan in daily prayers.

Why, asks the surprised queen. “Because I’m a Christian,” says Naushahzaad. [This comes as a surprise to her, and to me. His pretending to be the Christian Joseph seemed to be only a masquerade, but this is serious stuff].

Now comes another surprise: it emerges that the queen herself is a Christian. [Well, Naushahzaad knew that, but it’s a revelation for us]. When Naushahzaad says, “If the queen of Iran can be a Christian, why can’t I?” she replies that the king of Iran—which Naushahzaad will one day be—can only be of the Iranian [I’m guessing this means Zoroastrian] faith.

His mother explains that when she married Nausherwan, she had to agree to the condition that their children would be brought up in the Iranian faith. If Nausherwan now discovers that Naushahzaad is a Christian, he’ll think the queen has betrayed his trust in her. It’s a matter of her honour, she says. Please, for the sake of your mother, keep your religion a secret. When Naushahzaad eventually becomes king, he can do as he pleases, but till then, he must not breathe a word about his being a Christian.

Naushahzaad agrees, albeit reluctantly.
And here arises a problem. Marcia and David know him to be a Christian [they don’t even know he’s the prince, but never mind that for now]. Except for his mother, everybody else thinks he’s an adherent of the Iranian faith.

And there are those two potentially-dangerous laws that have been drafted…

I am a lover of historical films, even the faux historicals, with facts thrown to the winds and wild flights of fancy ruling the screenplay. This one probably had as little to do with fact as did Jahanara or Shahjehan, but I still liked it.

What I liked about this film:

The cast. Sohrab Modi (who, as my father says, delivered his speeches as if “he was declaiming to the skies”) is rather more restrained and natural here. Mala Sinha is especially pretty, and in a refreshing departure from the usual hysterical historical female, shows she’s got backbone when it’s most needed. Not a kickass heroine, but a loyal and courageous one.

And—surprise, surprise—Raj Kumar. I’ve made no bones about the fact that Raj Kumar is one actor I can’t stomach. Here, he was surprisingly good, and looked pretty smart (despite the beard—or possibly because of it?).

C Ramachandra’s music. Three songs, in particular, stand out: the oft-repeated Taaron ki zabaan par hai mohabbat ki kahaani, Bhool jaayein saare gham doob jaayein pyaar mein; and the sad Yeh hasrat thhi ke is duniya mein bas do kaam kar jaate. All superb.

What I didn’t like:

The end. Logically, it made sense; the escapist me didn’t like it.

I have to confess: I’d wanted to watch Nausherwan-e-Adil mainly for the songs and for Mala Sinha. I hadn’t expected a film in which I’d find other elements to like—the costumes and art, for example, look rather authentic; the acting is mostly good; and the story is a simple, uncluttered one of the tussle between love (and not just romantic love) on the one hand, and duty on the other. Watchable enough.

Little bit of trivia:

Nausherwan-e-Adil (formally, Khosrau I) was a real man, the most famous of the Sassanid rulers of Persia. I couldn’t find any evidence that his queen was Christian, but interestingly enough, his grandson, Khosrau II, was married to a Nestorian Christian woman named Shirin. Their story, the romance of Khosrau and Shirin, formed the basis for the legendary love (also beloved of Hindi cinema) of Shirin and Farhad.

Happy birthday, Mala Sinha!

56 thoughts on “Nausherwan-e-Adil (1957)

  1. Terrific study! I was reading this essay by Jerry Pinto. I think in ‘The Popcorn Essayists.’ It said Mala Sinha too was a Christian. Lovely trivia there.

      • That was a lovely wedding picture, Madhulika! Thank you so much for sharing. Mala Sinha looks GORGEOUS :) By the way, Jerry Pinto’s essay (titled ‘The Woman Who Could Not Care’) was in First Proof vol. 1 (Penguin Books India, 2005), not in The Popcorn Essayists. My mistake there. The Mala Sinha-film Jerry mentions in his essay is ‘Suhaagan’ (released 1964). He also quotes a song from this film: “Tu mere saamne hai, teri zulfein hain khuli.” This one, too, seems like one of Mala Sinha’s better performances.

        • Yes, she does look gorgeous in that wedding photo! (Actually, much more beautiful than she looked in the wedding dress in Nausherwan-e-Adil). :-)

          I haven’t seen Suhaagan, but I’ve heard of the film – will look out for it, now.

  2. And of course, Mala Sinha was beautiful. Though I would prefer an ‘Anpadh’ or a ‘Bahaarein Phir Bhi Aayengi’ any day. I am used to seeing Mala Sinha as a woman who fights conventions and learns some hard lessons and then fights back again. She was never a passive heroine-ly heroine. Thank god for that! I have liked her in most of her films. Even in Rakesh Roshan’s ‘Khel.’ She has always been a stately, dignified persona who holds on her own, even when she played a lehnga-choli-clad gaon ki gori in ‘Himalay Ki God Mein.’ In ‘Ankhen,’ ‘Sanjog’ and ‘Bahaarein Phir Bhi Aayengi,’ of course, she played roles that heroines in those days didn’t really do. Mala Sinha could play a naive gaon ki gori, a wronged woman, a housewife and a kickass spy with equal aplomb. The evergreen songs of ‘Ankhen’ are playing in my mind now. And so is “Tumhari Nazar Kyon Khafa Ho Gayi?” from ‘Do Kaliyan.’

    • I somehow don’t like her weepy, overly melodramatic roles – Hariyali aur Raasta and Anpadh being amongst the greatest offenders, as far as I’m concerned. But give me an Aankhen, and I’m game for it any day! Or Dillagi, which is a little-known movie, but which I enjoyed a lot. She’s wonderful in that, and her pairing with Sanjay Khan (I wouldn’t have thought that have worked) was surprisingly good.

      • Sanjay Khan was a dish! No, honestly, he was far better looking than his cocky brother Feroz. And Mala Sinha-Sanjay Khan make such a lovely couple. Thank you for telling me about this movie, I hadn’t known about this. The only old ‘Dillagi’ I knew about was that terrific comedy starring Dharmendra and Hema Malini in the lead, supported by a bevy of capable actors: Mithu Mukherjee, Preeti Ganguly, Deven Verma, Shatrughan Sinha and others. The film was set in a Santiniketan-ish women’s college and is a love story between two teachers: Chemistry teacher Hema Malini (who the girls call “Carbon Dioxide” as she is very strict) and Sanskrit teacher Dharmendra (who all the girls have a crush upon). There are a few good songs too, my favourites being “Main kaun sa geet sunaoon” and the Holi song. As for ‘Anpadh’ and ‘Hariyali aur Raasta,’ they are family favourites (and such lovely songs too), so I better don’t comment on them. ;)

        • One more thing, apart from the heavenly “Aap ki nazaron ne samjha pyaar ke kaabil mujhe,” I will remember ‘Anpadh’ as, perhaps, the only film starring two of Bollywood’s best vamps together: Shashikala (as Mala Sinha’s friend) and Bindu (as Mala Sinha’s daughter), though they don’t share any screen space. And talking of Dharmendra and Mala Sinha together, have you seen ‘Neela Akash?’

        • Hansda, I’m so glad to have found a kindred soul, who likes Sanjay Khan better than Feroz! I do, too – there’s something about Feroz Khan that generally turns me off (I think that ‘cockiness’ you mention – very apt).

          I remember having watched the Dharmendra-Hema Malini Dillagi, years ago – I recall only the basic gist of it.

          • Add me to that club, Madhu. To me, Feroz Khan looked petulant with his pink lips – he always seemed to be pouting, even when he was not. Sanjay, on the other hand, had a boyish charm that was quite endearing.

            • Sanjay, on the other hand, had a boyish charm that was quite endearing.

              And, thinking back, I realise that I like more Sanjay Khan movies than I do Feroz Khan ones – like Intaqaam, Haqeeqat (okay, he didn’t have a big role there, but still), Dillagi, Dhund

  3. Happy Birthday Mala Sinha!
    It does bear some resemblance to Yahudi andPukar, doesn’t it?
    In that that the king caught between filial love and the laws of the country.
    I have always preferred the restrained Raaj Kumar and couldn’t stand the jaani Raaj Kumar!
    The story sounds to be very engaging and I love Sohrab Modi’s Parsi theatre declamations and I like the score a lot! So it should be a film for me!

    • I haven’t seen Pukar yet, unfortunately – but yes, the resemblance to Yahudi (which I thought drew from Quo Vadis did occur to me too. You should watch this one – it’s pretty good. It’s certainly one of the better-scripted historicals I’ve seen. And the music and lead pair are great! :-)

      I don’t like the ‘jaani’ Raj Kumar either! Till I watched this film, I thought he’d been most likeable in Dil Ek Mandir (barring that dumb decision to have his wife marry her old lover… but that’s a shortcoming of the character, not of Raj Kumar himself). Now his role as Naushahzaad is my favourite.

      By the way, the film is available on Youtube. Here is part 1:

  4. Ah ha!! So it was Raaj Kumar!! :-D
    I like him very much so the thought didn’t occur.
    The songs of this film are absolutely beautiful.
    And of course, like you, I love historicals.
    The story (real/unreal) was very interesting because of it’s background.
    Mala Sinha looks pretty, Raj Kumar handsome and they do make an attractive pair.

    Thank you DO. Loved your way of reviewing After a preliminary “Main kahaan hoon?” she says that her name is Marcia, :-D.
    Main kahaan hoon – must have been said in innumerable films.

    Happy Birthday Mala Sinha.

    • Thank you, pacifist! You know, as soon as Marcia came to in that scene and sat up, looking dazed, I thought, “Now she’s going to ask, ‘Main kahaan hoon?’” :-) Not that I blame her, in this case – surrounded by strange men.

      Raj Kumar and Mala Sinha really did look very attractive here, And the chemistry between them was quite good too.

  5. I have loved the songs of this movie forever, the ones you have listed. The story sounds pretty interesting.

    I found Sohrab Modi pretty restrained in Sikander as well, though it was hard to concentrate on him with Prithviraj looking so gorgeous in that film.

    Raj Kumar I like too, just like Pacifist. I do hope the movie ended happily and no one got ‘diwar me chunva do’ orders.

    Going to listen to the beautiful songs and sigh my heart away.

    • I did mention that I didn’t like the end – but not because anyone was chunvaaoed into a deewaar. That didn’t happen, but it didn’t end happily.

      Now I must watch Sikandar too. I know it’s up on the Edu Productions page (isn’t it?), but I’ve not got around to downloading it yet. Must do – especially as Prithviraj Kapoor does look so gorgeous in the couple of scenes I’ve seen from it so far. Thanks for reminding me of that, Ava!

  6. Liked your asides just as much as I liked your review, Madhu, which is to say, I liked them both very much. :) Not my favourite star-pair though I can take both of them, separately, in small doses, I still liked Nausherwan-e-Adil. A very unhistorical historical it might have been, but there was an attention to detail (that you pointed out) that I really liked.

    Happy Birthday, Mala Sinha. I do apologise for not liking you better.

    • Thank you, Anu! I can’t resist those asides, can I? Not even when it’s an otherwise-enjoyable film. ;-)

      Sohrab Modi’s films did tend to be slightly more accurate as to detail than some other historicals (I’m thinking films like Dara Singh’s, right now) – barring Dilip Kumar’s crazy ankle-length tunics in Yahudi.

      • That’s right, Sohrab Modi was more particular about details, particularly the historical facts and charcterisations.
        Since he belonged to the school of classic theater, his filming techniques, dialogues and delivery of dialigues bore heavy infulence of theater of that time.

  7. Happy Birthday, Mala…you are & will always be one of my favourite heroines! I feel the same way, she was absolutely fantastic in films where she wasn’t weeping or contemplating suicide, if only somebody would give her her hard-earned lifetime achievement award!

  8. I also feel the same. In fact i feel in negative role Amrish puri Deserved the life time achievement award… Don’t know why they not realize to do this….

  9. Here I am break ke baad. My personal affairs are keeping me away from cyber space. I saw this film many, many years ago on doordarshan did not much like it and yes I too noticed the resemblance to Yahudi.
    Will go through your other posts later, they appear to be interesting, by the way I found Shama in cyber space will send you link later.

  10. Hi,

    As usual a very good review. Mala Sinha & Biswajit won, “Star Screen Lifetime Achievement Awards” in 2007. She does deserve a filmfare award too.
    Thanks

  11. Oh, so I like all the actors (pre 70s) with the initials R.K. in their names and you don’t.
    Sohrab Modi also directed this and it seems did a good job, I wonder how Bimal Roy messed Yahudi so badly. Maybe his only mistake as a director.
    Coincidentally, I was watching ‘Humsaya’ today which stars Mala Sinha with Joy Mukherjee and Sharmila Tagore and has an improbable plot of Indian and Chinese as lookalikes (!).She plays a chinese in that film. I only watched the film for the first time today , the writers had some imagination!

    • For a moment I thought the character David is actually the actor David Abraham , he is of Jewish -Indian descent according to IMDB. deliberate reference?

      • I remember watching Humsaaya many years ago, when it was shown on Doordarshan. I don’t remember much of it except for Joy Mukherji’s double role, and (of course) the very pretty heroines.

        From what I remember, Mala Sinha also played a non-Indian woman (Burmese, perhaps? It’s been so long, I don’t recall) in Detective. This sad but lovely song is from that film:

    • Astute observation! I hadn’t thought of it before, but yes – I don’t seem to like the pre-70s actors with ‘RK’ as their initials. Rajesh Khanna I do like in some of his early roles – like Ittefaq, Khamoshi and Anand, so he’s one exception. But, to compensate: in the 70s, one of my all-time favourite actors is an RK – Rishi Kapoor. :-)

      • I recall you mentioned ‘liking’ Sangam, Isn’t it? I am not a fan of that or Bobby – maybe the cliched plots?-
        Rishi Kapoor is underrated , why would anyone ‘not’ like him in the 70s? He held his own in Amar Akbar Anthony. I thought those script writers were unfair to Bachchan’s co stars with Amitabh overshadowing them. Vinod Khanna specially looked like a ‘supporting actor’ many times. The big exception – Pran.

        • Well, Sangam is a little better (in my opinion) than some of RK’s other films (for example, Aah or Barsaat), so… I don’t really like it in the way I like Chori Chori, but yes, it’s bearable. Bobby I saw when I was less than a year old, so I have no recollections of it!

          Rishi Kapoor is vastly underrated. I thought he was fabulous in Amar Akbar Anthony, and most of his films were thoroughly entertaining.
          True, Bachchan’s co-stars often ended up getting the short end of the stick. Shashi Kapoor may have been one exception, I think…

  12. Though Mala was Nepali by birth, her few but scintillating performances in Bengali cinema, perpetually made her one of our own. Also her title was misleading since we, bengalis have a familiar title of “Sinha”! Anyway, she was discovered by Bengali film-maker Ardhendu Bose who set her ball rolling with Roshanara (1952). Peace.
    AD

    • I’d started off thinking she was Bengali too, until I discovered a few years ago that she was actually Nepali by birth. I believe she went to school in Calcutta, though. Haven’t seen any of her Bangla films, but would love some recommendations!

      • Her best Bengali films, I’d say are Lookochuri and Shohorer Itikotha. Though people here remember Lookochuri mostly because of Kishore da’s unimitable antics, she has breezy, refreshing and jovial act in the film. Also I cannot resist myself to add a sleazy anecdote: we have a common play of words with her name-Mala D! (Remember ‘di’ is the bengali for elder sister) Peace.
        AD

        • Thank you. I have heard of Lookochuri, though only with reference to Kishore’s antics in it. Will look out for it.

          Hehe. That ‘Mala D’ thing is wicked! Incidentally, when I studied hotel management, back in the early 90s, ‘Mala Sinha’ was the term usually applied to a large conical steel colander – the idea being that it resembled the top half of her figure!

  13. Hi Dustedoff! Happy Diwali! :D Sort of late, since it’s past midnight already, but still. :D I remember lighting lamps and playing with sparklers and going out to dinner. Last Diwali they were showing Jewel Thief on TV, so I insisted on staying home. So much fun!

  14. I tend to veer between like and dislike of Mala Sinha too, based on the film. But she is certainly lovely. And Raj Kumar, I always like watching. :)
    This film looks quite good, the frames seem like that they are out of an illustrated book. And the story sounds interesting.

    • Yes, the frames do look rather out of an illustrated book. :-) I’d been thinking of putting in a screen shot of David’s chapel – which was really rather nice – but then omitted it. See the film, when and if you get the time: it’s not perfect, but it’s quite good time pass.

  15. Thanks for a very entertaining review, Madhu.:-) My feelings on the lead pair in “Nausherwan-e-Adil” are the opposite of yours – can’t stand Mala Sinha, like Raaj Kumar – but I agree with your take on the film. It’s an interesting watch on multiple levels – the music, the performances and it’s semi-thoughtful examination of Big Ideas such as Love, Duty, Justice, etc.

    Speaking of movies revolving around justice, have you seen “Adil-e-Jahangir” (1955)? I think you’ll enjoy it.

    • Thank you for the Adil-e-Jahangir recommendation, Shalini! I’d never heard of it, but anything historical – and with Meena Kumari in it (provided she’s not terribly weepy…) is grist for my mill. Will keep an eye out for it.

      • I too would like to get hold of this Adl-e-Jahangir!!

        As for N-e-A – I LOVE the song Taaron Ki Zubaan Par – when I first heard it I remember spending ages online trying to find out which film it’s from so I could get the CD :-)

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