'Sholay' turns 50: Why India's most iconic film still captures our hearts

Khaleej Times

12 hours ago

Te bullet hit Jai's right abdomen. Dragging himself towards a cover of huge boulders, he tries to be discreet as Gabbar's men prowl around. Soon Veeru, his bestie returns with more ammunition as decided intending to resume their fight against Gabbar Singh (the dacoit), but Jai aka Jaidev succumbs to his injuries. As death parts them, Jai whispers regrettably how he won't be able to keep his promise to narrate stories of their adventure to Veeru's unborn kids, instead he insists that Veeru must continue by describing the tales of their incomparable friendship. The conversation dips, camera pulls back from a close up to a mid-shot as Jai's motionless body lay with Veeru bawling. The background score plays the friendship anthem, Yeh dosti (translated: O our friendship) in a slow staccato.
No sooner did my senses get attuned to this onscreen moment, I tear up inconsolably, as I complete watching Sholay one more time! And this was just last week. I wondered what made me so palpably emotional over a sequence which I knew by heart after all my generation (Gen X) has grown up watching Sholay. We waited out for that lone annual telecast of Sholay on Doordarshan (State Television), on a Sunday evening, often during winter months. Then came in home videos (1990), we again watched Sholay and then, YouTube. I even recall searching for Sholay on YouTube during its toddler month.
Yet, an unexplainable emotion had gripped me through the three-hour-plus film. This unfettered attachment with Sholay is beyond reasoning, perhaps it's an emotional connect, a state of mind that goes beyond commonplace fanhood. Surely, Sholay is a collective state of mind that represents 'Desi' like no other. In the over century-long history of the Hindi film industry, only a handful of films have generated such hysteria and frenzy, transcending generations.
Sholay is, thus, personal and 'collective' all at once.
Back in 1975: When Sholay was Born
Sholay was released on August 15, 1975 — a year that proved significant for Hindi cinema, marked by diverse storytelling and growing technical finesse.
A cursory run through the list of films released would reveal a long list of heavyweight, memorable titles including Yash Chopra's Deewar (The Wall), Gulzar's Andhi (Dust Storm), Khushboo (Aroma), Mausam (The Season), Hrishikesh Mukherjee's Chupke Chupke (Quietly), and Mili, thrillers Farar (Fugitive), Zakhmee (The Injured), socially relevant Nishant (The Night's End), religious eulogy Jai Santoshi Ma, out of the box Zameer (Conscience) and more. But Sholay isn't simply memorable or heavyweight, it is iconic, a cult that has influenced Bollywood like no other. Deewar comes very close.
Fascinatingly, Sholay had a rocky start. Its initial run at the Minerva Cinema (1,500 seats) in Bombay was perplexing. The first show of the day was slated at 9:30 am while the last was set for 2 am. Despite multiple shows, the crowd mostly remained indifferent in their responses, no applaud, no whistles! To make things worse, the reviews were harsh. None found any attribute of a 'masterpiece' a status that the film holds today. Indian Express had a header, 'Yet another Dacoit film with a Hollywood Touch', while the sharp readers' magazine Illustrated Weekly (August 31,1975) noted, 'Ramesh Sippy has introduced a feeling of verve and some of the action is gripping but no sooner you are out of theatre its gon[e]...' The review even dismissed Salim Javed's incredible script.
As stress set in, word of mouth did its magic, the film picked up and the rest as the cliché says, is history.
Sholay would run at the Minerva Cinema for next five years and at Plaza in Delhi for two years, setting myriad sweeping records like Platinum Jubilee (75 weeks in a single theatre). With the film's success, Polydor Company soon released its soundtrack album, including dialogues, which became such a hit that it prompted the release of a second vinyl. This time it was just the dialogues! The cover of the vinyl read, 'The Greatest Record Ever Made' and '1st Platinum Disc In the History of Indian Gramophone Record Industry'. Adding to its growing popularity, loudspeakers blared the songs and karari (a word frequently used in the movie, translates to 'crisp') dialogues — like ' Kitne aadmi the?' (How many were they?) — during festivals.
The Right Chord
Sholay was made in an era when 'content' wasn't accepted and declared as the ultimate showstopper unlike today. Yet Sholay's unfathomable popularity is rooted in its core story.
Its heartbeat is ingrained in the story, the way it was written by legendary Salim–Javed (Salim Khan and Javed Akhtar) who drew their craft inspiration from Western Spaghetti films like The Magnificent Seven, Five Man Army, Once Upon a Time in the West (Sergio Leone), North West Frontier (a British Production). Like the writers, the twenty something director Ramesh Sippy, also found his adrenaline in Hollywood, its immaculately designed action sequences, and overall restrain. Unknown to many, Sippy hired British action and stunt specialist Jim Allen and Jerry Crampton to scale up the action sequences in the project. Allen had already worked with Sergio Leone the maker of Once Upon a Time in the West while Crampton would later become a key crew in the action department in Richard Attenborough's Gandhi.
With Salim–Javed on board, it was a perfect sync — resulting in a cutting-edge action film that captured desi sentiments: the battle between good and evil, the essence of human bonding between friends and romantic partners, and the dynamic between ruler and subjects (Thakur Baldev Singh and the villagers of Ramgarh).
Over the years, in numerous interviews, Khan and Akhtar have shared how, in 1973, they narrated two ideas to the Sippys: a complete script titled Majboor (Compelled) and a four-line concept called Sholay, eventually partnering on the latter. Over the next few months, their genius resulted in the script of Sholay, routinely working from a small office at Khar in Bombay. Khan had also opened up on how elements of Sholay were directly related with his personal life including the names of the protagonists' Jai and Veeru (based on the names of his two college friends), while the world of police and jail was created from his father's experiences as a senior police officer.
The brilliance of Salim-Javed lay in transforming all that was 'personal' into universal.
By mid '80s, Sholay had attained its 'mythic' status, integrating in the urban lore of India; a creative work that was way larger than life. Fans continued to listen to its then ten-year-old sound album on cassette or on vinyl. Once the vinyl was gone, they looked out for the home videos. Every video parlour of 80s-90s, worth their salt, had Sholay in their collection. I still recall facing a fiery music from my mum for my obsession of playing the title track on loop, in our old HMV turntable called Siesta.
Honestly, I was captivated by the film's title track, I still am, a timeless composition by none other than one of the all-time greatest of Bollywood music RD Burman. Millions were enamoured too. Four decades later, upon acquiring a smartphone, I combed the Internet for that very same title track and set it as my ringtone.
As for dialogues, the ones that are big favourites in today's meme culture, and pop up regularly as virals were mostly uttered by the evil antihero character — the dacoit leader Gabbar Singh in the film, along with the humorous dialogues of the jailor (Asrani) and Surma Bhopali (Jagdeep).On the popularity chart, Gabbar remains unquestionably at the top, even as Sholay turns 50. In fact hardly after a year or two post the film's success, a Britannia's Glucose-D Biscuit ad came up with a catchline 'Gabbar Ki Asli Pasand' translated simply as 'Gabbar's choice'. The ad film part of the campaign was screened in theatres across the country. In reality, Khan was hesitant to do the ad because Gabbar represented 'evil' and hence gave away his whopping honorarium of Rs40,000 to charity. The catchline lives on though.
Offscreen a kind hearted man, Amjad Khan emerged as a prized actor for antihero portrayals, while Amitabh Bacchan's 'angry young man' genre got its final wind on the sail with Sholay. Neighbourhoods saw gents' saloons popping with kitsch portraits of Jai and Veeru painted (hair style) many of them were named as Bombay Saloon. On a lighter note, 'best friends forever' now had a new name — Jai-Veeru.
There was no looking back.
Sholay-themed curios entered the market, opening up new potential for Bollywood ephemera. Alongside, a whole class of Bollywood collectors also emerged. Film posters stowed away in hole-in-the-wall shops of Chor Bazaar in Bombay found their way into drawing rooms, as more mass-market reprints of Sholay and Deewar posters were also churned out. I still sometimes brood over my unintentional giveaway of a planner (notebook) designed with production stills from Hindi cinema — one of the months featured a shot from the song sequence Yeh Dosti — to a younger cousin.
At the turn of the millennium, BBC India attributed Sholay as 'Film of the Millenium' and three years later British Film Institute (BFI) listed it as 'Top Ten Indian Films' via a poll the institute had conducted. These are among the numerous laurels that the film had received globally over the years.
Today, Sholay turns 50. No other Indian film has generated such enormous mania and conversation in the public realm — from casual gossip at hyperlocal gents' salons in small towns across the subcontinent to unending scholarship around the world, Sholay has been with us and within us. Had it been a human being, it would have been a friend — inseparable, like Jai and Veeru!