Latest news with #Aandhi
Time of India
26-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Time of India
Sharmila Tagore screamed at Sanjeev Kumar when he was six hours late, stopped talking to him: 'Gulzar Sahab had to pacify me'
Sharmila Tagore 's charm in the films especially made in the 60s and 70s was hard to miss. She still continues to remain an inspiration for her work ethics and also how gracefully she carries herself. Not to mention, she's so poised and way ahead of time. The actress made a great pairing with Rajesh Khanna but Tagore has often spoken about how he would be late on set. Another actor who had a bad reputation for always being late was Sanjeev Kumar . Many actresses have spoken about him for being late but Sharmila had also scolded and screamed at him. She had once spoken about Sanjeev Kumar on ' The Kapil Sharma Show '. She mentioned, "Sanjeev Kumar was my favorite. That time we used to have double shifts, so in the morning I was working with him in Faraar, and in the evening I worked with him on Mausam. I was playing a sex worker in the film, and it was my first day. I was very excited, we had a shift from 2 pm to 10 pm. I was ready to give the shot at 2 pm, and he came at 8 pm. I got so angry with him and said lots of things. Gulzar Sahab had to pacify me.' Sharmila stopped talking to him since that day, but when she saw 'Aandhi' she complimented him for his work and they started talking again. She said, "The shooting kept going on, but I was not talking to him even when we shot for Faraar. Then I went and saw Aandhi and loved the film. So the next day, he was in the dressing room next to me, I knocked at his door and told him that he is a very good actor. We shook hands and I forgave him. But I told him that next time, if he is planning to be late, he should inform me, because it is very rude otherwise. Then we became friends. He was a lovely person.' The 'Chupke Chupke' actress had also confessed once that it was a relief for her when she started doing less films with Rajesh Khanna because he was always late. She confessed being very punctual so that she can finish work on time and spend time with family. However, that was impossible as Khanna would never turn up before 12pm for a 9am shift. Check out our list of the latest Hindi , English , Tamil , Telugu , Malayalam , and Kannada movies . Don't miss our picks for the best Hindi movies , best Tamil movies, and best Telugu films .
Indian Express
06-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Indian Express
‘When Life Gives You Tangerines' made me realise I've become my father
It was a laid-back Sunday afternoon. My father was outside, dyeing his hair and cleaning the garden like always. Inside, my mum worked her magic in the kitchen, filling the house with the comforting aroma of her Bihari chicken curry. And right on cue, we would all gather around the TV for the weekly Doordarshan movie premiere, a tradition that only happened during Sunday lunch because schools were shut. That day, the film was Aandhi, a 1975 romantic drama starring Sanjeev Kumar and Suchitra Sen. I still remember the moment when JK, Kumar's character, silently drops his ex-wife Aarti, Sen's character, to the helicopter that takes her away, because that's when I noticed my father's eyes welling up. It wasn't the first time I saw him cry, the first was when my grandfather died. I was only three, and my only memory from that day is of my father, inconsolable and almost child-like in grief. Back then, I believed that crying was a sign of weakness. No one corrected me. By then, my parents had settled into their rhythm of parenting. They knew the drill, and there wasn't much left to explain. I figured things out on my own, picking up beliefs and stitching together ideologies by watching the people around me. And one of those beliefs was this: I would never become my father. He was not a bad or weak man, but I was afraid of inheriting the parts of him I didn't understand or like. Yet, cut to 2025, and there I was, watching When Life Gives You Tangerines at 2 am, tears streaming down with every episode. And in that quiet, emotional unraveling, it hit me: I had become my father. Despite all the resistance and promises I made to myself, I am him. But as we grow older, life softens that resistance. Now, I find myself repeating my father's gestures, using his sayings, and sometimes, even approaching problems with the same anxiousness or stubborn pride. It's not that I have given up on being our own person, it's that I have begun to understand where he is coming from, and realise his ways were shaped by fear, love, and hope, just like mine. When I started watching the show, I wasn't expecting a 'bittersweet' Korean series to feel so personal. The show is gentle, slow-paced, and simple, a story about family, memory, and the strange, often bittersweet symmetry between generations. But as I watched, something shifted in me. Scene after scene, character after character, I started seeing someone familiar reflected in me: My father. And then, unsettlingly, myself. As a child, and later as a teenager, I became hyper-aware of the traits that made his life complicated. His temper that flared over small things, his inability to articulate an apology when he was wrong, his habit of pushing through stress while ignoring his health, and his refusal to slow down. He carried the weight for everything, not silently, but out loud, in arguments, in sharp ripostes, in anxious silences. I told myself I would be different. I had to be. But I am no different. Similar to how Gem Yong in the show tries not to be her father. She, deep down, associated his quietness and self-sacrifice with emotional distance. Growing up, she saw Gwan Shik as someone who gave so much of himself but never really asked for anything. She didn't want to live a life where she constantly put others first and lost her own voice in the process. So she pushed against that part of herself, trying to be more independent, more vocal, maybe even a little rebellious, anything to avoid feeling stuck or unseen like she thought her father was. But, in trying not to be him, she still carried so much of him inside her. The strength, the loyalty, they were in her, too. As a teenager, I used to hate it when my father insisted we spend every summer holiday at my nani's place instead of going on a proper family vacation. His reason? 'You won't be able to finish your holiday homework if we go traveling.' It frustrated me to no end. I swore I'd never do that to my own kids one day. I imagined a future full of spontaneous trips and zero homework talk. But now, when I get the chance to mother my nephews, something surprising happens. In those small moments—reminding them to finish their work before playing, or saying 'maybe next time' to a fun plan—I hear my father in my own voice. I use the same reasoning, the same tone, and I catch myself mid-sentence. And in that pause, I realise exactly where it's coming from, from a place of care and quiet love. I spent a large part of my adolescence and early adulthood trying to distance myself from him, not emotionally, but behaviourally. I wanted to be calm, open to criticism, able to laugh at my flaws, unbothered by the messiness of life. I promised myself I'd never yell, I'd never put work before well-being, and most of all, I'd never be vulnerable but I became oversensitive with time. Adulthood has a way of humbling you. Slowly, quietly, it makes you look into mirrors you've been avoiding. When Life Gives You Tangerines became one such mirror. The show doesn't dramatise family tension; it whispers it. It shows how love can be stubborn and imperfect and how, without realising it, we become the very people we swore we'd never be. Somewhere in those scenes, the quiet resentment of an adult child, the misplaced affection of a well-meaning parent, I saw my own life panning out. I am my father.
India.com
02-05-2025
- Entertainment
- India.com
This actress left cinema at peak of her career, locked herself in room for 36 years, did not allow even her family to meet her, never showed her face again, died due to…
When an individual aspires to be an actor or to enter the showbiz industry, they think of moving ahead with name, fame, and success. However, in many cases, there are actors and actresses who, despite having the name and fame, meet with a tragic end. Today, we will discuss an actress who became the first one to receive an award at an international film festival in the year 1963. Not just that, she was loved by millions of her fans. However, her end gave horrors to people who got to know she had passed away. If you are wondering who we are discussing, then this person is none other than one of the most celebrated and fine actresses in Indian cinema – Suchitra Sen. Suchitra started her journey with Bengali cinema in 1952. Two years later, Sen moved to Hindi cinema and then worked in the industry for almost three decades. During this time, she worked in over 30 films and was even paired opposite Uttam Kumar. The duo gave some major hits. Sen also gave some iconic hits such as Devdas, Aandhi, Bambai Ka Babu, and Mamta. Till the mid-70s, Suchitra became one of the top actresses in the industry. Movies like Aandhi received critical acclaim and Datta was a commercial success. However, after these two films, Suchitra appeared in only one film. Her last release – Pranay Pasha in 1978 – turned out to be a huge failure. Coming to Suchitra's personal life, she got married at a young age. It was her in-laws and husband who supported Suchitra to pursue her dream of becoming an actor. However, when Suchitra Sen's stardom peaked, she remained busy most of the days, giving less time to her family and husband. As a result, it created massive fights between the two. Not just that, Suchitra's husband also drowned himself in alcohol and then left Suchitra and went to America. He died there in the year 1970. After Suchitra distanced herself from the acting field, the actress confined herself and locked herself in a room for 36 years. She used to sleep and eat in the same room. Even no family member was allowed to meet her. Not just that, whenever the actress would step out of her room at home, her face would always be covered with a cloth. And when she died in 2014, her face was covered and no one was allowed to see her face. It was said that Suchitra joined the Bharat Maharaj of Ramakrishna Ashram and devoted herself to spirituality.
