logo

A lot of discussion has happened on PFC pages about alleged pseudos kowtowing to Hollywood/World Cinema and assorted issues of sophistication and tastes. I think it’s time we start serious analysis of Hindi cinema to ensure an even keel in any future ‘Anatomy of Scene’ discussions on these pages. After umpteen requests from millions around the world, I, humbly, take the leadership role in this battle for restoring pride in Hindi cinema (this is where I and Rahul Gandhi diverge in our values who turns a blind eye to Arjun Singh’s requests).

Somewhere in the first hour of Iqbal Durrani’s magnum opus Khuddar (Govinda, Karishma), there’s a scene which has remain etched in my memory. A scene where my samosa clutching hand remained suspended in mid air as celluloid magic took over. Govinda, playing a tough cop, “Inispektar Siddhant’ or something of that ilk, takes Karishma to task for dancing to songs like Sexy Sexy (later changed to Baby Baby in a deft sleigh of hand by the censor board which made the song safe for children across the nation except for my Mallu friend named Baby Verghese who wanted to sue Anu Malik/Indeevar for abusing his cherubic name). Anyway, coming back to the scene, Karishma after hearing Govinda’s lecturebaazi on naari, sanskriti and laaj forces him to come to her home and brings out a brood of homeless children who are dependent on her (life had really delivered a lemon to these children, first homeless and then having uni-browed Karishma as caretaker). She then delivers these awesome lines:

“Main apne tangon ka maans isliye dikhati hoon taaki in masoomon ke tangon pe maans chadh sake.” (translation: I show the flesh of my legs so that these poor kids can have flesh on theirs).

What’s the point, the impatient among you ask? The point is I am writing a ‘how to’ book on scriptwriting for Hindi movies. As the more experienced among you would know, none of the established scriptwriting principles of Hollywood/Universe can be applied to Hindi cinema. So, the crying need of the hour is a textbook which trains young aspiring writers to write scenes like the one above from Khuddar. As usual, my philanthropic instincts have prodded me to start this initiative and I will do it for free on the pages of PFC (isn’t this platform great?). Don’t worry about me, I will spread false stories about my personal life on national media and make money from some MNC cosmetic firm (Chhaiyan Chhaiyan aunty taught me that) or I will sue the Roshans if I see them using some of my scriptwriting principles (they are very generous in that regard).

For the first chapter, today, we will focus on the first principle of a successful Hindi film script – “Drama Maane Majboori”.

All great Hindi film scripts are based on the above principle. Majboori makes the world go round as Karishma showed us in Khuddar. Or, as the standard line went in my college – “majboori ka naam Mahatma Gandhi.” With that homage to the father of the nation, let’s understand this better (as usual my style of teaching involves using simple Subhash Ghai kind of English and lots of examples).

A good majboori is the one where you force the audience to kick the seat in front of them with helpless exasperation since they can easily see how to solve the problem but no one in film has that clarity of vision. A good majboori respects the intellect of the audience while sniggering at that of the actors’. Budding scriptwriters may keep this advice from David Ogilvy (in another context) in mind while crafting a majboori– “the customer isn’t a moron. She is your wife.” A bad majboori on the other hand is one which the audience can’t solve to save their lives. For example, when the Finance Minister blames the steel and cement cartel for the inflation going north of 7% and saying he is majboor, we see a prime example of bad majboori. Lesson: never have a Finance Minister in your script unless it is a Mithun project and the Finance Minister is needed because finance rhymes with dance, chance and romance.

The first thing that you need to remember about a good majboori is that it should be of the kind that anyone of us might have faced and reacted in absolutely the same way. What I mean is that the majboori and its reaction should be “believable”. Like Rani Mukerji’s majboori in Laaga Chunari Mein Daag. Deconstruction.

Believable majboori: The aarthik haalaat (economic conditions) of the house are in dire straits and Rani as the older child needs to take on the family responsibility
Believable reaction: Rani after some minor struggles for employment in big bad Mumbai turns into a high-end call girl who huskily introduces herself as Natasha.

See that, anyone of us in that position might have done exactly that. I know so many girls from my neighbourhood who went on to do exactly the same. The guys with bad aarthik haalat at their homes, unfortunately, went on to become ‘nayak nahin khalnayak’. Same believable story! That’s what makes it work and that’s the reason why I kicked the seat in front of me so many times. It’s called empathy. Putting your neighbour into Rani’s shoes. And then asking Rani to walk without footwear.

The second aspect of a good majboori is that it should force people to get laid or get married (in any order). This always works with our audience. Sex can never be for recreation. It has to be on account of a greater cosmic purpose. It’s either for procreation (as that song from Jeetendra-Jaya Prada starrer ‘Maa’ went ‘tere ang se mila mera ang to munna ban gaya’) or it is majboori. Kya karen, karna pada. Majboor yeh haalat idhar bhi hain aur udhar bhi.

One common theme explored in this area is the “sharirik garmi” business so evocatively shown in Ganga Jamuna Saraswati where Meenakshi Sheshadri needed it or in Aa Gale Lag Ga where Sharmila needed it on account of being left out in cold Kashmir winter. Amitabh and Shashi Kapoor duly obliged. Majboori in its purest form! Or the best of this genre, Kanti Shah’s (the legendary director of Gunda) ‘Free Entry’ where the heroine is saved from being drowned in sea on a balmy day in Bangkok by the hero who then goes ahead and gives her the sharirik garmi drill despite no tell tale signs of she requiring it. And when she wakes up, she asks ‘aisa tumne kyun kiya’. He responds ‘meri majboori thii’ and they decide to get married and not live happily every after since the ‘humshakal’ sister of the heroine arrives who believes in free entry (as the voiceover informs us in advance predicting doom). And, there is another round of majboori to contend with.

In summary, a good majboori should titillate while you empathize with the protagonists. It’s a tightrope walk (like Pran does in the climax of Don with two kids in tow) but then who said writing a good Hindi film script is an easy job.

The last area that we need to cover is the visual display of majboori. Majboori is an evolved concept and audience might sometime miss it among many other distractions like item numbers and product placements in the movie. So, you need to make the majboori visual. Like those movies in mid-80s where once the family fell into bad times because of some majboori (mostly some imaandari business), the children (Baby Guddu and/or Master Alankar/Ravi) would be seen begging at traffic signal. Then the following series of misfortunes would befall on them – constantly snubbed by people, one of them falling sick, no food at home, boy steals a loaf of bread for the sick sister, gets caught and beaten up, escapes and as he runs away from the crowd/police he grows up and then announces “us din majboori se bhagaa tha, aaj tak bhag raha hoon.” I have goosebumps just writing this. Imagine what impact would it have on audience!!

This is it – majboori in motion. Majboori in flesh and blood tugging at your sleeves. It is what great cinema is not all about but it always works.

I’m sure there are a millions such examples of majboori which you may know of. The work of great teacher isn’t to list them all out but to gently guide you towards the truth. I hope you have been enlightened enough while I am absolved of my majboori to churn out my weekly post. Phew! I tell you, majboori is indeed the mother of all inventions.