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Red is one of those colours that features frequently in Hindi film songs. Shammi Kapoor again, and in-again-a Nasir Husain film (the one, in fact, which shot Shammi to fame).
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Sar par topi laal haath mein resham ka rumaal ( Tumsa Nahin Dekha, 1957): Red. (It is all a farce, because both of them are trying to fool the other, but that’s a different story). There’s more than a hint of mutual attraction here, and she makes it amply clear that while she’s deriding this blue-eyed boy for having a black heart, she actually admires those blue eyes and those smiling lips. In Bade hain dil ke kaale, though, Asha Parekh’s character isn’t being completely honest when she refers to Shammi Kapoor’s character as being black-hearted. A black-hearted villain, a kaale dilwaala. And it can refer-both in English and in Hindustani-to someone wicked.
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It can also be mysterious, enticing: a promise of adventure that may not be completely free of danger. It can mean gloom, it can mean the deepest sorrow: it is the colour of mourning. Bade hain dil ke kaale ( Dil Deke Dekho, 1959): Black. Interestingly, there’s very little obvious pink to be seen in the picturization: one of the partygoers is wearing a pink dress, but Laxmi Chhaya and her fellow dancers wear something that may be pink but may equally be peach.ģ. Everything about this intoxicating night is intoxicating. Gulaabi raat ki har baat gulaabi, as Laxmi Chhaya’s dancer sings.
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A gulaabi raat is a night of intoxication, of lust and madness and of losing oneself so utterly in mindless, self-centred debauchery that nothing exists outside that space. Gulaabi aankhein are eyes that brim with the wine of love. Even of feminist movements that one would expect would have the guts to break free of this pink-loving stereotype that’s been forced on us women by a grossly commercial world.Īnd in Hindi cinema, pink is ( was? Before Pink?) the colour of intoxication. Pink is the colour of all things feminine: of cosmetics and lingerie, of less intimate clothing and of gemstones. Blue is for little boys, pink is for little girls. The connotations of colours can be so different in different cultures. Gulaabi raat ki har baat gulaabi ( Upkaar, 1967): Pink. The picturization of the song, too, reinforces that: the sky, and its blueness, are very prominent here.Ģ. Love blossoms, the Earth gives of its bounty, the seasons pass. And what is more all-encompassing, all-pervasively blue, than the sky, which hangs above us all? Every other line of Neele gagan ke tale emphasizes this: everything happens under the blue sky. This song, therefore, which makes much of the blue sky. Neele aasmaani boojho toh yeh naina was the first song that came to mind but that, while a lovely song, didn’t quite tick every box for me, for the simple fact that Madhubala ( like Sharmila Tagore in Kashmir ki Kali) didn’t have blue eyes-and, anyway, with Mr & Mrs 55 being in black and white, even if she had blue eyes, you wouldn’t have known it. I was torn when it came to a song about blue. Neele gagan ke tale ( Humraaz, 1967): Blue. As always, these songs are all from pre-70s films that I’ve seen, and are arranged in no specific order.ġ. And, to make it less of a sitter, no colour repeated, except when it refers to a very specific shade. Ten songs, therefore, that mention-in the very first line-a colour. Let’s talk sky and trees and eyes and whatnot. Let’s talk about blue and pink and green and yellow. Then, looking back at the number of non-Holi songs that are about colours, I thought, Let’s give it a twist. That was what I’d first thought I’d do to mark Holi on this blog: a post of Holi songs. And I don’t think I have ever seen Holi depicted in a film without there being an accompanying song. Not so with Hindi cinema, where Holi has been a big thing all along: the perfect situation for displays of affection, camaraderie, general love towards one and all. Come Holi, we’d happily feast on gujiyas and whatever other goodies came our way, but pichkaris, gulaal, and the rest? No, thank you. I was in good company though my father was obliged to go and play Holi with his colleagues, Mummy and my sister were as intent on staying clean as I was. I don’t celebrate Holi-ever since I was a little girl, I’ve had a horror of being wet and dirty, and come Holi, I used to insist on locking myself in.