“Chaand” 90s Songs

My Lists,

The moon and Hindi film songs have shared a long and fascinating relationship. Whether it is chaand, chanda, chandrama or chandamama, the moon has played many roles in our songs. Chandamama door ke, Chanda re meri patiya le ja, Woh chaand khila, Aadha hai chandrama, Chaand aahe bharega, Dheere dheere chal chaand gagan mein – there are so many songs dedicated to the moon. It can be a companion, a silent witness, or someone to whom you can pour your heart out, share your state of mind, or even complain! It has inspired romantic, dreamy and sad songs, and how often have we heard the beloved compared to the moon?

There is something rather amusing about this comparison, though. The moon, with its craters and barren landscape, is hardly the picture of beauty we imagine it to be! Yet, in the world of Hindi film songs, it remains the epitome of beauty, romance and longing.

The reason for remembering this celestial icon is Kojagiri Purnima (which is being celebrated today). Also known as Sharad Purnima, The festival marks the end of the monsoon season and transition to a cooler climate. Another festival just around the corner and depicted in movies is Karwa Chauth, when women eagerly await the sighting of the moon to break their fasts, praying for the longevity, health, safety and prosperity of their husbands. The Eid kaa chaand is another favorite representation in our movies.

Festivals or otherwise, the moon has inspired us with some truly memorable Hindi film songs. Today’s post explores songs from the 1990s onwards that present the moon in its many forms—as a confidant, a symbol of romance, an object of longing, and much more.

Which moon songs come to your mind?

1) Song: Chaand Aur Piya
Film: Aashik Aawara (1993)
Credits: Anand Bakshi | Laxmikant-Pyarelal | Sadhana Sargam

Aashik Aawara starred Saif Ali Khan and Mamta Kulkarni in the lead roles. The situational song is set against the backdrop of Karwa Chauth, when the heroine observes a fast for the hero. It is primarily picturised on Mamta Kulkarni and her mother, played by Rita Bhaduri.

While the heroine is praying happily for the hero, the mother, in a sad mood, hopes to see her husband, despite knowing that he is having an affair and made it clear that he will not return home that night. For her, the occasion becomes a test of faith and trust of their marital relationship. While the song may not be particularly remarkable musically, it highlights the significance of the moon and the Karwa Chauth ritual in a married woman’s life, symbolising her hopes and faith in her husband’s well-being and their relationship.

2) Song: Chaand Se Parda Kijiye
Film: Aao Pyaar Karen (1994)
Credits: Shyam Raj | Aadesh Shrivastava | Kumar Sanu

Aao Pyaar Karen may have flopped at the box office, but its songs were popular at the time of release. This song is set during a birthday celebration, with Somy Ali playing the birthday girl. Saif Ali Khan, however, sings the song thinking of his love (Shilpa Shetty), even as Somy Ali mistakenly assumes that his words are meant for her.

The song is essentially a paean to the heroine’s beauty. The hero playfully asks her to keep her distance lest the moon catch sight of her and attempt to steal her beauty. The underlying thought is reminiscent of the classic Sasural (1961) song Teri pyari pyari surat ko kisi ki nazar na lage, which similarly celebrates the beloved’s beauty while expressing the wish to protect her from the evil eye.

3) Song: Chaand Ne Kuch Kaha
Film: Dil To Paagal Hai (1997)
Credits: Uttam Singh | Udit Narayan, Lata Mangeshkar and Chorus

Set at a Valentine’s Day party, the melodious song carries a message of love. The moon has urged the night to fall in love, and the same message, “Pyaar Kar,” is extended to human beings. Three characters express their individual perspectives on love, with Shah Rukh Khan, Madhuri Dixit and Karisma Kapoor singing the three stanzas. Karisma’s portion is particularly moving, as it captures the pain of unrequited love and the longing of a woman whose beloved remains unaware of her feelings.

4) Song: Gali Mein Aaj Chaand Nikla
Film: Zakhm (1998)
Credits: Anand Bakshi | M.M. Kreem | Alka Yagnik

Zakhm was a serious offering from Mahesh Bhatt. In the film, Pooja Bhatt and Nagarjuna are a married couple but in a complex relationship because they are from different faiths. Their relationship is not accepted by the hero’s family. Although he continues to support her, he visits her only occasionally, leaving her to raise their son largely on her own.

The song plays in the background when Nagarjuna finally visits the home of the woman who has been waiting for him. Poetically, his arrival is compared to the moon who has finally risen and its brilliance has illuminated the whole area.

5) Song: Mera Chaand Mujhe Aaya Hai Nazar
Film: Yeh Hai Mumbai Meri Jaan (1999)
Credits: Indeevar | Jatin-Lalit | Kumar Sanu

There is an interesting story behind the song. The film was originally conceived as Mr Aashiq in 1996, starring Saif Ali Khan and Twinkle Khanna. After the initial version was abandoned, Mahesh Bhatt reworked the project into Yeh Hai Mumbai Meri Jaan. According to records, some songs filmed for the earlier version were retained in the eventual release.

This is a soft romantic composition. The song expresses the hero’s excitement as he imagines being with the woman he loves. He compares her to the moon and asks the night to pass slowly, as he wants to savour the moment and prolong the romantic meeting. The lyrics also suggest that their romantic relationship has not yet reached its fulfilment: he longs for their love to blossom. There is a mix of excitement and anticipation.

6) Song: Chaand Chhupa Badal Mein
Film: Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam (1999)
Credits: Mehboob | Ismail Durbar | Udit Narayan, Alka Yagnik and Chorus

This is a multilayered song with the moon playing a key part. Aishwarya Rai celebrates Karwa Chauth at her in-laws’ home, although the circumstances make the celebration more of an obligation than a choice, given her forced union with her husband. As she participates in the rituals, she recalls the festival at her parents’ house. That was the time when she had shared a romantic interlude with the hero, played by Salman Khan, the man she truly loves.

The song thus captures both the festive traditions of Karwa Chauth and the underlying romance between the principal characters. And the moon is perceived differently – the hero wants to take advantage(!) of its absence; on the other hand, the woman are pleading the moon to appear soon, so they can celebrate its arrival.

7) Song: Chaand Aaya Hai
Film: Dil Hi Dil Mein (1999)
Credits: Mehboob | A.R. Rahman | Udit Narayan, Kavita Krishnamurthy

This is a kind of obscure remake film starring Kunal Singh and Sonali Bendre. The song is set during a Garba / Dandiya night, when the community gathers for traditional dancing during Navratri. The festive setting provides an opportunity for the lovers to express their attraction in a public celebration.

The moon is used as a metaphor for the heroine, describing how it has appeared on the earth in the form of a beautiful person. The actors communicate through their expressions and give a hint of romance. The lyrics also encourage them to seize the moment. A celebration like this offers a chance to speak, listen and reveal feelings that might otherwise remain unspoken.

8) Song: Yeh Chaand Koi Deewana Hai
Film: Chhupa Rustam (2001)
Credits: Anand Bakshi | Anand–Milind | Kumar Sanu, Alka Yagnik

Mamta Kulkarni and Sanjay Kapoor feature in this famous and catchy song centered around the moon. This song uses the moon as a metaphor for a hopelessly lovestruck admirer. The opening thought conveys that the moon itself is a long-time lover. The lyrics imagine the moon as a deewana, wandering about and staying awake all night in pursuit of someone.

9) Song: Chaand Sifarish
Film: Fanaa (2006)
Credits: Prasoon Joshi | Jatin-Lalit | Shaan and Kailash Kher

Aamir Khan expresses his feelings for Kajol in this superhit song. The moon is personified as a messenger who will put in a word for the hero and convey the intensity of his love, including his willingness to lose himself completely in it. An unusual thought, perhaps, but one that is presented as deeply romantic! The hero is quite bold to express his feelings in a flirting manner. The song is wonderfully melodious, and its distinctive whistling has become one of its most recognisable and memorable features.

10) Song: Chaand Ki Katori
Film: Guzaarish (2008)
Credits: Vibhu Puri | Sanjay Leela Bhansali | Harshdeep Kaur

And finally, an abstract and offbeat song. This song uses the moon as a metaphor, describing it as a little bowl in the night sky. Sung beautifully, it has a distinctive, almost whimsical quality, though the lyrics carry a deeper meaning. Beneath the playful imagery lies a reflection on life’s struggles, fragile relationships, unfulfilled dreams and the hardships faced by the less fortunate. The contrast between the charming imagery of the moon and the underlying sadness gives the song a unique character. Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s composition complements the unconventional lyrics, making this an interesting departure from the usual romantic songs that celebrate the moon.

Lamhe (1991)

My Reviews, ,

This week, on 21 October, we observe the death anniversary of Yash Chopra, one of the most influential filmmakers in the history of Hindi cinema.

Yash Chopra began his career as a director with Dhool Ka Phool (1959), produced by his elder brother, B. R. Chopra. He went on to direct films such as Waqt (1965), Aadmi Aur Insaan (1969) and Ittefaq (1969), establishing himself as a filmmaker with a distinctive style. In 1973, he produced Daag: A Poem of Love, the first film under his own banner, Yash Raj Films. The rest, as they say, is history!

He continued to work with some of the biggest stars in the industry, delivering films that went on to achieve iconic status. Although widely known as the King of Romance, Yash Chopra also explored other subjects through films such as Deewaar (1975), Trishul (1978), Kaala Patthar (1979) and Mashaal (1984). His final directorial venture, Jab Tak Hai Jaan, was released in 2012, shortly after his death.

I decided to write about one of his films, but selecting just one was obviously a challenge. Then I remembered that Yash Chopra had often spoken of Lamhe (1991) as one of his finest works and was particularly proud of the film’s legacy.

Lamhe dealt with a rather unconventional and sensitive subject: a man falls in love with a woman who eventually marries someone else. Years later, he finds himself falling in love with her daughter. The audience was perhaps not ready to accept this unusual premise, and the film failed at the box office despite its many merits. These included its stellar cast, memorable performances and, of course, its outstanding music. It can certainly be said that the film has aged like fine wine. With the passage of time, its appeal has only grown stronger, and what may have seemed unconventional when it was first released now feels more meaningful.

The Plot

The title song begins and the viewer is introduced to the desert landscape of Rajasthan. We are introduced to Viren, short for Virendra Kumar Singh (Anil Kapoor, without his trademark moustache). Around 18–19 years old, Viren is visiting his ancestral home in Marwar, Rajasthan, for the first time. His father had migrated to England before Viren was born.

Accompanying him is Durga Devi (Waheeda Rehman), whom he affectionately calls Dai Jaa. She has looked after Viren since childhood and continued to care for him after the death of his parents. Viren regards her as a mother figure and a constant source of support.

Having grown up abroad, Viren finds himself uncomfortable with the harsh desert climate and the inconveniences of life in Rajasthan. However, Dai Jaa gently helps him understand the significance of local customs, traditions, and ways of life, encouraging him to respect his ancestral roots. Viren, meanwhile, has little intention of settling down in Rajasthan. His plan is simply to attend to a few property-related matters and return to England at the earliest opportunity.

Viren arrives at his grand haveli, where he soon receives his first visitor, Kothiwale Thakur (Manohar Singh), a neighbour and a close family friend. Thakur shares a long-standing bond with Viren’s family and was the only person who stood by Viren’s father during his difficult times. Genuinely delighted by Viren’s arrival, he welcomes the young man with warmth and affection.

As Viren settles into his room, he hears a group of women singing nearby. Drawn by their voices, he steps out during a thunderstorm and discovers a young girl dancing with her friends in the rain. This leads to the vibrant rain song Megha re megha. Viren is instantly captivated by the young girl’s beauty and grace and finds himself wondering who she is.

The next day, Viren wanders through the desert, his thoughts returning to the mysterious girl he had seen dancing in the rain. He thinks he spots her and follows her as she makes her way into a local market. Later that night, at the neighboring Thakur’s kothi, Viren is pleasantly surprised to see the same girl arrive and mingle with the guests. She is introduced to him as Pallavi (Sridevi), Thakur’s daughter. Although deeply rooted in tradition, Pallavi is friendly, warm, and at ease in Viren’s company, interacting with him as though they have known each other for years.

Pallavi is older than Viren, but the age difference does not bother him. He is simply overjoyed to have found the girl who has captured his imagination and is delighted to discover that she is someone he can get to know better.

The next morning brings another musical interlude. Pallavi sings the devotional number Mohe chhedo na Nand ke lala. Once again, Viren is drawn to her, unable to take his eyes off her. There is an endearing innocence about him, as he finds himself increasingly captivated by Pallavi.

Pallavi asks Viren to be ready the following day, promising to show him around Rajasthan. He eagerly looks forward to spending time with her, although the excursion comes with a few conditions! He must dress like a local in traditional Rajasthani attire and travel by camel rather than enjoying the comforts of an air conditioned car. Somewhat awkwardly at first, Viren gradually adapts to these unfamiliar ways and ends up having a delightful day exploring the countryside in Pallavi’s company.

As the sun sets and dusk gives way to night, a woman (Ila Arun) sings a folk song. This leads into the ever popular Morni Baagaa Ma Bole. Against this picturesque backdrop, Viren becomes increasingly enchanted by Pallavi. Her beauty, her singing, and her graceful dancing draw him further into her world. What begins as fascination gradually takes on the hues of a deeper emotional attachment.

However, a dramatic turn of events is just around the corner. Pallavi’s father, Thakur, is embroiled in a property dispute with his step-relatives. He receives the devastating news that he has lost the case and, with it, virtually everything he owns. He will even have to vacate his beloved kothi. Pallavi, blissfully unaware of the crisis, has no idea that her world is about to change forever.

Unable to bear the shock, Thakur collapses and calls for help. Before passing away, he confides in Viren, entrusting Pallavi’s future to his care and declaring that she is now Viren’s responsibility. He then breathes his last.

At the prayer meeting, an emotionally charged scene unfolds. As Viren walks towards Pallavi, she suddenly rushes into the arms of another man, leaving him utterly stunned. The man is Siddharth Bhatnagar (Deepak Malhotra), an Air Force officer and the person Pallavi loves. Siddharth is an orphan, and Pallavi has kept their relationship a secret from her father.

A dejected Viren is at a loss about what to do. He has never confessed his feelings to Pallavi and now finds himself in a situation where he must put her happiness above his own. When he meets Siddharth, Viren assures him that he will make all the necessary arrangements for their wedding, which is scheduled for the following week.

Meanwhile, Pallavi’s greedy relatives are keen to take possession of the kothi. Viren confronts them and asks them to stay away until the wedding is over. This is a particularly impactful scene, showcasing Viren’s remarkable transformation. The young man who had arrived in Rajasthan, uncomfortable with its climate and customs, now deals confidently with the relatives, even paying them off to ensure that they do not interfere with the wedding. His firm and mature handling of the situation reveals a newfound sense of responsibility and authority.

Dai Jaa, in particular, is impressed by the way Viren rises to the occasion. He is no longer the carefree youngster she brought to Rajasthan; he has grown into a mature individual who understands the importance of standing by those who depend on him.

Pallavi and Siddharth are eventually married, and Viren, having fulfilled his promise to Thakur, leaves for England immediately afterwards, carrying his unspoken love with him. At this point, we are also introduced to Prem Anand (Anupam Kher), a close friend of Viren. He goes with Viren to England to help him overcome the turmoil that he is going through.

Pallavi and Siddharth begin their married life on a romantic note with the song Yaad Nahi Bhool Gaya. Just when everything seems to be falling into place, tragedy strikes. Siddharth dies in a motor accident. Pallavi survives the accident but passes away after giving birth to a daughter.

The double tragedy leaves Viren devastated. Having already sacrificed his own love for Pallavi’s happiness, he now finds it difficult to come to terms with her untimely death. Unable to cope with the emotional turmoil, he returns to London, leaving Dai Jaa to look after Pallavi’s infant daughter.

Dai Jaa names the little girl Pooja (Richa Pallod) and brings her up with the same love and affection with which she had cared for Viren. She sings her a lullaby, Gudiya Rani Bitiya Rani.

Viren visits India once a year to perform the shraddha ceremony in memory of Pallavi. Interestingly, the day also happens to be Pooja’s birthday. He brings her a gift but deliberately keeps his distance, leaving Dai Jaa to manage the situation. Pooja looks exactly like her mother Pallavi. Perhaps the sight of Pooja reminds him too painfully of Pallavi, the woman he loved but could never call his own. Pooja, meanwhile, longs for Viren’s affection and company. She knows him as Kunwarji and looks forward to his visits, unable to understand why someone who is so important to her remains so distant.

The long-awaited reunion finally takes place when Dai Jaa and Pooja come to England to stay with Viren. Pooja has always idolised Viren, but living under the same roof brings a new dimension to her feelings. At eighteen, she finds herself romantically attracted to him, while Viren (probably in his mid-forties) is living with the memories of Pallavi. The age difference doesn’t bother her. What Pooja experiences as love is, for Viren, still the affection he feels for the daughter of the woman he once loved.

Dai Jaa begins to suspect Pooja’s feelings for Viren after noticing a brief but telling moment. Concerned by what she observes, she later confides in Prem, who agrees with her.

Meanwhile, Pooja’s romantic fantasies find expression in the beautiful song Kabhi Main Kahoon, picturised against the picturesque landscapes of Switzerland. The song captures the dreamy, idealistic world of a young woman in love, even as the audience becomes increasingly aware of the complicated emotions at the heart of the story.

The one-sided romance between Pooja and Viren continues to unfold. We are also introduced to Anita (Dippy Sagoo), who is in love with Viren and hopes to marry him. However, Pooja’s growing influence over Viren and his own indecisiveness prevent Anita and Viren from taking their relationship forward. Their equation goes through repeated ups and downs, with the prospect of marriage appearing possible one moment and slipping away the next.

But what exactly is going on in Viren’s mind? Is he still unable to let go of Pallavi, the woman he loved but could never have? Can he separate the memories of Pallavi from the reality of Pooja, recognising that she is an individual in her own right, with feelings and desires of her own? And, ultimately, will he accept Pooja’s love?

These questions lie at the heart of Lamhe. However, the film takes its time getting to the answers, stretching the narrative before finally arriving at its much-anticipated climax.

The Music

Yash Chopra’s films are renowned for their memorable music, and Lamhe is no exception. The dependable composer duo Shiv-Hari reunites with lyricist Anand Bakshi after Chandni (1989) to deliver a bouquet of compositions that remain memorable even today.

The title song, Yeh Lamhe Yeh Pal Hum Barson Yaad Karenge, appears in patches throughout the film, particularly during the melancholic sequences featuring Viren. Sung by Hariharan, this soft, soulful number beautifully captures the lingering pain of unfulfilled love.

As expected, Lata Mangeshkar (LM) is the principal female voice of the soundtrack. She lends her voice to Pallavi, Pooja and Dai Jaa, bringing distinct shades of emotion to each character. However, one can sense a certain strain in her voice, while the compositions themselves are far from easy to sing.

Among the romantic duets, Yaad Nahin Bhool Gaya features LM alongside Suresh Wadkar, who provides playback for Deepak Malhotra. Another popular number is the dream sequence Kabhi Main Kahoon, sung by LM and Hariharan. Both compositions evoke the flavour of Raag Pahadi.

LM also joins Ila Arun for two contrasting duets. The first, Megha Re Megha, is a rain song with traces of Raag Malhar. The second, Morni Baagaa Ma Bole, is a chartbuster that blends Rajasthani folk lyrics with Hindi. Its use of Mishra Maand complements the film’s Rajasthani setting and lends the song an unmistakable regional flavour.

The devotional solo Mohe Chhedo Na Nand Ke Lala, based on Raag Bhairavi, offers a different mood altogether. This is followed by the short, tender lullaby Gudiya Rani, picturised on Waheeda Rehman. Another enchanting composition is Meri Bindiya Teri Nindiya, which draws on Mishra Khamaj. It is the final song in the film. Times have changed, and it is difficult to imagine Hindi cinema incorporating such songs and situations with the same ease today.

The soundtrack also features a medley of old Hindi film songs, sung by Pamela Chopra and Sudesh Bhosle. A fun-filled number, it does, however, feel a little too long, with several key characters joining in. Even Waheeda Rehman gets to dance to her evergreen Kaanton Se Kheench Ke Yeh Aanchal, adding a nostalgic touch to the sequence.

Yash Raj Films such as Chandni, Darr and Dil To Pagal Hai are also remembered for their evocative instrumental compositions. Lamhe has its own such moment in Moments of Passion / Rage, which accompanies the young Pooja as she vents her frustration after being slapped by Viren. The instrumental score adds another dimension to the film’s emotional landscape.

Finally, the songs deserve credit for their choreography by Saroj Khan, whose work helps bring out the mood and character of each composition. Together, the music, lyrics, singing and choreography make Lamhe a soundtrack worth revisiting.

My Thoughts

Lamhe is a thoughtfully conceived and beautifully made film. It is a visual delight, with its attractive cast and filming slocations adding to its appeal. The scenic beauty of Rajasthan in the first half of the film is beautifully captured by veteran cinematographer Manmohan Singh, whose visuals bring the region’s distinctive landscape and grandeur to life. The same applies for the UK scenes in the second half. Special credit must go to Honey Irani for the story and screenplay, and Dr. Rahi Masoom Raza for the dialogues. Their work earned them the Filmfare Awards for Best Story and Best Dialogue, respectively.

The film also won Filmfare Awards for Best Film (Yash Chopra), Best Actress (Sridevi) and Best Comedian (Anupam Kher). Much has been said and written about Sridevi’s performance in Lamhe, and deservedly so. She brings both Pallavi and Pooja to life with remarkable finesse, giving each character a distinct personality, mannerism, and emotional identity. It is a performance that showcases her extraordinary versatility as an actor. But I would also like to acknowledge Anil Kapoor’s satisfying portrayal of Viren. His transformation from a shy young man into someone who must confront complicated emotions is convincing. Even as he matures with age, he struggles to face the truth, and the actor captures this inner dilemma effectively.

Waheeda Rehman is excellent, bringing warmth and grace to her role. Anupam Kher, in his talkative and childish avatar can be irritating at times, but he impresses in the more serious scenes. His confrontation scenes with Anil Kapoor keep reminding you that he is such a good actor.

One drawback is perhaps the film’s length of more than 3 hours. The second half could have been tighter. It must have been disappointing for Yash Chopra that Lamhe did not perform particularly well at the Indian box office upon its release. But he had faith in his creation. Over time, it has acquired cult status. Its performances, memorable music and nostalgic moments continue to resonate with audiences, ensuring that the film remains a much-loved part of Yash Chopra’s legacy.

Rajwade and Sons (2015)

My Reviews,

Sachin Kundalkar is a well-known director in Marathi cinema, recognised for exploring a wide range of subjects. Human relationships, emotional yearning, and questions of identity are recurring themes in his films, and Rajwade and Sons (2015) is no exception.

As the title suggests, the film revolves around the Rajwade family, a well-established business family spanning three generations. It explores how these generations interact with one another, navigate conflicts, and respond to changing times and perspectives. Beneath the family drama lie some thought-provoking questions. Can financial security and material comfort truly guarantee happiness? What happens when the life we have grown accustomed to begins to feel restrictive? And, perhaps most importantly, do we have the courage to step out of our comfort zone and question the choices we have always taken for granted?

The Plot

The Rajwade family owns a prestigious jewellery business in Pune, and the name commands considerable respect across the city.

The film opens with the entire family moving out of their old bungalow in the heart of Pune. As part of a redevelopment project, the property is set to make way for a high-rise tower. In the meantime, the family relocates to another residence until the new building is ready.

At the helm of the Rajwade family is Rameshrao Rajwade (Satish Alekar), a staunch traditionalist who firmly believes in upholding age-old values and customs. He exercises tight control over the family business, with his two sons and son-in-law expected to follow his orders without question. In the Rajwade household, joining the family business is not a choice but an expectation passed down from one generation to the next. Pursuing an alternative career is simply out of the question. Even following one’s personal passions is discouraged, as anything that might affect the reputation and image of the family’s jewellery business is considered unacceptable.

Even when it comes to the redevelopment project, Rameshrao presents his design to the family members, who accept his decision without question. His authority within the family is such that his choices are rarely challenged.

His wife, Susheela (Jyoti Subhash), is the matriarch of this affluent household. A sensible and level-headed woman, she has spent years following her husband’s wishes, accepting his decisions as a way of life.

Rameshrao’s two sons are Vidyadhar (Sachin Khedekar) and Shubhankar (Atul Kulkarni). Vidyadhar’s wife is Sarita (Poornima Manohar) while Shubhankar’s wife has passed away and he has a school going daughter Tanmaya. Rameshrao’s daughter, Laxmi Joshi (Mrunal Kulkarni), is married to Vaibhav (Rahul Mehendale), who lives with the Rajwade family as their ghar jamai (a son-in-law who resides in his wife’s parental home). Vaibhav also works alongside his father-in-law in the family business.

Interestingly, the women in the family have little say in business matters. Although Laxmi is a director in the company, her involvement appears to be limited to signing documents as instructed by her father, without necessarily understanding the business decisions behind them.

Laxmi once dreamt of becoming an actor. During her college days, she had even performed in the acclaimed Marathi play Wada Chirebandi, which, incidentally, also revolves around a joint family. However, her aspirations were firmly dismissed by her father. As a Rajwade daughter, she was expected to uphold the family’s standing and remain rooted in Pune. The idea of leaving the city to pursue a career in the film industry was unacceptable to him. Instead, she was married off at a young age to a wealthy man.

It is evident that all three of Rameshrao’s children have grown accustomed to accepting their father’s decisions without question. The same expectations are likely to be imposed on the next generation. But will the younger members of the family submit to these conventions just as readily? Anay (Alok Rajwade), Virajas (Siddharth Menon), Shweta (Krutika Deo), and Ananya (Mrunmayee Godbole) represent the future of the Rajwade family. Through them, the film explores whether deeply entrenched family traditions can survive when confronted with a younger generation’s aspirations and desire for independence.

The younger generation of the Rajwade family has, in many ways, been born with a silver spoon in its mouth. Accustomed to a life of privilege, comfort, and financial security, they have enjoyed opportunities that many can only dream of. Yet, not everyone is willing to accept the future their parents and grandfather have mapped out for them.

The simmering discontent comes to the fore through an incident involving Ananya, Laxmi’s daughter. Ananya aspires to enter the modelling world by participating in the Miss Pune contest. She is also aware that Rajwade and Sons is looking for a model to showcase its jewellery collection. However, despite her interest, she is not even considered for the role.

When Ananya goes ahead with a photo shoot, the family convenes a meeting to address what they perceive as her unacceptable behaviour. The message is unambiguous: she cannot pursue her dreams because she belongs to the Rajwade family and must protect its reputation. Ananya challenges this reasoning, pointing out that their family’s reputation hardly extends beyond Pune.

Frustrated by the elders’ refusal to understand her aspirations, Ananya storms out of the meeting, with Anay following her. For the first time, the younger generation’s dissent becomes unmistakable. What was once simmering beneath the surface now begins to emerge as an open challenge to the family’s deeply entrenched values and expectations.

The elders often complain that the younger generation has received everything on a platter. But this raises an obvious question: whose fault is it? Aren’t the parents and grandfather equally responsible for bringing up their children in an environment where privilege comes with little freedom to make independent choices?

The younger members of the family carry on their carefree ways. They visit their old bungalow before it is demolished, having secretly arranged duplicate keys without informing the elders. During one such visit, they stumble upon a trunk and other belongings of Vikram Rajwade, Rameshrao’s son, who had left home many years ago after an “incident” that is never spoken about by the elders. Apparently, Vikram had also “stolen” some money when he left. His whereabouts remain unknown, and Rameshrao has made it clear that his estranged son will have no place in the redeveloped family residence or inheritance.

Then comes an unexpected turn of events. While the family is enjoying lunch, Vikram (Amit Riyaan) suddenly walks in. Having spent years away from home, he has built a life on his own terms, doing things that a Rajwade is traditionally not expected to do. He has worked independently, travelled abroad, settled down, and married. By all appearances, he has done well for himself without relying on the family or its business.

Vikram’s arrival affects every member of the household in some way, but it is the younger generation that is most deeply influenced. Here, at last, is someone from their own family who has dared to break away from its rigid conventions and chart his own course. His very existence challenges the belief that the Rajwades’ prescribed way of life is the only path to success and respectability.

Vikram is more than just an unexpected guest who gatecrashes the family’s comfortable existence. He is the rebel, the disruptor, and, above all, the catalyst who sets in motion a process of change within the Rajwade household.

Whether the younger generation will find the courage to take that leap is revealed as the film progresses. Along the way, there are some startling revelations about various family members which make things complicated as everyone struggles to come to terms with the reality and the way forward.

The Music

The film has only 2 songs (Tagmag and Mokale) which can be termed more as poetry set to tune. Tejas Modak is the poet and Debarpito Saha the composer.

My Thoughts

Sachin Kundalkar explores several themes in Rajwade and Sons. At one level, it is a family drama, but beneath the surface, it examines the patriarchal mindset prevalent in affluent business families, the position of women in family-run enterprises, and the struggle for independent thinking. The assumption that women are incapable of handling business affairs, or that younger family members must automatically follow in the footsteps of their elders, comes under scrutiny.

The bond between the siblings, both old and young, feels genuine. The older generation has largely accepted its circumstances and settled into the life laid out for them. The younger generation, on the other hand, appears carefree but carries an underlying sense of dissatisfaction. They have everything they could ask for in terms of material comfort, yet something seems to be missing. This contrast is one of the film’s more interesting aspects.

As far as the performances are concerned, most of the cast members leave a mark. However, Rameshrao’s character comes across as excessively rigid, almost incapable of understanding the changing aspirations and expectations of the younger generation. His assessment of Vikram, his intentions, and the approach e proposes lack the maturity and wisdom one would expect from an elderly family patriarch. Vikram’s character, too, feels somewhat vague at times, leaving certain aspects of his personality and motivations insufficiently explored.

The film’s resolution is another area that disappoints. The eventual outcome does not feel entirely convincing, and the narrative could have benefited from exploring the younger generation’s struggles in greater depth. What happens when they finally step outside the protective confines of the family business? Do they succeed in carving out independent identities, or do they discover that life beyond their privileged world is far more challenging than they imagined? Such an exploration would have lent greater weight to the film’s central questions.

Does the film serve as an eye-opener? The answer remains ambiguous. More importantly, does Rameshrao undergo any meaningful change of heart? This is a question the resolution could have addressed more convincingly.

One of the film’s strengths lies in the way the director plants seemingly small and incidental details from the very beginning and gradually connects many of them as the story unfolds. These subtle directorial touches add depth to the narrative and demonstrate his attention to detail. The film also benefits from its clean, glossy visual presentation, which complements the affluent world it portrays.

Ultimately, Rajwade and Sons raises relevant questions about privilege, family expectations, and the freedom to make one’s own choices. While its themes are compelling and its treatment often engaging, the film’s somewhat unconvincing resolution prevents it from reaching its full potential.