Born on Valentine's Day with a hole in her heart -Madhubala
How do you begin to tell the story of a woman you did not know at all when she was alive..? So what does one say about her when she is dead. People love a story. I have none. People cook up stories. I won’t. The bare minimum that she deserves, like any dead soul, is respect - and humility that precedes that respect and trails it. How does one describe the haunting silence within her that perhaps never sighed ; that somber breath of longing and ecstasy that was never taken ; that melancholy of tears churned deep down that never ever fell … It is all about a woman. Her heart. A heart so heavy, yet so hollow, that never really throbbed..
Well, in fact Madhubala was born on St. Valentines Day, ironically, with a hole in her heart. A heart that in spite of its condition, evoked and spread endless love among people known and unknown, and that is as much as a heart can do. She died because of this nagging disease at the young age of 36. But not before she brought more light and more fragrance to the world of glamour – like a scented candle lit from both its ends – and like this candle, ended up perishing soon. But as long as she was alive, love was the muse of life that juxtaposed divinity, and in the process, consumed life itself. She was at the peak of her career and popularity with the release of ‘Mughal-e-Azam’ and ‘Barsaat Ki Raat’, when she was devoured by the very heart that she swore by.
Almost half a century after her death, till today, one has to say the name – Madhubala, and the invariable response is that of a collective sigh. The name is synonymous with beauty. Once mentioned, images in the mind start to billow out a spell of feelings almost magical – a fresh pink rose with dew drops and with blobs of honey. Can beauty of such indescribable magnitude suddenly lie so still yet wrap up the beguiled filaments of love, loss, and then look at the beauty of moments left behind. Sweet images of moments gone by but captured and held by the camera, on screen forever. Moments, ingrained in the mosaic of memory forever. Images and memories superimpose each on one, and turn into an experience to be lived and relived.
Time and tide aren’t ever held hostage to the dungeons of logic or reason. The moments gone by, are but, gone by – relegated, even obscure, but still effective - Somewhere. Somehow.
And then a song suddenly seeps through the soul, ripping off emotions of that bygone era, like a sprouting foliage in all its glory, sent purposefully as if to re-live those moments and bask in them.
So I end exactly where I began – How does one end the story of a woman one did not know at all when she was alive..? What does one say about her when she is dead.. People love a story. I have none. People cook up stories. I won’t. The bare minimum that she deserves, like any dead soul, is respect, and the humility that precedes that respect and trails it … I will just dedicate a song - A song which not just lit up the screen of Hindi cinema with colour back then, but one that still fires the imagination of a nation that loves to love Hindi cinema, and its actors to the point of worship
Happy birthday Madhubala .......Happy Valentines Day
Romi Mittal Sammy Gill Sukh Arora Camaal Mustafa Sikander Praneet GrewalAnooradha Minnie Patel Anju Mahendroo Parveen Sethi Reshma Singh Deepika Chand Namita Khare Lalit Sharma Winky Kaur Harpreet Dhindsa-Sahota Chanda Gupta Harcharan Bains Sanjay Arora Bobby Sing Rohina Mehra Doc Nirmal DhalluKulwant Grewal Balwant Singh Sanjeev Ahluwalia Jagwant Singh Brar Nayaz GillPreety Goraya Preet Gill Supreet Dhiman Sonia Chamkaur Puneet Kapoor Abhishek Sharma Brahmanand Singh Rani Bains Harina Sohi
How do you begin to tell the story of a woman you did not know at all when she was alive..? So what does one say about her when she is dead. People love a story. I have none. People cook up stories. I won’t. The bare minimum that she deserves, like any dead soul, is respect - and humility that precedes that respect and trails it. How does one describe the haunting silence within her that perhaps never sighed ; that somber breath of longing and ecstasy that was never taken ; that melancholy of tears churned deep down that never ever fell … It is all about a woman. Her heart. A heart so heavy, yet so hollow, that never really throbbed..
Well, in fact Madhubala was born on St. Valentines Day, ironically, with a hole in her heart. A heart that in spite of its condition, evoked and spread endless love among people known and unknown, and that is as much as a heart can do. She died because of this nagging disease at the young age of 36. But not before she brought more light and more fragrance to the world of glamour – like a scented candle lit from both its ends – and like this candle, ended up perishing soon. But as long as she was alive, love was the muse of life that juxtaposed divinity, and in the process, consumed life itself. She was at the peak of her career and popularity with the release of ‘Mughal-e-Azam’ and ‘Barsaat Ki Raat’, when she was devoured by the very heart that she swore by.
Almost half a century after her death, till today, one has to say the name – Madhubala, and the invariable response is that of a collective sigh. The name is synonymous with beauty. Once mentioned, images in the mind start to billow out a spell of feelings almost magical – a fresh pink rose with dew drops and with blobs of honey. Can beauty of such indescribable magnitude suddenly lie so still yet wrap up the beguiled filaments of love, loss, and then look at the beauty of moments left behind. Sweet images of moments gone by but captured and held by the camera, on screen forever. Moments, ingrained in the mosaic of memory forever. Images and memories superimpose each on one, and turn into an experience to be lived and relived.
Time and tide aren’t ever held hostage to the dungeons of logic or reason. The moments gone by, are but, gone by – relegated, even obscure, but still effective - Somewhere. Somehow.
And then a song suddenly seeps through the soul, ripping off emotions of that bygone era, like a sprouting foliage in all its glory, sent purposefully as if to re-live those moments and bask in them.
So I end exactly where I began – How does one end the story of a woman one did not know at all when she was alive..? What does one say about her when she is dead.. People love a story. I have none. People cook up stories. I won’t. The bare minimum that she deserves, like any dead soul, is respect, and the humility that precedes that respect and trails it … I will just dedicate a song - A song which not just lit up the screen of Hindi cinema with colour back then, but one that still fires the imagination of a nation that loves to love Hindi cinema, and its actors to the point of worship
Happy birthday Madhubala .......Happy Valentines Day
Romi Mittal Sammy Gill Sukh Arora Camaal Mustafa Sikander Praneet GrewalAnooradha Minnie Patel Anju Mahendroo Parveen Sethi Reshma Singh Deepika Chand Namita Khare Lalit Sharma Winky Kaur Harpreet Dhindsa-Sahota Chanda Gupta Harcharan Bains Sanjay Arora Bobby Sing Rohina Mehra Doc Nirmal DhalluKulwant Grewal Balwant Singh Sanjeev Ahluwalia Jagwant Singh Brar Nayaz GillPreety Goraya Preet Gill Supreet Dhiman Sonia Chamkaur Puneet Kapoor Abhishek Sharma Brahmanand Singh Rani Bains Harina Sohi
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