Today’s Hindi film mothers are younger, trendier, more mischievous.
But, truth be told, says Dinesh Raheja, I still do miss sometimes the comforting presence of the trad mother.
IMAGE: Dharmendra and Shabana Azmi in Rocky Aur Rani Ki Prem Kahani.
There was a time when the Hindi screen mother was an adoring and adorable symbol of love, benevolence and sacrifice, but was robbed of any shade or semblance of romance.
If her husband dared make the slightest amorous move, she would elbow him sharply in the ribs with the famous admonition: ‘Chhodo. Bachhe dekh lenge!’
Contrast this with the recent Rocky Aur Rani Ki Prem Kahani in which the leading lady’s grandmother (played by Shabana Azmi) rekindles her extramarital passion for the leading man’s grandfather (played by Dharmendra) and shares a kiss with him too.
Also consider Badhaai Ho, whose plot pivots around the middle-aged pregnancy of the protagonist’s mother (played by Neena Gupta).
The Hindi screen mom has evidently witnessed a sea change in recent years.
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IMAGE: Nargis with Rajendra Kumar and Sunil Dutt in Mother India.
For years, she was cast in the doting Mother India mould, alternatively stoic and teary-eyed when faced with inevitable tragedy in the plotline.
But repeated iterations of this trope led to it tipping into melodrama and cliché.
The screen mother became well-known for spouting platitudinous dialogue that was instantly recognisable.
One of the most famous being: ‘Beta, haath munh dhokar aaja, maine apne haathon se gajar ka halwa banaya hai.’
The mother as the prime provider of nourishment is a strain that runs through our classics.
In Mehboob Khan’s Anmol Ghadi (1946), Leela Mishra works her fingers to the bone but feeds her romance-addled adult son (Surendra) with her own hands and says, ‘Khana kha le, beta. Soch kya raha hai?‘
IMAGE: Shashi Kapoor, Amitabh Bachchan and Nirupa Roy in Deewar.
In Guide (1966), Dev Anand is adult enough to have a live-in relationship with a married dancer but after a spat with his mother, Leela Chitnis, spouts the familiar: ‘Maa, bhookh lagi hai; khana do.’
Nirupa Roy became the screen embodiment of the mother figure thanks to roles like Deewar (1975) in which she scolds her policeman son, Shashi Kapoor, with ‘Chal, nahakar kapde badal le‘ and he counters: ‘Maa, khana jaldi milna chahiye.’
Another well-worn dialogue is to have the mother preening: ‘Mera beta phir first class first aaya hai!‘
Remember Lalita Pawar in Sangam (1964) exhorting son Rajendra Kumar: ‘Apne pita ko pranaam kar. Tum magistrate ho gaye ho‘ before turning to a portrait of a ceremoniously dressed man: ‘Dekhiye aaj aap ki murad puri ho gayee.’
Variations in other films would have the mother saying, ‘Aaj tere pita zinda hote toh kitna khush hote.’
The traditional screen mother was always a paragon of virtue, as in Waqt (1965). Son Shashi Kapoor extolls Achla Sachdev’s struggles with: ‘Tumne din-raat mehnat ki, kapde seeye. Lekin mujhe padhaya likhaya.’
IMAGE: Dharmendra and Sulochana in Aaye Din Bahar Ke.
Dharmendra in Aaye Din Bahar Ke (1966) is similarly grateful to his mother Sulochana and says the familiar ‘Main toh tumhari pooja karoonga‘. Which inevitably leads to Sulochana telling her blushing son, ‘Ek sundar si bahu le aa. Is aangan mein ek nanha munna khele.’
Screen mothers could say with total conviction: ‘Meri umar bhi tujhe lag jaaye‘, but were not above emotional blackmail too with the much-dreaded: ‘Kya issi din ke liye tujhe paal-posh ke bada kiya tha?‘
Historically, the mother was exalted to the skies in paeans like ‘Meri duniya hai maa tere anchal mein‘ and ‘Aye maa teri soorat se alag Bhagwan ki surat kya hogi.’
A more down-to-earth approach to the mother’s character began formulating with Raj Kapoor’s Bobby (1973) and Dev Anand’s Hare Rama Hare Krishna (1972).
Sonia Sahni and Achla Sachdev were high-society mothers who frequented clubs and neglected their children (Rishi Kapoor, Zeenat Aman) but were presented as victims of circumstances, not shaded dark.
IMAGE: Reema Lagoo and Salman Khan in Maine Pyar Kiya.
Today, the cliches uttered by old world mothers have all gone the way of the dodo. They would appear corny to the audience now.
Reema Lagoo’s roles in Sooraj Barjatya’s Maine Pyar Kiya (1989) and Mahesh Bhatt’s Aashiqui (1990) brought about changes which run deep.
This still-youthful mother related to her screen sons as a mother and, more pertinently, a friend.
As the vengeful matriarch in Ram Lakhan (1989) and Karan Arjun (1995), Raakhee tried to seek more agency even if it was through her sons.
The last vestiges of the trad mom was seen in Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham (2001) in which Jaya Bachchan has a prescient sense of her son Shah Rukh Khan’s presence.
IMAGE: Nasir Khan, Samir Soni, Sahil Chadha, Hema Malini and Amitabh Bachchan in Baghban.
In the new millennium, the mould has been conclusively broken, most glaringly in the visual department. Mothers are no longer dressed in widow whites or dowdy cottons but strive to look hip and happening.
When Hema Malini looked stunning in elegant saris while playing mother to four grown sons in Baghban (2003), people woke up to a new sartorial reality.
It has become a common sight to see Jaya Bachchan wearing western outfits as Preity Zinta’s mother in Kal Ho Naa Ho (2003), Neetu Singh outfitted in smart casuals as Varun Dhawan’s ‘mummy’ in Jugg Jugg Jiyo (2022) and Shefali Shah sport designer wear as Ranveer Singh’s ‘mamma’ in Dil Dhadakne Do (2015).
IMAGE: Deepika Padukone and Supriya Pathak in Goliyon Ki Raasleela Ram-Leela.
Screen mothers can also spring a surprise and turn out to be toxic nowadays.
In Luck By Chance (2009), Dimple Kapadia plays the leading lady’s ambitious mother and is described as a ‘crocodile in a chiffon sari.’
In Goliyon Ki Raasleela Ram-Leela (2013), a steely Supriya Pathak chops off her daughter Deepika Padukone’s digit to enforce a point!
Nor is the screen mother safe from being spoofed.
3 Idiots (2009) presented a tragicomic look at Sharman Joshi’s mother’s travails, and Kirron Kher gleefully spoofed the melodramatic excesses of film mothers in Om Shanti Om (2007) and Dostana (2008).
IMAGE: Shahid Kapoor and Tabu in Haider.
Contemporaneous screen moms can have their own romantic lives. Shahid Kapoor finally makes peace with his mother’s (Divya Seth’s) affair in Jab We Met (2007) but is unable to do the same in Haider (2014) when his mother (Tabu) remarries.
Amusingly, they can also come up with toe-curlingly embarrassing sex advice as Seema Bhargava’s cringe conversation with daughter Bhumi Pednekar in Shubh Mangal Saavdhan (2017) proves.
Trying her best, she explains: ‘Yeh rahasya ka khajana hota hai aur bandh gufa mein rahata hai. Aur yah gufa … suhagraat wale din khulti hai.’
The modern attire and approach of today’s film mothers is matched by new-fangled banter. Ayushmann Khurrana’s mother Dolly Ahluwalia in Vicky Donor (2012) throws attitude and drinks alcohol but the maternal instinct still rules.
After haranguing her son till he leaves, she shouts out: ‘Chai to peeta jaa‘ only to have him retort: ‘Phenyl pila do.’
IMAGE: Vidya Balan plays mom to Sanya Malhotra in Shakuntala.
Modern moms can be ruthless avenging angels — witness Sridevi in Mom, Raveena in Maatr and Aishwarya in Jazbaa.
Yet, they are not defined solely by being a mother. Vidya Balan plays mother to youthful progeny in Shakuntala and Mission Mangal but the films focus on her career.
Today’s Hindi film mothers are younger, trendier, more mischievous. They’re less venerated and have more rounded personalities as multi-dimensional humans.
But, truth be told, I still do miss sometimes the comforting presence of the trad mother.
Maybe because the mother figure was central to many a film story then while today she is often peripheral.
