The year 1979 came with many profound lessons. With films like “Suhaag”, “Manzil”, “Jurmana”, “Mr Natwarlal” and “Kala Pathhar” being released, there was little chance you could avoid Bachchan. Like him or loathe him, you had to watch him. It was also the year Sridevi made her debut with the utterly forgettable “Solva Sawan”. Not one to be disheartened, Sridevi repackaged herself soon after. Gone was the baby fat and a button for a nose. In came a voluptuous woman a few years later in “Himmatwala” and the title of the empress was hers for many years to come.
Around the time Sridevi was struggling with “Solva Sawan”, nice things were written about Raj Kiran. Among the newer heroes he had good looks, reasonable acting potential and a hint of charisma. Great things were expected of him. Unlike Sridevi, Raj Kiran’s career graph, however, did not reach the heights many thought he deserved. A motley mix of second hero roles in big banner films and a few failed attempts at solo leads and Raj Kiran quickly faded away from public memory. For me, it seemed a personal loss. I had seen little of him and liked what I saw. Besides his sporting act in Mahesh Bhatt’s “Arth”, I had watched “Hip Hip Hurray”, a rare sports film. And liked it as much for its subject as the hero. Ah, yes, there was Deepti Naval too. And then, somewhere in the inner recesses of my memory was a film called “Shikshaa”. Most had forgotten about the film, released as it did during the high noon of Bachchan daze. At a time when most Bachchan starrers released at around a dozen halls in the NCR, “Shikshaa” had to make do with less than half of that. It came in quietly, like most Rajshri’s films. It did steady business; again like most other films from the production house. However, I do remember, even if faintly, that the film initially did not do so well at the box office but picked up later, going to have a steady run in the morning show slot.
Bappi Lahiri’s song “Yaari hai phoolon se meri yaari hai” moved up the popularity charts. As did Yesudas’s “Teri chhoti si ek bhool ne sara gulshan jala diya”, the legend doing his best to get the diction right for Gauhar Kanpuri’s words. Interestingly, Yesudas too was then said to be headed for great things in Hindi cinema. For Raj Kiran though, “Shikshaa” was like a drawn Test match. It was a match, indeed, a series he could have, and should have, won. More is the pity.
Director S. Ramanathan was entirely reasonable in expecting Raj Kiran to be the life and blood of “Shikshaa”. The soul, of course, came from the house of the Rajshri’s, the banner that believed in making films soaked in colours of a traditional Hindu society, a world where most men are like Ram, most women like Sita, and evil is just an aberration. This film too had its share of message: how not to raise your son! The story? The good old tale of a spoilt brat! Here Raj Kiran plays Vijay, a man for whom cars are like toys and money is like water. He values neither. His father objects but his mother panders to his whims leading to predictable problems a little later. Throw in an accident, add the death of a person due to his rash driving – rings a bell for the followers of Salman Khan? The hero comes home, the cops follow to arrest him but the driver takes the blame. Hey, rings another bell for the millions of fans of Salman? How close reel and real veer!
Here the drive is imprisoned, the hero goes on with merry, no, reckless ways. But then remember, it is a Hindi film where the man has to realise his mistake. All this, however, come after life imparts its own ‘shikshaa’ to the hero and his mom: Money does not buy you a happy life. Short on surprise element, “Shikshaa” still ticked a few boxes with the segment of audiences who, as late as the late 70s, sought a mirror reflection of their value system in their films. Little wonder, many school arranged for special shows for their students at that time.
The film had its moments. Yet it did not go on to be a runaway hit many hoped for. Much like the real life story of its hero. There in lies the message, the ‘shikshaa’.
