Desolate lies the cinema hall; its threshold almost unrecognisable from a distance. An iron cot with coir fibre bedding and a water bucket that once stored wall paint occupy space at the gate. A man sitting on his haunches rubs khaini on his palm, another sitting on the cot is just through with his hookah. Outside, there is no signage of Khanna cinema. In a sea of shops all around in Paharganj near New Delhi Railway Station, it is difficult to locate the age-old cinema that opened its doors even before the silent film era ended.
Today its rain-lashed exteriors are discoloured. Inside, it is all dank and dim, the staircase reminding you of those medieval step-wells in other parts of the city. Its crevices are home to many a web, its creaking doors seldom open, and the ceiling is home to a bat or two. Gone is the carpet on the aisles, the headrest behind seats. Movies play no more. Life is a sad song.
It has been like that for more than half a decade now. Noises about the cinema's revival have been as sporadic and enfeebled as the competition has been consistent and stiff — halls in the vicinity like Plaza, Odeon, Delite have all reinvented themselves. Khanna though seems caught in some time warp. Yet, it was not always like that. It is probably the oldest cinema in the area; predating Imperial that came up around 1930. Like others, it too started as a theatre but as cinema gained popularity post the first talkie Alam Ara , Khanna put a full stop to its theatre days and concentrated on providing cinematic entertainment. Interestingly, it had even played some silent movies before and around the time of the release of Alam Ara , giving it the unique distinction of having shown both silent films as well as talkies! Back in mid-1940s, old-timers recall the arrival of Prithviraj Kapoor at the hall for the premiere of Prithiviraj Samyogita . More than two decades after this film, Prithviraj's Nanak Naam Jahaz Hai rewrote box office records. And Khanna was happy to soak it in. Incidentally, Nanak Naam Jahaz Hai proved a precursor of things for the hall. A few years later Khanna played host to Shiv Mahima , a film that went on to do golden jubilee in morning shows. For the mythological, busloads of school students arrived from different parts of the city to catch up with the film.
Limited run
This film though proved an exception as Khanna usually concentrated on playing blockbusters which usually ran for four to six weeks. While halls like Novelty, Ritz, Regal and Moti often completed silver jubilees of films — 25 weeks — Khanna changed films ever so often. Only occasionally did a film stay on to complete a hundred day run. A 100-day run usually entailed celebrations for the distributors, exhibitors and cinema management till the mid 1980s. Interestingly, Mehboob Khan's Son of India which had aroused great expectations after his Mother India set new benchmarks in the Hindi film world, opened at Khanna on December 21, 1962. Unfortunately, the film bombed everywhere. Yet it got a good opening here, attracting better footfall than at Regal in Connaught Place. Scarcely a surprise then that not just Mehboob or the Kapoors, Khanna proved a happy destination for the banners like AVM and Gemini with their films enjoying a fine run at the centrally located hall that had its own distinct patrons. The Old Dilliwallahs went to the halls in the Walled City, the high brow went to Connaught Place or South Delhi, Khanna and Imperial attracted middle class viewers, a lot of family crowd. Of course, there were curious tourists too who strayed into the hall from the budget hotels in the vicinity.
Talking of tourists, there are a couple of anecdotes related to films at the hall. A few years after the hall had been renovated, two women pickpockets used to come here in the evening shows in the late 1970s and 80s. Inspired by the super hit flick Seeta aur Geeta , the two often tried their luck near the booking counter. On a couple of occasions, they were caught by alert cine-goers. A few days away from the scene, the girls would be back at the ‘job' soon enough. There was a man with special abilities. His polio stricken legs prevented him from standing. He would sit on a cart barely four inches above the crowd, pushing it himself with one hand. Yet he would be around Khanna every matinee show and wait for some usher to quietly allow him inside. He often went in without a ticket, the argument being, he occupied no seat! That was another age.
By mid-1980s, Khanna was reduced to playing re-runs and fade-outs. In another few years Mithun Chakraborty and Dharmendra's films catering to lowest common denominator enjoyed a run here. With titles like Policewala Goonda , Bhai Thakur , Jagira , Khul-e-Aam and Qatl-e-Aam , you do not need a second guess about the content. The films catered to immigrant working class. And raked it rich at the box office. One recalls Dharmendra's Jagira , a film replete with thakurs, bad men, vulnerable girls and the like. As the hero entered on a horse, the masses whistled, as the girl was thrown to the ground by the henchmen of the villain, they clapped. All in anticipation of the heroine dancing in front of the villain, a la Hema Malini in Sholay , and the hero coming to rescue her! All stereotyped, predictable fare. All that appealed to cine-goers who asked no uneasy questions and found in familiarity their joy.
Today, forsaken and forgotten Khanna has no easy answers. The proprietors plan to revive it. The question is: Will Delhi make space for a hall that can hold its own in front of multiplexes?
