
I watched a parallel cinema film from 1993 last night directed by Kalpana Lazmi called Rudaali. Like parallel cinema is supposed to do, it dealt with a serious topic: professional mourners, known as Rudaali in Hindi. I was happy to hear great music by both Lata and Asha throughout the movie, a feature not always present in the parallel cinema. I had a whole stack of Hindi movies from the library waiting for me to watch them, and I was in the mood for some personal, professional mourning, as the night before a ferocious hail storm ruined my garden. I knew I loved my hosta plants, but this destructive storm only confirmed this attachment. What in the past I would have described as golf ball sized hail, and now refer to as ladoo sized hail, fell from the sky at high speeds and in minutes ruined my garden. These aren’t my hosta pictured here, I found the image online, (if you click on the picture you’ll see they belong to a math professor from the University of MN) but I believe mine would have looked like these if the storm taken a different path:
Ahh, the power of Shiva! I wanted to weep at the loss, and briefly hired myself as a professional mourner. Afterwards, I had to accept it, tip my hat to mother nature’s shakti, and seek peace through a movie. I was in the mood to mourn and had the perfect movie in front of me so things were already looking up! Here’s a bit about the movie:
Rudaali is a 1993 Hindi film directed by Kalpana Lajmi, based on the short story written by Mahasweta Devi. The title is a reference to a custom in certain areas of Rajasthan where women are hired as professional mourners after the death of a male relative. These women are referred to as a ‘rudaali’ (roo-dah-lee),literally translated as female weeper. Their purpose is to publicly express grief of family members that are not permitted to display emotion due to social status. The film is set in a small village in Rajasthan, India. It tells the story of a woman named Shanichari, who was abandoned by her mother shortly after her father’s death. Bad fortune follows as she marries an alcoholic, who leaves her with little hope of a brighter future for herself and her son. Throughout Shanichari’s lifetime of
misfortune she has never cried. This creates great difficulty once she is called to become a rudaali until Bhinkni, an experienced mourner, enters her life. But Shanichari is simply led to more misery that will surely bring her to tears. Dimple Kapadia won a National Film Award for her role of Shanichari in the film. The film also features Raakhee, Raj Babbar and Amjad Khan in one of his last films. Amjad Khan had died before the film’s release and the film is dedicated to him at the beginning of the film’s credits. (wikipedia)
Read more on the film at Philip’sfil-ums, rAjOo, and alternate movies.
Here’s my progression of Amjad Khan viewing: Sholay (1975), Muqaddar Ka Sikander (1978), Qurbani (1980), Lawaaris (1981) and last night I saw Rudaali (1993). In the beginning Rudaali you see this:

I then realized Amjad must have died around the time of the movie’s release. I was thinking that maybe he wasn’t in the movie, but rather that the movie simply was dedicated to him. So when someone who looked like a MUCH BIGGER Amjad Khan appeared…

I couldn’t believe it was him. I remember seeing Khan in Lawaaris and thinking how chunky he’d become and how fitting since that character started out in the film as a pig of a man. Khan’s character appears in Rudaali several times and he’s on his death bed, trying unsuccessfully to die. Ironic that it was one of his last roles to play a dying man.

Finally I figured out that this was indeed Amjad Khan:

After I got over my shock about Amjad’s apperance, I was free to enjoy the film.
For today’s video, listen to “Dil Hoom Hoom Gare” (My heart beats with fear) which is about Dimple’s character’s sad life, but reminds me of the hail storm I’d just survived. I am dedicating to this song to my plants harmed by the storm. It’s sung by Lata Mangeshkar, picturized on Dimple Kapadia, with lyrics by Gulzar, and music by Bhupen Hazarika:
Thanks to bhumikafan for the video.
Dil hoom hoom kare, ghabraaye
My heart is gasping, it shivers in fear
Ghan dham dham kare, darr jaaye
The clouds are thundering, my heart becomes afraid
Ek boond kabhi paani ki mori ankhiyon se barsaaye
A drop of water sometimes flows from my eyes
Dil hoom hoom kare, ghabraaye
My heart is gasping, it shivers in fear
More Lyrics HERE.
Thanks to Dimple, for her excellent acting, for crying over my injured hosta, for being the Rudaali of my hail storm.




I saw this pretty long ago, at a particularily young and impressionable age- I was charmed by Dimple, loved Raj Babbar (though I’ve hated him in most of his movies), and cried buckets throughout the movie. Even Rakhi’s cameo in the end was pretty cool (though I dont like her either)- and I just felt v sad for Amjad- poor man.
Its been a very long time, but I think if I saw this again today, I’d probably have the exact same reactions.
But the real star here is so definitely the music- it is amazing that Hazarika sang and composed songs rooted in Assam for a movie rooted in Rajsthan, and still made it work!
Thank you for bringing this back Suzanne- so good.
Hey Shweta, glad you enjoyed remembering this film. I thought Dimple was excellent in this. I also enjoyed Rakhi’s performance. I think this is a movie that I’d get much more from with an additional viewing. I was also very happy over the music, especially because I wasn’t expecting it at all. The “parallel cinema” that I’ve seen the music isn’t as significant a part (if a part at all) compared to other Hindi movies. And yes, poor Amjad.
He looked very uncomfortable.
Ooh I need to see this. Dimple looks absolutely stunning (as usual)…and I can’t believe how enormous Amjad Khan was!
No wonder he died soon after…
My sympathies to your garden, may it grow back stronger than before.
Yes memsaab, Dimple was great in the part and looked fantastic too. She has that pansexual appeal to the masses. She’s what my mother would call “a handsome woman.” You know I felt better about Amjad once I realized that the pillow was propping him up making him look even larger than he was, plus he’s wearing white and has a white sheet around him, so that makes it worse.
Of course that movie helped a lot too.
Thanks for your garden sympathies, every day it gets easier to move on and wait for the new to grow, just like life and Bollywood teaches us.