‘Dilwale Dulhania La Jayenge’ is one of the most celebrated Bollywood films. Even after twenty-nine years, it still plays at the Maratha Mandir Theatre in Mumbai. The film tells the story of two young NRI’s, non-resident Indians, Simran and Raj. Both embark on a trip around Europe after finishing sixth form and their meeting changes their lives forever.
Many critics have noted that a Bollywood exists before DDLJ, and after DDLJ. The film is credited with fundamentally changing the nature of Bollywood itself. It boasts all the classic Bollywood features, such as a lengthy runtime and catchy songs, but also adds a lot more to reflect cultural shifts that were happening within the 90s.
The fact that the film is about non-resident Indians has been regarded as a massive selling point, and a string of films following after have targeted that market. Originally, director Aditya Chopra wanted a Caucasian American lead and considered casting Tom Cruise as one half of the star-crossed lovers. The non-resident Indian aspect does immediately make the characters of Simran and Raj more relatable to younger audiences.
Both Simran and Raj manage to balance Britishness with their Indian values, and although this is what encourages their union, it is also what drives it apart. It creates a personal conflict for them both, and throughout the film we see them lean into their British side, and into heir Indian side. Depending on who they interact with, one side is more prevalent than the other.
Let’s start with Kajol’s Simran. More so than Raj, due to her strict father Baldev Singh, Simran must straddle the line between British and India. When with her friends, she wears English clothes, at home, Indian. In a humorous scene in the film, Simran, her mother Lajjo and sister Chutki are seen dancing to western music. However, when Baldev comes home, the prayers are on and the prayer books come out. Baldev is also most affectionate towards his daughter when she is being religious. It is whilst praying in the morning that Simran successfully gets her father’s permission to go interrailing, with the assurance that she will comply with her arranged marriage upon her return. The film appears to hit the zeitgeist of a massive cultural shift, as by the 90s, more Indians had moved out of India to places like the UK.
While Shah Rukh Khan’s Raj feels more western than Indian, his heritage is not fully disregarded. In a controversial scene where Simran worries that while drunk, she slept with Raj, Raj informs her that he knows the value of an Indian woman’s honour, and that it is something that he would not dare disrespect. When the film moves to India also, in front of Simran’s family he is well mannered and respectful. He acts differently in front of his friends, as does Simran, as does everyone. Balancing the east and west is something that NRI’s still do now, although recently I feel that there has been a bit of a rediscovery of Indian culture amongst the youth, and a reclaiming of it.
It is unfortunate though, that Indian culture in the film is what disrupts the union between Simran and Raj. This is personified by Amrish Puri’s Baldev Singh. From the opening scene we learn that although he resides in London, his heart and soul is in Panjab. He has a very idealistic view of what Panjab is, and although he seeks to uphold culture and tradition, he does so nearly at the cost of Simran’s happiness. His idealistic view is showcased with the opening song, as women dance and sing throughout the fields. It is idyllic, and ironic, as while preparing for her arranged marriage, it is in Panjab where Simran is the most unhappy. His strong patriotism does highlight some hypocrisies. When Raj and his friends steal from his shop, he notes that they are devoid of Indian values. However, the Panjabi Kuljeet Singh at the end of the film, along with his friends, savagely beat Raj. Surely violence is not part of Indian values? When watching DDLJ Baldev does come across as the villain of the piece, but I do sympathise with the fact that what Simran is asking for him is different to everything he knows, and everything that he loves – his culture.
In contrast is Simran’s mother Lajjo. Although the film is set in the 1990s, in the patriarchal Panjab, Lajjo’s feminist edge does tap into the changing mindset of non-resident Indians. Lajjo recognises that women have had to sacrifice their happiness for the sake of men, and realises that unless she intervenes, her daughter will have to do the same. This is why she encourages Simran and Raj to run away and fulfil their desires, because in her youth, she was unable to fill her own.
Although the men in her life do control her fate, Simran is not fully passive unlike her mother was in the past. She wins her trip to Europe, she is more than capable of holding her own when it comes to Raj and she manipulates the Karwa Chauth ceremony to ensure that Raj is the one to break her fast. Her resilience eventually pays off. As well as this, even before Simran’s triumph at the end, little moments along the way imply that their relationship will be more egalitarian than most. She argues with him, she wins, he apologises, he changes. And she does the same, both stating on different occasions that they got carried away.
One thing that sets the film apart is the fact that the lovers do not elope, which was noted by several critics. Raj does want to be honest, and maintains that he will not steal Simran, he will be given her hand by her father. Simran does not believe that this will come to pass, citing her father’s traditional values. Forbidden unions always come at some cost in Bollywood, in ‘Veer Zara’ Veer spends his days in prison, Rahul and Anjali are banished in ‘Kabhi Kushi Kabhe Gham’ and in ‘Tohfa’ Sridevi’s Lalita gives up her love Ram for her sister Janki, marrying an alcoholic no-gooder instead.
Gaining the approval of your parents is a massive theme in Bollywood, and something keenly felt in a lot of Indian households. ‘Kabhi Kushi Kabhe Gham’ comments on this trope, Anjali, also played by Kajol is particularly distressed at not gaining her new father in law’s blessing. Considering this, Simran and Raj do emerge relatively unscathed, they are not banished, they are both alive, and they obtain the blessings that they are so desperate for at the end of the film.
In the end, everyone in the film is satisfied. All the somewhat competing forces, east and west, children and parents, modernity and tradition settle and culminate in a happy ending. Everybody wins, and everyone is validated. And even though Simran and Raj deviate from the traditional family structure established by Baldev’s superiority, the Indian family system remains intact, as Baldev’s approval is earned. The film proves that these perceived Indian family values can be carried out of India to other countries, and that NRI’s can be as equally Indian and valid citizens as those that have stayed in India itself. Simran and Raj’s romance does not play second fiddle to family values, as Lajjo’s did previously, their love is validated and elevated further by these family values.
Baldev’s change of heart characterised in the iconic line ‘Ja Simran ja… jee lee apni zindagi’ really is massive. In telling Simran to ‘go, live your life’ represents a huge shift, a shift that was happening for all NRI’s in the 90s. In that singular line, Baldev lets go of the tradition and culture that he wants to uphold and allows her daughter to marry a man that he vehemently did not approve of. Baldev, in the closing moments of the film, realises that nobody would ever love Simran as much as Raj does, and that this is enough for him. It’s such a seismic shift that I wouldn’t mind if the film had an extra 20 minutes to explain his thought process a bit more. The union of Raj and Simran resonates because it is not just a win for love itself, but a win for the younger generation, in or out of India who wish to follow their own heart and create their own path. It also shows a parent who is willing, albeit after a long time, to let go of something dear to him for the happiness of his beloved daughter. It is quite moving, and it is not hard to imagine why the closing moments of the film still elicit tears.
Thanks for reading!
Khambay's Words, Words, Words 