'Abhimaan': A movie that is still relevant and relatable
Eastern Eye celebrates 50 years of Abhimaan, by presenting reasons why it is a fantastic film
By Asjad Nazir and Dharmesh PatelJul 20, 2023
WHETHER it is multiple Hollywood remakes, including one headlined by Lady Gaga, Bollywood musicals like Aashiqui 2 and many others globally, a lot of movies have been inspired by 1937 classic A Star Is Born.
One of the finest is Hindi film classic Abhimaan, which was released on July 27 1973 and celebrates its 50th anniversary this week. The great story of a star mentoring a protégé and it leading to problems remains a great moment in Hindi cinema history.
Eastern Eye decided to mark 50 years of Abhimaan, by presenting reasons why it is a fantastic film.
Empowerment: Despite the presence of a strong male character, the story celebrated the woman, and taught audiences to respect women and encourage them to grow. David’s character at the end even addresses the audience as beheno aur bhaiyo, instead of the usual bhaiyo aur beheno. Other women-centric films, namely Mother India, Kahaani, Khoon Bhari Maang, and Pakeezah, etc., largely relied on the absence of heroes. This wasn’t the case with Abhimaan. It also has a strong feminist message.
Mirror: This is the only version of this story where there would be an off screen connection to the lead couple, and that too in an opposite manner. Jaya Bhaduri was a bigger name when she met the relatively unknown Amitabh Bachchan, and the roles reversed when he went on to become Bollywood’s greatest star. For many it is their defining film together.
Acting: The lead stars delivered great performances, but what made this more interesting was that it was Bachchan’s last raw performance before superstardom kicked in and audiences started looking at him through a magnified lens.
Lessons: Abhimaan delivers many life lessons that remain relevant 50 years after it was released, including the perils of jealousy and ego, and the importance of humility. In one particularly poignant moment Bachchan’s character is told some home truths by Asrani, which really hit home. It is also seen as a movie that teaches working couples an important lesson.
Artistic: Most movies inspired by A Star Is Born are glitzy entertainers, but what director Hrishikesh Mukherjee brilliantly did was find the hallowed middle ground between the commercial and artistic with this film. It gave the movie added depth and realism.
Scenes from the movie
Journey: Instead of the established star committing suicide like in the other films, the lead protagonist goes on a complete journey. In the opening he is seen as a confident celebrity on stage, dressed in western attire. The final scene is also on stage, but by now he has found humility, while his ego is shattered. He is apologetic and appears in traditional Indian clothes.
Songs: One of the last great soundtracks composed by legendary music director SD Burman has timeless songs, which found power in simplicity and remain wonderful 50 years later. With lovely lyrics by Majrooh Sultanpuri, the songs were a connecting point between the golden era of Hindi cinema and more modern music that came later. In many ways, the songs acted like the narrator of a powerful story. SD Burman would win a Filmfare Best Music Director award.
Music: The songs were entertaining, but Abhimaan also showed how much of a big part music plays in people’s lives, which other adaptations did not really do. The movie also showed the real talents and trained maestros as down to earth individuals, who loved the purity of music ahead of any fame, which is something not seen in other adaptations of A Star Is Born.
Nightingale: Lata Mangeshkar delivered some of the finest songs of her illustrious career in the film. In many ways the character played by Jaya Bhaduri represented her natural talent and simplicity.
Themes: The simple story skilfully tackles multiple themes that include toxic masculinity, ego, fragility of marriage, fleeting nature of fame, love, the relationship of an artist with fame, redemption, and mental health. It is also a cautionary tale of letting your own importance take over.
Reality: Abhimaan didn’t need the heroes and villains that have largely defined Hindi cinema. It has grey shaded characters rooted in reality, who are trapped in societal expectations, which is why it remains relevant and relatable 50 years later.
Simplicity: Whether it was the relatively simple setting, stripped back songs or understated performances, the musical drama showed that less could be more. That was largely due to the effective story, skilled direction, and great performances by the actors.
Flawed hero: When the movie was made, the Bollywood hero was nearly always a shining beacon of goodness, but Abhimaan flipped the script and made him flawed. This made him more relatable to audiences.
Ending: Pretty much all the remakes of A Star Is Born have a tragic ending with the
male protagonist giving into suicide, but in Abhimaan he learns an important lesson without resorting to drastic action and subsequently gives a more powerful message to audiences.
Scenes: Whether it is Bindu greeting the newlyweds with grace and dignity, musical moments, Bachchan’s character getting drunk, the confrontations, conflicts, and moments of remorse, Abhimaan is filled with memorable scenes.
Family friendly: It may have dealt with adult themes, but the movie was family friendly and ultimately connected with audiences of all ages across the decades. That is why it remains a classic today.
Did you know?
Abhimaan released weeks after Amitabh Bachchan and Jaya Bhaduri had got married.
It was the first film produced by Amitabh and Jaya under their company Amiya, with their personal secretaries fronting it.
The film was initially titled Raag Ragini.
Jaya Bhaduri won a Filmfare Best Actress award for her performance, which she jointly shared with Dimple Kapadia, for her role in Bobby.
One historical account says the story was inspired by the break-up of Kishore Kumar and his wife Ruma Guha Thakurta. Another claims the story was inspired by the troubled marriage of classical Indian maestros Pandit Ravi Shankar and Annapurna Devi.
Popular singer Anuradha Paudwal started her film journey by singing the song Omkaram Bindu Sanyuktam for Abhimaan.
The film’s song Loote Koi Man Ka Nagar was supposed to be sung by Mukesh. But he refused after hearing the demo version by Manhar Udhas and said he should remain the singer.
Asrani and Bindu got Best Supporting Actor and Actress nominations at the Filmfare Awards, for roles that were dramatically different to their usual comedian and vamp characters.
Abhishek Bachchan wanted to remake Abhimaan with director Rakeysh Omprakash Mehra.
The song Nadiya Kinaare was shot entirely in a tourist village called Asoga.
Perhaps the biggest Bollywood celebration this year is the 50th anniversary of the iconic film Sholay, which smashed box-office records when it was released in 1975.
But what most Hindi cinema fans may not realise is that another film released that same year (technically) made a bigger profit – with a much higher return on investment. In that regard, it remains perhaps the most profitable Bollywood movie in history.
Hindu devotional drama worked miracles at the box office IMDb
That micro-budget film, Jai Santoshi Maa, achieved something so miraculous it has never been replicated. The second-highest box-office grosser of 1975, it earned more than all-time classics released that year, including Deewaar, Dharmatma and Chupke Chupke – all led by superstars. Despite having no big stars, no lavish sets, minimal marketing and being made on a shoestring budget, the Hindu devotional drama worked miracles at the box office after its release on May 30, 1975.
Eastern Eye marks the landmark film’s 50th anniversary by revisiting its remarkable story and impact, one largely forgotten over time.
The film was written with its limitations in mind, using minimal sets and focusing on emotion IMDb
Struggling actor Vijay Sharma made the leap to directing with this deeply religious drama. At a time when Bollywood was dominated by action films headlined by big stars, he secured only a modest budget – thought to be around `500,000 (£5,000) – from low-profile producer Satram Rohra.
With such limited funds, there was no scope for elaborate sets, special effects, a large cast or any major names. Kanan Kaushal, previously seen in minor supporting roles, was cast in the lead. Anita Guha, who had some success in the 1950s but was mostly inactive by the 1970s, was brought in for a guest appearance as the divine title character.
With such limited funds, there was no scope for elaborate sets, special effects, a large cast or any major names Scroll.in
Bharat Bhushan, once a major star in the 1950s and early 60s but by then largely forgotten, took on a role out of necessity. Trilok Kapoor – younger brother of Prithviraj Kapoor and uncle to Shammi, Raj and Shashi – was also struggling for work and joined the cast.
What the film lacked in glamour, it made up for with a powerful, spiritually resonant soundtrack. Composer C Arjun and lyricist Kavi Pradeep, both relatively obscure at the time, delivered career-best work despite budget constraints.
Unable to afford Lata Mangeshkar or Asha Bhosle, they turned to their lesser-known sister, Usha Mangeshkar. They did, however, manage to get Manna Dey and Mahendra Kapoor to sing one song each. The film was written with its limitations in mind, using minimal sets and focusing on emotion.
The film became a case study in how faith can fuel fandomIMDb
The story followed a pious woman who remains devoted to the goddess Santoshi Maa despite enduring severe hardship, poverty and abuse from her in-laws. Her unwavering faith is ultimately rewarded when the goddess intervenes to restore justice and peace.
When the film was ready to be released, no major distributor would take it. A smaller company finally agreed to give it a limited release, and then something extraordinary happened. It's simple storytelling, emotional arc and devotional songs struck a deep chord with audiences. Unlike the more extravagant mythological films of earlier decades, Jai Santoshi Maa was intimate, emotional and spiritual.
It felt less like watching a film and more like experiencing a prayer. What the film lacked in advertising, it made up for with astonishing word of mouth. Its appeal extended beyond the religious – the emotional story of a woman’s resilience resonated especially with female viewers.
Songs like Main To Aarti Utaru Re Santoshi Mata Ki had entire theatres singing along. While wealthier audiences flocked to watch star-studded blockbusters, grassroots viewers embraced everything about this modest devotional film, especially its message of hope.
Cinema halls screening the movie were transformed into makeshift temples, with patrons arriving barefoot, applying vermillion on their foreheads and distributing prasad after screenings. In some places, audiences performed prayers before the film began. Prasad counters even appeared inside theatres – unheard of in Indian cinema until then.
There were female-only screenings and reports of coconuts being broken at theatre entrances. In rural areas, entire villages organised trips to the nearest towns to catch a glimpse of the goddess on screen. Traditional moviegoers were replaced by worshippers, many of whom wept during the film and sang bhajans in the aisles.
As one historian recalled, “Watching Jai Santoshi Maa wasn’t like watching a movie – it was like participating in a collective act of worship.”
Cinemas that had initially rejected the film scrambled to secure it, leading to a dream run across India. When Sholay released a few months later, it crushed most of the competition, except Jai Santoshi Maa, which continued its successful run. In fact, had Sholay not been released, the devotional drama would likely have earned even more.
While record-breaking films like Sholay returned 10 to 15 times their investment, Jai Santoshi Maa reportedly earned over 100 times its budget. One journalist wrote, “Sholay gave us fire and bullets, while Jai Santoshi Maa gave us faith and devotion – and the box office bowed to both.”
Despite its massive earnings, reports suggest the producer was cheated by distributors and saw little profit. Yet the legacy of Jai Santoshi Maa went far beyond box office success.
Following its release, Santoshi Maa temples sprang up across India. Calendars, posters and religious books featuring her image flooded markets.
The film became a case study in how faith can fuel fandom, inspiring similar devotional films and later mythological television serials.
Lead actress Kanan Kaushal became so adored that fans often greeted her with reverence. Anita Guha, who played the goddess, was so strongly associated with the role that she was referred to as “Santoshi Maa” in public, with some people even seeking her blessings.
In an era dominated by big budgets and big stars, Jai Santoshi Maa remains a timeless reminder that faith and storytelling can achieve what no spectacle can. It had no brooding heroes, no bullets, and not a single superstar – but it accomplished something no other film has matched.
Remakes and similar concepts followed, but none could replicate its divine success. As director Vijay Sharma later said, “We thought it would do okay in devotional circuits. But the response was something else – a tidal wave of emotion and faith.”
The British Asian community, especially the acting fraternity, will be fascinated to learn that film director Waris Hussein is halfway through writing his memoirs. After all, how many British Asian directors can lay claim to straightening Richard Burton’s tie?
He directed Burton and Elizabeth Taylor in the film Divorce His, Divorce Hers in 1973.
Hussein, who is 86 and not as mobile as he used to be since suffering a stroke a few years ago, is expected to attend Eastern Eye’s Arts, Culture & Theatre Awards (ACTA) on Friday (23).
As a young man fresh out of Cambridge, he made television history when he directed the first seven episodes of Dr Who in 1963 and established what has since become the BBC’s most successful franchise that has been sold all over the world.
Hussein and Richard Burton getty images
In fact, when the BBC marked the 50th anniversary of Doctor Who in 2013 with a specially written drama called An Adventure in Space and Time, the young Hussein was played by the actor Sacha Dhawan.
Hussein, who has spent many years of his career working in America, has maintained a home in London, where he talked to Eastern Eye.
“I’ve worked with some of the most eminent people in the business – (Laurence) Olivier, (John) Gielgud, Peggy Ashcroft, Sybil Thorndike, and then eminent movie people like Tony Hopkins,” he said.
He laughed: “I have a whole wall on which I keep photos of people I’ve worked with – I call it my wall of fame.”
There is a picture of him with Angela Lansbury and Patricia Hodge – the latter had written, “Darling Waris, I think I look drunk with happiness at working with you again.”
There is an inscription from Anthony Quinn whom he had directed in Onassis: “To Waris, a fantastic director & friend.”
Hussein with Angela Lansbury and Patricia Hodge on the set of The Shell Seekersgetty images
There are photographs of him with Bette Davis; Claire Bloom; Sybil Thorndike; Donald Sutherland and Teri Garr; Ian McKellen and Janet Suzman; Jeanne Moreau, Joan Plowright & Julie Walters; Keith Michell (as Henry VIII); Laurence Olivier and Joan Plowright; Peggy Ashcroft (in Edward & Mrs Simpson); Stephanie Powers & Eva Gardner; Ted Danson & Richard Mansur; and Barry Manilow. There is one with Bill Clinton who played himself in A Child’s Wish – the US president had written, “I enjoyed taking direction from you.”
Hussein’s record suggests he is probably the most successful director the British Asian community has produced in the last half-century.
Waris Habibullah (he later changed his surname to Hussein) was born in Lucknow in India on December 9, 1938, which is why he felt an instinctive sympathy for the former BBC presenter Mishal Husain when he read that her family had also originated from Lucknow.
Hussein with his mother Attia Hosain and Barry Manilow on the set of Copacabanagetty images
He said: “Lucknow is central to my background, where I was born and raised. It is known for its arts, culture and cuisine, and I am proud of that heritage.”
The young Hussein came to Britain with his family in 1946. He went to public school at Clifton College in Bristol and read English at Queens’ College, Cambridge. He has reservations about his time at Clifton: “I had a hard time, because in my mind, Clifton was created in the mid-19th century to educate administrators for the empire – for the ICS (Indian Civil Service). Most of the older boys were sent off to India to administrate and be a part of that landscape. I was resentful at being told that I should expect to order people around in an authoritarian way.”
In marked contrast, “Cambridge was three years of the most important period of my life. I made so many friends there who are now prominent in their fields. One of my contemporaries was Ian McKellen, whom I had the privilege of working with in the very first film that I made. I had directed him as a student. I was able to express myself in a way that I don’t think I would have been able to do anywhere else. At Cambridge you get not only a scientific university, but it encouraged arts. And some of my professors were very prominent in the arts, and I learned a lot from them.”
Hussein with Bill Clinton on the set of A Child’s Wishgetty images
His mother, Attia Hosain, who had a patrician background, was also a great influence on him. After the Partition of India, she chose not to go to Pakistan.
“I owe much to my mother’s creativity and her incredible resilience, because she was transplanted here (to the UK),” he said. “She wrote her first (semi-autobiographical) novel (Sunlight on a Broken Column) in English way back in 1961. It is still read by many, many women in colleges in India. My book is a tribute to her.”
He said of his memoirs: “What I’m trying to do is reorganise my rambling and my memories about being an outsider looking in. Since my stroke, I have begun to appreciate life even more. Apart from being taken care of by some very good medical people, I’m also surrounded by others who look after me. I’m determined to survive as much as I can, particularly on my own terms. In spite of my condition, I’m very lucid. I’ve got my mental marbles, and I can vividly remember things that have happened in my life – the names and places of people I’ve encountered.
Hussein with Donald Sutherland and Teri Garr on the set of The Winter of Our Discontentgetty images
“I’m hanging my narrative on the people I’ve known and who were important in my life. The only thing to do is to be honest about these things and not hide anything. Most of my friends are people of a literary nature – they are creative, write and think for themselves, and encourage me to do the same. I’m inspired by my friend Miriam Margolyes, who wrote her memoirs. She spoke quite openly about her emotional situation. People might be interested in mine because of my Doctor Who connection.
He recalled: “If you look at my repertoire, at the height of the BBC’s golden age of drama, I was doing up to 10 dramas a year. I did things like (Bernard) Shaw’s Saint Joan and Ibsen’s Hedda Gabler, which are classics with prominent actors. I’ve dealt with everything from Henry VIII to the abdication of Edward VIII.”
Hussein with Donald Sutherland and Teri Garr on the set of The Winter of Our Discontentgetty images
In February 2018, the National Film Institute devoted the whole month to a retrospective on his work called Breaking Through. The season began with a screening of A Passage to India (1965), which he felt had “echoes of my own life in terms of my origin”.
A Passage to India was based on EM Forster’s 1924 novel about the clash between two cultures. The impressionable Adela Quested, freshly arrived in India, imagines Dr Aziz has behaved inappropriately towards her while showing her the mysterious Marabar Caves. The ensuing trial proves he was innocent, but exposed the fault lines in the relationship between Indians and their colonial masters.
Other films in the season included The Possession of Joel Delaney (1972), a psychodrama starring Shirley MacLaine; Chips with Everything (1975); and Copacabana (1985), with Barry Manilow.
Dame Sybil Thorndike in A Passage to Indiagetty images
Some of the stars he had worked with came for the respective screenings of their films. For example, Virginia McKenna attended the screening of A Passage to India, Janet Suzman came for Hedda Gabler (1972), Ian McKellen for A Touch of Love (1968), and Claire Bloom for Intimate Contact (1968), a tale of how heterosexual AIDS devastates a family.
When he was interviewed on stage by the arts journalist Samira Ahmed, two-minute clips were shown from some of his other films. They included Daphne Laureola (1978), starring Laurence Olivier and Joan Plowright; Edward & Mrs Simpson (1978), which earned him a BAFTA; and Divorce His, Divorce Hers (1973), starring Burton and Taylor.
Some of Hussein’s early work had been wiped clean by the BBC, it was revealed.
On television in 1976, he directed The Glittering Prizes, which gave Tom Conti’s career a huge boost.
Hussein with Sacha Dhawangetty images
Sometimes, he suffered racist abuse. He once told Eastern Eye that his sister, Shama Habibullah, later a distinguished film producer, “left England because of all this. She went to Cheltenham Ladies’ College, to Cambridge, is highly educated, far more intelligent than me. One day she was waiting at a bus stop on Clapham Common and a drunkard abused her. ‘Why don’t you f****** people go home? You breed like rabbits. You smell of curry.’ Nobody said anything. She came home in tears and said, ‘I can’t live here anymore. What has it all meant? Why did I go to school here when this is what I’m reduced to?’”
An autographed photograph of Hussein with Anthony Quinn on the set of Onassisgetty images
He received worse abuse at a dinner party in the late 1970s. “It was a very smart, upper-class dinner in Campden Hill. All male company. This man sat next to me and said, ‘And what do you do?’ I told him I was directing Edward and Mrs Simpson and he replied, ‘Fancy! I had no idea we’d have colonials telling us about our lives.’ After dinner this man said, ‘Ugh, I really don’t think I can be in the same room as that man over there,’ pointing to me. I stood up and said, ‘I’m going to spare you that embarrassment. One thing I will say is I was brought up to be polite and a gentleman under your British rule, and I know what the rules are. Some of you obviously don’t. I’m going to leave now.’”
In writing his memoirs, he said he hoped he might be providing “a beacon for the younger generation who might want to know what I have done.”
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“This book was born from the belief that no story is ever small,” she said
Banu Mushtaq has made literary history by becoming the first Kannada writer to win the International Booker Prize. The 2025 award was given for her short story collection Heart Lamp, a collaboration with translator Deepa Bhasthi, who rendered the work into English. The pair will share the £50,000 prize, which was presented at a ceremony at London’s Tate Modern on 20 May.
Published by Penguin Random House India, Heart Lamp is a collection of twelve short stories written between 1990 and 2023. It explores the lives of women in southern India, particularly in Karnataka, portraying their struggles and strength within patriarchal communities. The stories are grounded in regional oral storytelling traditions and have been praised for their wit, vividness and emotional depth.
Chair of the judging panel, Max Porter, called the book “a radical translation which ruffles language, to create new textures in a plurality of Englishes,” adding that the result is “genuinely new for English readers.”
Mushtaq, who is also known for her work as a lawyer and activist, reflected on the significance of the award during her acceptance speech. “This book was born from the belief that no story is ever small,” she said. “In a world that often tries to divide us, literature remains one of the lost sacred spaces where we can live inside each other's minds, if only for a few pages.”
Bhasthi’s translation has been praised for preserving the multilingual and musical essence of the original Kannada text. She chose to retain Kannada, Urdu and Arabic words in the English version, aiming to reflect the region’s everyday speech patterns. Speaking at a recent event at Champaca Bookstore in Bengaluru, she said, “None of us speaks ‘proper English’ in Karnataka… I wanted Indian readers to hear the deliberate Kannada hum behind it.”
In an earlier interview with The New Indian Express, Mushtaq addressed the personal dimensions of her writing. “I was asked to write about my contexts, and so I did. But at the same time, I didn’t want to be confined within the identity of the ‘Muslim woman’,” she said.
Heart Lamp is the first short story collection to win the International Booker Prize and only the second Indian title overall, following Geetanjali Shree’s Tomb of Sand, which won in 2022.
Fiammetta Rocco, Administrator of the prize, described the book as “a testament to the enduring fight for women's rights, translated with sympathy and ingenuity,” encouraging readers of all backgrounds to engage with its themes.
The 2025 shortlist featured works translated from Danish, French, Japanese and Italian. Each shortlisted book received £5,000, divided between the author and translator.
A NEW dance-theatre production explores how women enforce patriarchal rules upon their daughters and the consequent impact on family and societal structures, its artistic director said.
Choreographer Amina Khayyam uses Kathak, the classical Indian dance in her new production – Bibi Rukiya’s Reckless Daughter – to raise awareness about gender prejudice in ethnic communities.
In an interview with Eastern Eye, Khayyam also stressed the importance of mutual support among women during challenging situations.
Loosely based on Federico García Lorca’s The House of Bernarda Alba, the 70-minute show is set in modern, inner-city migrant communities.
The story centres on widow Bibi Rukiya, who restricts her three daughters’ freedom to maintain family honour and secure marriages. One daughter challenges her mother’s authority and questions her role as a woman.
Khayyam said, “I have a fondness for Lorca and the subjects he covers, particularly because they still resonate in our communities and culture. I work with women’s groups across the UK, particularly those who have difficult backgrounds like domestic violence or mental health issues, and I find those stories from Lorca really resonate with these communities,”
Bibi Rukiya was created over 18 months through workshops with women’s community groups across Britain. Participants collaborated with professional artists from the Amina Khayyam Dance Company to explore mother-daughter relationships.
Khayyam said these shaped the content and ensured the production reflects genuine experiences.
“I take the subject to them and then explore it through movement and storytelling, hearing their perspectives. When these women come back to see the performance, they see themselves and can relate to the stories,” the artist said.
Workshops were conducted in London, Luton and Birmingham for the production and more than 250 women took part.
Khayyam said, “Our show examines how women impose patriarchal rules on their daughters and the consequences thereof. We investigate why women perpetuate these structures and whom they serve by doing so, facilitating self-discovery, rather than providing answers.
“Centuries of conditioning have established clear, hierarchical gender roles in our society. Women who’ve experienced lifelong suffering often expect their daughters and daughters-in-law to endure similar hardships, following the principle, ‘I suffered, so you suffer now’, rather than breaking this cycle.
“We express these revelations through dance, movement and storytelling, bringing professional dancers and female musicians to the stage. Participants are encouraged to articulate their experiences in their native languages – Punjabi, Gujarati, Bengali, Hindi and English – which we then develop into poetry or narrative.”
She added, “We teach Kathak basics and mudras, providing theatrical elements that combine movement and text. While some participants initially resist dancing due to cultural taboos, most ultimately embrace it upon discovering its emotional benefits. We maintain women-only environments to ensure participants feel safe to express themselves freely.”
Khayyam, who is British Bangladeshi, began her Kathak dance training with Alpana Sengupta and progressed to professional level with Sushmita Ghosh at The Bhavan in London.
She then made her professional debut at the Southbank Centre.
Describing the use of Kathak to express complex emotions in the show, she said, “Kathak comes from katha, which means storyteller. We explore many different emotions within our form, and as we are storytellers, it lends itself to tell those stories. “In Kathak, we have many different tools – like spins with rhythmic footwork – as well as storytelling mudras, head gestures; all of this can come into play when we’re creating stories.”
Khayyam said the show uses music, movement and footwork to depict complex themes.
“In one scene there’s a conflict between the mother and the three daughters. We’re adapting it to three daughters as opposed to the five daughters originally in the book. There’s something called sawal jawab – question and answer.
“Through the footwork, the daughters are having a huge head-to-head with each other, and one of the best ways to bring that positively and impactfully is through sawal jawab – asking questions and giving answers – only through footwork.”
Set up in 2013 and based in Slough, the Amina Khayyam Dance Company has 15 pieces of work to its credit, with 160 shows in 40 venues in the UK and abroad.
Khayyam said her hope was for audiences to “go away and think about what they just saw”.
She added, “Sometimes we’re quite blinkered; we just carry on with life without questioning things, and I would like people to be able to question.
“Second, I’d like those south Asian women, both those we’ve worked with and those we haven’t, to be able to stop and think, ‘This is something we have in our community. How do we deal with this? How do we change it? How do we evolve this situation and empower these women who are trapped in it?’ With every show we’ve done in the past, we like to leave a question with the audience.
“It’s also about awareness. Sometimes we walk down the street and there’s a huge tree, but we never notice it – we take it for granted. Then suddenly we look up and think, “Wow, this tree is amazing.” We want to bring this kind of awareness into their lives, to recognise what’s happening and how we can help each other.
“In the workshops with women, I stressed that they need to support each other, because often that support isn’t there. We’re judging a lot, gossiping, and we need to support each other when we see difficult situations. That’s what I would like the show to bring about.”
Bibi Rukiya’sReckless Daughter will have its premiere at the Birmingham Hippodrome next Thursday (22) and Friday (23), followed by a national tour starting in autumn 2025
Susan Stronge was understandably a little emotional as she spoke to Eastern Eye last Monday (5), the final day of the exhibition on The Great Mughals: Art, Architecture and Opulence, the exhibition she curated at the Victoria and Albert Museum.
The exhibition opened on 9 November 2024 to celebrate “the extraordinary creative output and internationalist culture of the golden age of the Mughal court (about 1560–1660), during the reigns of its most famous emperors: Akbar, Jahangir and Shah Jahan.”
There was a large crowd on the last day to catch one more glimpse of the jewellery, paintings, armour, textiles, carpets and other works of art before they were taken down to make way for the next exhibition, Marie Antoinette Style: Shaped by the most fashionable queen in history, in September.
By any reckoning, The Great Mughals has been a huge success. On the final day, Stronge wandered through the gallery, listening to visitors’ chatter – few of them aware she was the curator who had selected the objects now holding them spellbound.
A gem-set dagger, pendant and flask
“I’ll miss it when it goes,” she admitted. “But I’m very, very pleased it’s been so successful and people have obviously enjoyed it. I quite liked eavesdropping on people who are talking to each other about the objects. I heard a couple who were looking at the jewelled jade pendant that arguably could have been made for Jahangir. The chap looked at it and said it was worth coming just to see that one piece. I thought that was fantastic.
“I am struck by the number of people who tell me they have been two, three, four, five, even 10 times. I have a Pakistani friend from Lahore, who is now in London, and he was coming every Friday and he was in week six.”
The Great Mughals was Stronge’s swansong after 49 years at the V&A. She formally retired in February as senior curator in the Asian department, where she had mentored many over the decades. Another of her exhibitions that she feels has left “a significant legacy” was The Art of the Sikh Kingdoms in 1999.
She said: “I have got a three-year position in the museum as an honorary senior research fellow in the research department of the V&A Research Institute.”
Although she is now recognised as a leading scholar in Sikh and Mughal art, she feels she came into the field almost by accident.
“A happy accident,” she acknowledged.
A model of the cenotaph of Mumtaz Mahal
She is a Yorkshire girl who grew up in Ripon in a family where visiting museums wasn’t the done thing. She initially did voluntary work in Norwich, at the Castle Museum and in Strangers’ Hall, a Grade I listed building. She didn’t know it then, but her life was set to change when she applied for, and got, a job as an assistant at the V&A in 1976.
“I was told at the interview I’d be in ceramics, metalwork or the press office,” she recalled. “When I turned up for work, the first day, they said, ‘Oh, you are in (what was then) the Indian section.’ This was a surprise, but also disconcerting, because I knew nothing about India, its history and culture. The keeper of the department was John Irwin, who was a very distinguished textile historian.
“I did an MA at SOAS in South Asia studies and was taught by John Burton-Page, who was a fantastic teacher of Mughal architecture and art. It snowballed from there as I got more and more interested. We did interesting exhibitions (at the V&A) under Robert Skelton’s leadership. We did Arts of Bengal in 1979. No two years were the same. We were given so many opportunities.”
Her interest in Mughal art “evolved over many years. I’ve been teaching a lot on South Asian art courses”.
She found the Western way of defining fine or decorative art “did not apply at all to Mughal or other Eastern arts. So, I started thinking about how to present it.
“I did a book many years ago (2010) called Made for Mughal Emperors: Royal Treasures from Hindustan which was published by Roli in India. I did it by theme, and took things like the institution of the royal household, the imperial treasury. It was much more rooted in telling the cultural story of the history and atmosphere of the court.”
She likes the word “Hindustan”, because the art of pre-Partition India takes in present-day India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Afghanistan, and Myanmar. It was also what the Mughals called their own territories.
Coming to the present, she said that when the V&A’s current director, Tristram Hunt, “said he would like a South Asian exhibition, I suggested The Great Mughals, and it was added to the schedule – though plans were later disrupted by the pandemic.”
And, a floorspread
She began by considering the objects she could pick, and is grateful for the loans from the Al-Sabah collection in Kuwait. She said the late Sheikh Nasser “had an absolute passion for Mughal art”, and his wife, Sheikha Hussa, had been “incredibly generous”.
Stronge offered an insight into her approach to curating the exhibition: “I wanted to show the very great art produced over 100 years under Akbar, Jahangir and Shah Jahan. I also wanted to explain something of the history and the cultural context, and also show how hybrid the culture was. That is reflected in the hybridity of the art.
“In the West you tend to see Hindu and Muslim in completely separate categories. That’s not the reality. People share in each other’s religious festivals. That’s why in the studies of art history, ‘Islamic art’ is an almost meaningless term.
“Art historians (in the West) can’t quite place the Mughal empire, because it is not purely Islamic. The rulers are Muslim, but the majority of the population was Hindu. Akbar had Hindu wives and Jahangir had a Hindu mother. It’s not something that fits into Western categorisation. It’s much more hybrid. That’s something I wanted to get across – and how remarkable the artists were. Most of us, certainly me, had never heard of them before I joined the V&A. People like Ustad Mansur, Abu’l-Hasan, and the Iranian master Sa’ida Gilani, a goldsmith who crafted jade artefacts. What is so frustrating is how little we know about their lives or backgrounds.
“The thing that surprises many people is the primacy of the Persian language in the Mughal courts. It was the cultural language of the court, whether you were Hindu or Muslim. One of the leading poets under Jahangir was a Brahmin writing in Persian. I wanted to show the internationalism of the court, the importance of the Persian language and the beauty of the objects. Then there are things, like enamelling, which is a difficult craft. It comes from a foreign technique but becomes completely Mughal and sensational.”
Some of the craft techniques had survived, passed down from one generation to the next.
“There’s this wonderful continuity,” she commented.
She said the Aga Khan Trust for Culture, for example, was trying to revive “the craft of inlaying wood with mother of pearl. They wanted to copy a canopy that had been made in Gujarat and moved to a shrine in Nizamuddin in Delhi. They wanted to put it in their new museum. And, in doing so, they revived a craft that had been completely lost.
“They had to reinvent it almost by trial and error, and they’ve done it to perfection. We showed a short film about the technique in the exhibition.”
Perhaps most important of all, what her exhibition shows is that the Mughals were and remain an integral part of India, its history and its culture.
“If you remove them (from India’s history), you’re removing some of the greatest monuments in the world from the narrative, aren’t you?” she pointed out.
“How do you explain the Taj Mahal, the forts in Delhi and Agra, the endless tombs and monuments? If you don’t know the historical context, you’re losing a lot. It’s something to be proud of.
“If you’ve got a country with a Taj Mahal, it’s something to celebrate.”