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By:

Rajeev Puri

24 October 2024 at 5:11:37 am

Before Sholay, there was Mera Gaon Mera Desh

When the comedian and television host Kapil Sharma recently welcomed the veteran screenwriter Salim Khan onto his show, he made a striking claim. India, he joked, has a national bird and a national animal; it ought also to have a national film. That film, he suggested, would surely be Sholay. Few would quarrel with the sentiment. Released in 1975 and directed by Ramesh Sippy,  Sholay  has long been treated as the Everest of Hindi popular cinema -quoted endlessly, revisited by generations and...

Before Sholay, there was Mera Gaon Mera Desh

When the comedian and television host Kapil Sharma recently welcomed the veteran screenwriter Salim Khan onto his show, he made a striking claim. India, he joked, has a national bird and a national animal; it ought also to have a national film. That film, he suggested, would surely be Sholay. Few would quarrel with the sentiment. Released in 1975 and directed by Ramesh Sippy,  Sholay  has long been treated as the Everest of Hindi popular cinema -quoted endlessly, revisited by generations and dissected by critics. In 2025, the film marked its 50th anniversary, and the release of a digitally restored, uncut version introduced the classic to a new generation of viewers who discovered that its mixture of revenge drama, western pastiche and buddy comedy remains curiously durable. The film’s influences have been debated almost as much as its dialogues – from scenes taken by the Spaghetti westerns of Sergio Leone, particularly ‘Once Upon a Time in the West’ (1968) or to the narrative architecture of ‘Seven Samurai’ (1954) by Akira Kurosawa. Others note echoes of earlier Hindi films about bandits and frontier justice, such as ‘Khotey Sikke’ (1973) starring Feroz Khan. Yet, rewatching ‘Mera Gaon Mera Desh,’ directed by Raj Khosla, one cannot help noticing how many of the narrative bones of  Sholay  appear to have been assembled there first. Released in 1971,  Mera Gaon Mera Desh  was a major hit at the box office, notable for holding its own in a year dominated by the near-hysterical popularity of Rajesh Khanna. The thematic framework of the two films is strikingly similar. In  Sholay , the retired policeman Thakur Baldev Singh recruits two petty criminals - Jai and Veeru - to help him avenge the terror inflicted upon his village by the bandit Gabbar Singh. In  Mera Gaon Mera Desh , the set-up is not very different. A retired soldier, Jaswant Singh, seeks to protect his village from a ruthless dacoit and enlists the help of a small-time crook named Ajit. Even the villain’s name seems to echo across the two films. In Khosla’s drama, the marauding bandit played by Vinod Khanna is scene-stealing performance is called Jabbar Singh. In  Sholay , the outlaw who would become one of Indian cinema’s most memorable antagonists was Gabbar Singh. There is an additional irony in the casting. In  Mera Gaon Mera Desh , the retired soldier Jaswant Singh is played by Jayant - the real-life father of Amjad Khan, who would later immortalise Gabbar Singh in  Sholay . The connective tissue between the two films becomes even clearer in the presence of Dharmendra. In Khosla’s film he plays Ajit, a charming rogue who gradually redeems himself while defending the village. Four years later, Dharmendra returned in  Sholay  as Veeru, a similarly exuberant petty criminal whose courage and irrepressible humour make him one half of Hindi cinema’s most beloved buddy duo alongside Amitabh Bachchan as Jai. Certain visual motifs also appear to have travelled intact. In Khosla’s film, Ajit finds himself bound in ropes in the bandit’s den during a dramatic musical sequence. A similar image appears in  Sholay , where Veeru is tied up before Gabbar Singh while Basanti performs the now famous song ‘Jab Tak Hai Jaan.’ Other echoes are subtler but just as suggestive. Ajit’s pursuit of the village belle Anju, played by Asha Parekh, anticipates Veeru’s boisterous attempts to woo Basanti, portrayed by Hema Malini. Scenes in which Ajit teaches Anju to shoot recall the flirtatious gun-training sequence between Veeru and Basanti that became one of  Sholay ’s most cherished moments. Even the famous coin motif has a precedent. Ajit frequently tosses a coin to make decisions - a flourish that would later appear in  Sholay , where Jai’s coin toss becomes a running gag. Perhaps most intriguingly, the endings of the two films converge in their original form. In  Mera Gaon Mera Desh , the villain is ultimately killed by the hero. The uncut version of  Sholay  reportedly ended in a similar fashion, with Gabbar Singh meeting his death at the hands of Thakur Baldev Singh. However, censors altered the climax before the film’s 1975 release, requiring that Gabbar be handed over to the police instead. All this does not diminish  Sholay . Rather, it highlights the alchemy through which cinema evolves. The scriptwriting duo Salim–Javed took familiar ingredients and expanded them into a grander narrative populated by unforgettable characters and stylised action. On the 55 th  anniversary of  Mera Gaon Mera Desh , Raj Khosla’s rugged western deserves a renewed glance as the sturdy foundation on which a legend called  Sholay  was built. (The author is a political commentator and a global affairs observer. Views personal.)

Maharashtra’s Mandate: A New Blueprint for Indian Politics

Maharashtra’s Mandate

The outcome of Maharashtra’s assembly election has surprised politicians and analysts alike. While the ruling Mahayuti coalition celebrated its decisive victory, the opposition Maharashtra Vikas Aghadi (MVA) was left licking its wounds. Post-poll analyses have pointed to the success of welfare schemes like LadkiBahin, effective coordination among the Mahayuti partners, and last-minute policy decisions such as the abolition of tolls at Mumbai’s entry points. However, focusing solely on these surface-level factors risks obscuring deeper shifts in the political calculus of Maharashtra’s voters.


Over the past decade, the BJP has consistently secured over 100 assembly seats in Maharashtra, with a vote share hovering around 26%. This performance is not the result of one-off schemes or charismatic leadership alone. It is the culmination of meticulous booth-level planning, an extensive cadre-based organization, and a clearly articulated ideological vision. While the opposition dabbled in reactionary politics, the BJP presented a coherent narrative that resonated with voters.


The BJP’s emphasis on delivering tangible results has further cemented its credibility. Its push to complete long-pending infrastructure projects, coupled with national achievements like the abrogation of Article 370 and the Ram temple construction, has provided voters with visible proof of governance. Such initiatives reinforce the party’s narrative of Vikas (development) and Virasat (heritage), creating a unique selling point that its opponents have struggled to match.


The MVA, in contrast, failed to present a united front or a compelling alternative. Formed as a post-poll alliance of convenience in 2019, the coalition lacked ideological coherence and a shared vision. The Shiv Sena’s departure from its pro-Hindutva roots, its alliance with erstwhile adversaries like the Congress, and public squabbles over the Chief Minister’s post eroded its credibility.


Similarly, the Congress and NCP appeared disconnected from the changing aspirations of the electorate. Their reliance on legacy issues like inflation and unemployment failed to generate enthusiasm among voters, who have long seen these problems as endemic to Indian governance. The MVA’s inability to modernize its campaign strategy or address grassroots concerns decisively contributed to its downfall.


What sets this election apart is the increasing maturity of Maharashtra’s voters. Issues like agrarian distress, inflation, and urban infrastructure deficiencies remain important, but they no longer serve as the sole determinants of electoral outcomes. Voters recognize that these problems have persisted across administrations and are unlikely to be solved overnight.


Attempts to manipulate sentiment through identity politics also fell flat. Efforts to stoke fears about Gujarat’s economic dominance over Maharashtra, for example, failed to resonate, as voters either dismissed them as baseless or attributed them to broader economic shifts beyond state control. Similarly, the Maratha reservation issue, despite its emotive appeal, failed to sway the electorate, likely because of its cyclical politicization by successive governments.


The electorate’s focus has shifted from emotive rhetoric to measurable outcomes. For instance, while LadkiBahin and other welfare schemes were significant, they succeeded because they were embedded in a broader narrative of governance and delivery. Voters rewarded the BJP not for individual schemes but for its perceived ability to execute its agenda consistently and efficiently.


This pragmatic approach extends to ideological clarity. The BJP’s steadfast commitment to its vision, regardless of criticism, contrasts sharply with the ideological flip-flops of its rivals. The Shiv Sena’sabandonment of its Marathi-centric ethos and the Congress-NCP’s alliance of convenience alienated core supporters and left undecided voters sceptical.


Maharashtra’s mandate holds valuable lessons for India’s political parties. First, voters are demanding clarity of vision and consistency of purpose. Political parties that rely on opportunistic alliances or contradictory positions risk alienating an increasingly discerning electorate.


Second, the importance of grassroots organization cannot be overstated. The BJP’s success underscores the value of meticulous planning and a robust on-ground presence. Opposition parties must invest in strengthening their cadre base and developing comprehensive campaign strategies if they hope to compete effectively.


Finally, political messaging must evolve to reflect the aspirations of a more urbanized, connected, and informed voter base. Traditional issues like unemployment and inflation remain relevant but must be addressed with innovative solutions rather than recycled promises.


For the BJP, the challenge lies in maintaining its momentum. As voters grow more sophisticated, even the smallest missteps will be amplified. Sustaining credibility will require continuous innovation and a commitment to addressing core issues like inflation and infrastructure.


For the MVA and other opposition groups, the path forward demands introspection and reinvention. They must develop a cohesive vision that transcends immediate political gains and resonates with the electorate’s long-term aspirations. Without this, they risk irrelevance in an era where voters are increasingly prioritizing substance over symbolism.


Maharashtra’s election results mark a turning point, not just for the state but for Indian politics as a whole. It has set the stage for a new era of politics, where parties must earn trust rather than assume it. The old playbook is obsolete, and those who fail to adapt risk irrelevance. For a state long seen as India’s political laboratory, this verdict may well serve as a blueprint for the nation.


(The author has worked in a Tata company for more than 30 years.)

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