<p>Of the many staples of Hindi cinema in the ‘60s and the ‘70s, having Sulochana Latkar in the mother’s role was one. Along with Nirupa Roy and Leela Chitnis, Sulochana completed the legendary triumvirate of silver screen mothers. Several generations of Hindi film stars including Nutan, Shammi Kapoor, Hema Malini, Dharmendra, Amitabh Bachchan among others have played her onscreen sons and daughters. Her warm persona and sweet smile was perfectly suited to the image of the quintessential Hindi film mother: noble, nurturing and often naive. </p>.<p>One of the most beloved odes to motherhood in our films, ‘Meri duniya hai maa tere aanchal mein’ from ‘Talash’ (1969) is picturised on her. SD Burman’s distinctly thin voice plays in the film’s opening credits and we see vignettes of a doting mother and her devoted son played by Sulochana and Rajendra Kumar respectively. Ironically, it also happens to be a glaring example of how limiting the career of actresses could be. Sulochana and Kumar were almost the same age. Yet she was the grey-haired maa and he was her university-topping beta. Before her turn to maa and bhabhi roles in Hindi films, Sulochana had a successful run as a leading lady in 1950s Marathi cinema. The veteran actress, one of the last few remaining icons of Hindi cinema’s golden age, passed away earlier this week at the age of 94 due to age-related complications.</p>.<p>For the longest time, mainstream cinema has perpetuated the long-suffering, sacrificing image of motherhood. Naturally, the actresses playing these roles got typecast as adoring moms of promising young men. Their love language was “gaajar ka halwa”. Else we had hapless women who fell ill, met with accidents or got captured by villains in order for the film’s hero’s fearless personality to shine through in these crises. Sometimes a mother would get separated from her children and endure sufferings until a tearful reunion at the end. Sulocahna’s extensive screen mom portrayals spanning decades have covered almost every such trope. But it was her contemporary Nirupa Roy who is immortalised as Hindi cinema’s most definite mother figure courtesy Yash Chopra’s classic ‘Deewaar’ (1975). A powerful depiction of a resolute and idealistic mother who severs ties with her son headed on a path of crime, it was a defining role for Roy. And for final flourish, there was of course the iconic “mere paas maa hai” line.</p>.<p>It is not to say Sulochana didn’t have solid roles in her repertoire. Interestingly, two of her most splendid performances in this category also happen to be the most atypical ones as far as motherhood in Bollywood films are concerned. Bimal Roy’s ‘Sujata’ (1959) is a milestone movie in the actress’ career and among the first few ones where she switched to mom roles. Our cinema exalts motherhood and mothers symbolise virtues like kindness, selflessness, and integrity. But Sujata remarkably recognises that mothers can be prejudiced and flawed, and that motherly love isn’t always all-encompassing. </p>.<p>An important film of its time, Sujata is a commentary on the prevalent casteism in Indian society. An orphan girl from an untouchable caste is raised reluctantly by an upper caste couple alongside their biological daughter. Nutan plays the titular character and Sulochana essays the role of her adoptive mother Charu who constantly struggles with Sujata’s unwanted presence in their lives. Despite her devotion to the family, Sujata grows up never feeling wholly welcome and sensing an inequality in her and her sister’s upbringing. Charu’s own casteist views and the fear of social ostracisation overpowers the fleeting moments of concern and maternal affection she feels for Sujata. Sulochana handles this dichotomy in a most committed manner. The actress carefully utilises her amicable demeanour that turns cold and aloof in Sujata’s presence — never overt to warrant attention but sufficiently indicative of her disapproval.</p>.<p>Looking back, Sujata may appear simplistic in its approach towards the complexity of caste and be pointed out (even rightly so) for its upper caste gaze. What it depicts correctly is the horribly ignorant and prejudiced views that even the supposedly ‘well-meaning’ upper caste people can hold and how it permeates in their actions towards the marginalised. By sheltering Sujata, Charu feels they have done more than what a girl of her background deserves, conveniently overlooking the fact that no efforts were taken to get her educated or accomplished as their own daughter. Charu’s coldness causes Sujata, a headstrong and assertive girl fighting for her love, to grow up into a reticent young woman who has made peace with this unfairness.</p>.<p>For the predictability attached to the mother’s part in yesteryear movies, ‘Johny Mera Naam’ (1970) doesn’t seem very different in the beginning. Here Sulochana plays the widowed mother of two: Dev Anand, a cop and Pran, a smuggler — the latter got separated in boyhood. She yearns for her missing son and prays for his well being — a familiar sight in Bollywood films. The mother isn’t seen much in the rest of the film until its climax. The villain’s disgraced henchman has kidnapped her. He intends to expose ‘Johny’, her cop son operating undercover in their smuggling ring, and with whom he has a beef with — yet another familiar sight in Bollywood films. But the trope’s familiarity ends here for writer-director Vijay Anand takes the bechaari-maa-captive-in-villain’s-lair cliché and turns it on its head.</p>.<p>In the scene, the sly henchman lies to Johny’s mom that her son has apprehended the criminals and asks her to join her son. He’s confident that the old woman, distressed with relentless threats and torture, would take the bait and blow Johny’s cover. Terrified, she surveys the room, spots her son but then composes herself. In a startling fashion she then asks the henchman whom to identify in a hushed voice. The little stunt she has pulled maintains her son’s secret and further damages the henchman’s credibility. She goes on to tell the boss that his lackey had bribed her to identify Johny. The stupefied henchman realizes the woman has gloriously outsmarted him while his exasperated boss is confused about whom to believe. </p>.<p>A thrilling confrontation ensues with both parties trying to convince the boss of the other’s falsehood. The gifted filmmaker that he was, Vijay Anand turns this into a riveting sequence of drama, emotion and a heartwarming reunion which is elevated by the actors’ fabulous performances. Top of the table is Sulochana. This is her moment and she shines amidst a bunch of scene-stealing performers like Jeevan, Prem Nath, and Pran. As the sharp, quick-thinking, in-control mother who braves blows and intimidation, outsmarts the baddies, rescues one son and is reunited with the other, she is a triumph to watch.</p>.<p>The ease with which Sulochana enacts her part and the terrific chemistry she shares with her scene partners is a reminder of her skillfulness and yet how underused she remained. </p>
<p>Of the many staples of Hindi cinema in the ‘60s and the ‘70s, having Sulochana Latkar in the mother’s role was one. Along with Nirupa Roy and Leela Chitnis, Sulochana completed the legendary triumvirate of silver screen mothers. Several generations of Hindi film stars including Nutan, Shammi Kapoor, Hema Malini, Dharmendra, Amitabh Bachchan among others have played her onscreen sons and daughters. Her warm persona and sweet smile was perfectly suited to the image of the quintessential Hindi film mother: noble, nurturing and often naive. </p>.<p>One of the most beloved odes to motherhood in our films, ‘Meri duniya hai maa tere aanchal mein’ from ‘Talash’ (1969) is picturised on her. SD Burman’s distinctly thin voice plays in the film’s opening credits and we see vignettes of a doting mother and her devoted son played by Sulochana and Rajendra Kumar respectively. Ironically, it also happens to be a glaring example of how limiting the career of actresses could be. Sulochana and Kumar were almost the same age. Yet she was the grey-haired maa and he was her university-topping beta. Before her turn to maa and bhabhi roles in Hindi films, Sulochana had a successful run as a leading lady in 1950s Marathi cinema. The veteran actress, one of the last few remaining icons of Hindi cinema’s golden age, passed away earlier this week at the age of 94 due to age-related complications.</p>.<p>For the longest time, mainstream cinema has perpetuated the long-suffering, sacrificing image of motherhood. Naturally, the actresses playing these roles got typecast as adoring moms of promising young men. Their love language was “gaajar ka halwa”. Else we had hapless women who fell ill, met with accidents or got captured by villains in order for the film’s hero’s fearless personality to shine through in these crises. Sometimes a mother would get separated from her children and endure sufferings until a tearful reunion at the end. Sulocahna’s extensive screen mom portrayals spanning decades have covered almost every such trope. But it was her contemporary Nirupa Roy who is immortalised as Hindi cinema’s most definite mother figure courtesy Yash Chopra’s classic ‘Deewaar’ (1975). A powerful depiction of a resolute and idealistic mother who severs ties with her son headed on a path of crime, it was a defining role for Roy. And for final flourish, there was of course the iconic “mere paas maa hai” line.</p>.<p>It is not to say Sulochana didn’t have solid roles in her repertoire. Interestingly, two of her most splendid performances in this category also happen to be the most atypical ones as far as motherhood in Bollywood films are concerned. Bimal Roy’s ‘Sujata’ (1959) is a milestone movie in the actress’ career and among the first few ones where she switched to mom roles. Our cinema exalts motherhood and mothers symbolise virtues like kindness, selflessness, and integrity. But Sujata remarkably recognises that mothers can be prejudiced and flawed, and that motherly love isn’t always all-encompassing. </p>.<p>An important film of its time, Sujata is a commentary on the prevalent casteism in Indian society. An orphan girl from an untouchable caste is raised reluctantly by an upper caste couple alongside their biological daughter. Nutan plays the titular character and Sulochana essays the role of her adoptive mother Charu who constantly struggles with Sujata’s unwanted presence in their lives. Despite her devotion to the family, Sujata grows up never feeling wholly welcome and sensing an inequality in her and her sister’s upbringing. Charu’s own casteist views and the fear of social ostracisation overpowers the fleeting moments of concern and maternal affection she feels for Sujata. Sulochana handles this dichotomy in a most committed manner. The actress carefully utilises her amicable demeanour that turns cold and aloof in Sujata’s presence — never overt to warrant attention but sufficiently indicative of her disapproval.</p>.<p>Looking back, Sujata may appear simplistic in its approach towards the complexity of caste and be pointed out (even rightly so) for its upper caste gaze. What it depicts correctly is the horribly ignorant and prejudiced views that even the supposedly ‘well-meaning’ upper caste people can hold and how it permeates in their actions towards the marginalised. By sheltering Sujata, Charu feels they have done more than what a girl of her background deserves, conveniently overlooking the fact that no efforts were taken to get her educated or accomplished as their own daughter. Charu’s coldness causes Sujata, a headstrong and assertive girl fighting for her love, to grow up into a reticent young woman who has made peace with this unfairness.</p>.<p>For the predictability attached to the mother’s part in yesteryear movies, ‘Johny Mera Naam’ (1970) doesn’t seem very different in the beginning. Here Sulochana plays the widowed mother of two: Dev Anand, a cop and Pran, a smuggler — the latter got separated in boyhood. She yearns for her missing son and prays for his well being — a familiar sight in Bollywood films. The mother isn’t seen much in the rest of the film until its climax. The villain’s disgraced henchman has kidnapped her. He intends to expose ‘Johny’, her cop son operating undercover in their smuggling ring, and with whom he has a beef with — yet another familiar sight in Bollywood films. But the trope’s familiarity ends here for writer-director Vijay Anand takes the bechaari-maa-captive-in-villain’s-lair cliché and turns it on its head.</p>.<p>In the scene, the sly henchman lies to Johny’s mom that her son has apprehended the criminals and asks her to join her son. He’s confident that the old woman, distressed with relentless threats and torture, would take the bait and blow Johny’s cover. Terrified, she surveys the room, spots her son but then composes herself. In a startling fashion she then asks the henchman whom to identify in a hushed voice. The little stunt she has pulled maintains her son’s secret and further damages the henchman’s credibility. She goes on to tell the boss that his lackey had bribed her to identify Johny. The stupefied henchman realizes the woman has gloriously outsmarted him while his exasperated boss is confused about whom to believe. </p>.<p>A thrilling confrontation ensues with both parties trying to convince the boss of the other’s falsehood. The gifted filmmaker that he was, Vijay Anand turns this into a riveting sequence of drama, emotion and a heartwarming reunion which is elevated by the actors’ fabulous performances. Top of the table is Sulochana. This is her moment and she shines amidst a bunch of scene-stealing performers like Jeevan, Prem Nath, and Pran. As the sharp, quick-thinking, in-control mother who braves blows and intimidation, outsmarts the baddies, rescues one son and is reunited with the other, she is a triumph to watch.</p>.<p>The ease with which Sulochana enacts her part and the terrific chemistry she shares with her scene partners is a reminder of her skillfulness and yet how underused she remained. </p>