It was 1982, and I waited all evening at Jumbo Video Centre in Kuwaiti Building in Bahrain to get my hands on a copy of Shakti on VHS. I was in class VIII that year, still realising the depth and breadth of Hindi cinema, and commercial films with large stair casts were my regular beckoning. Shakti was one of the most anticipated films of the year, billed "The Clash of The Titans", and I had huge hopes of entertainment pinned on it. After having waited until 10 pm that night, the much coveted video cassette was handed over to me by Rajesh, the owner of the parlour, and I remember running home all of the over a kilometer distance in excitement, my parents also waiting to watch the epic.
Epic it was by all standards. Produced by Mushir-Riaz and directed by Ramesh Sippy, it opened to a scene straight out of Sholay's opening scene, a train stopping at a deserted platform and a young man stepping out, none other than Anil Kapoor, recently having debuted with Woh 7 Din. Then came thespian Dilip Kunar and Smita Patil, the only other survivors of the family, and Shakti began its narrative on a truly sombre note. As the flashback played out for the rest of the film, the story gathered pace, and how! As it starts out telling the tale of a childhood kidnapping of Vijay, the only son to Ashwini Kumar (the pivotal character played by Dilip Kumar, you almost thought that this is going to be another potboiler, urging yourself lower the expectations.
But Shakti was meant to belong to a different class of filmmaking. As the father-son conflict started spawning, Amitabh Bachchan made his grand entry as the brooding, intense anti-hero, torn between the love for his mother and the dislike for his father's diehard principles. Oh the clash of the titans it undisputedly was, a simmering, smouldering conflict that rose to dizzying heights, leaving the viewers drooling over the prospects of a crescendo at the climax. Rakhee Gulzar's Sheetal and Smita Patil's Roma were the soothing balm of the dazzling war of histrionics of the two superstars, one from the past and another reigning the present.
Everything was prim and proper. The music by R.D. Burman turned the melancholy strains of the story into melody, that's today considered classic. The episodes where Ashwini and Vijay came together on the screen were dramatically underplayed by the director, allowing the two of them to act out their hearts - and a battle royal it was. I know who won the trophy on this occasion, the winner was loud and clear, albeit in an intense silence and a well nuanced, controlled dialogue delivery and body language, but allow me to be politically correct by stating both Dilip Kumar and Amitabh Bachchan held their fort and gave their best. The viewers were the winners, rarely had we seen anything as good in commercial cinema since Deewar. Every moment was Shakti was worth its weight in gold. The imax was predictable as it had been defined right at the start, but a tearjerker it was in the end, sounding off the end to the legendary clash and it did deliver the crescendo it promised.
Shakti turned 38 this year and I read with utter horror yesterday that there's a plan to remake it. Pray tell me it isn't a sacrilege to reinvent the wheel and try to improve upon perfection? Who can step into the shoes of and stand in for Dilip Kumar and Amitabh Bachchan? Why take away our simple pleasure of watching replay of Shakti with all its bells and whistles in original? What justice do you think this remake will mete out? I have watched Shakti over 40 times and can see it another forty times as it remains one of the best films of my lifetime and it should be preserved for its worth, not dabbled with for the purposes of experimentation or commercial benefits. Please allow Shakti to retain its place in our hearts and minds.
