Rajesh Khanna's recent Havells Fans commercial left me with mixed feelings.

Here was the man who had a complete generation of the early 1970s under his inimitable spell. It was difficult relating to the older, and distinctly wearier, stranger on television. To some of us, it would have been nicer not to be reminded of the grim realities of ageing, especially when it involved someone like Rajesh Khanna.

Why this state of denial, I later asked myself. The answer came in loud and clear when I was watching Sachaa Jhutha on a lazy Sunday afternoon. Khanna plays a double role of a goody-goody country bumpkin and sophisticated thief in this madcap Manmohan Desai entertainer. What was more important, though, was that Sachaa Jhutha brought back memories of Durgapur in West Bengal where I had spent the first decade of my childhood.

Films went hand-in-hand with our lives in this quiet steel township through the '60 and early ‘70s. Chitralaya and Anuradha were the only two movie-halls which screened the latest Hindi (and the occasional English) releases. And it was here that Khanna became an integral part of our growing up years.

Right from Aradhana , Safar and Chhoti Bahu to Anand , Haathi Mere Saathi and Andaz , he weaved his magic around us. I would stay glued to the screen with my Coca-Cola bottle, as did many of my St Xavier school buddies on similar family outings. We were way too young, of course, to appreciate the finer aspects of cinema but could relate effortlessly to Rajesh Khanna!

At home, my dad would constantly be humming Achcha To Hum Chalte Hain from Aan Milo Sajna while Binaca Geet Mala ensured it had Bindiya Chamkegi ( Do Raaste ) and Zindagi Ek Safar Hai Suhana ( Andaz ) playing on our radio in the evenings.

We moved out of Durgapur in early '72 and this was the beginning of a new phase of life in (the then) Madras. There were the typical adjustment challenges for a 10-year-old in making friends in school and getting used to a big city. The frequency of watching films also reduced though we managed Amar Prem and Bawarchi in the early days of Madras.

I would borrow Screen , the film weekly, from our neighbour to read the latest on Hindi cinema. It was also the period when Sholay hit the screens in '75, marking an end to the heady Khanna era.

In later years, as I reconnected with his films from an adult's perspective, it was obvious that his superstardom days beginning from Aradhana were special to me because they ignited memories of my childhood. Of those incredible days in Durgapur when reading Enid Blytons and Phantom comics was enough to assure unlimited joy.

Yet, the Rajesh Khanna of the post-superstar days gave memorable films like Chakravyuha , Anurodh and Palkon Ki Chhaon Mein . My favourites continue to be Do Raaste , Safar (whose grim reality I prefer to the near ideal theme of Anand ), Daag , Namak Haram , Aavishkar and Aap Ki Kasam .

Today's generation may not quite appreciate (and understandably so) the magic of Khanna in that heady phase where he was the monarch of all he surveyed. That's why I am not entirely sure if the Havells commercial will create any emotional connect with most of them.

It left me feeling quite sad to see how he had aged over the years but, hey, isn't that true for all of us too? Rajesh Khanna continues to be special for people like me who cherish those fabulous childhood years.

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