“Love to hatred turned …”

The title of this piece comes from a 17th century English play by William Congreve and the full quote reads —

“Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned,

Nor hell a fury, like a woman scorned.”

[Act III, The Mourning Bride]

Bollywood has given us the most rosy-tinted impression of the emotion of love. We have been led to believe that true love is always self-effacing, self-denying, generous to a fault, everlasting, unchanging, and all-consuming to the point of denying all other normal bodily functions (like hunger and sleep). Generations have consumed this diet of distortions and have been misled into a wrong notion of what love actually involves. Those of us who have loved and lived in real life may even have occasionally wondered if what we have experienced was the ‘real’ thing because our experiences have been rather different from the ‘reel’ life ones. We have known anger, jealousy, heartache and frustration in love; maybe even fury and a desire for vengeance when things have gone wrong. This is why love is so frightening — it can enrich life, but also poison it when the expected results do not come through.

According to the principles of Indian stagecraft, which prefer not to let the audience leave the theatre in a negative frame of mind, Bollywood cinema up to the 1990s usually contrives to unite the leading pair in bands of holy matrimony before the movie ends. However, before that end is achieved, occasionally, lyricists have attempted to show the seamier side of love. Anger, betrayal, even a desire for seeing the former beloved in misery and suffering are expressed. See, for instance, the lyrics of this song from Mr. X in Bombay (1964) —

मेरे महबूब क़यामत होगी

आज रुसवा तेरी गलियों में मोहब्बत होगी

मेरी नज़रें तो गिला करती हैं

तेरे दिल को भी सनम तुझसे शिकायत होगी

....

मेरी तरह तू आहें भरे

तू भी किसी से प्यार करे

और रहे वो तुझसे परे

तूने ओ सनम ढायें हैं सितम

तो ये तू भूल न जाना

के ना तुझपे भी इनायत होगी

आज रुसवा तेरी गलियों में मोहब्बत होगी

मेरे महबूब …

Although the quote from which the title of this piece is taken mentions that women scorned are like the Furies in their anger (in Greek mythology the Furies were horrible-faced goddesses who ensured that wrongdoers were punished), Bollywood leading ladies have usually been long-suffering and more inclined to be resigned to their pain and fate. It may be something to do with the disempowerment women feel in Indian society. Hopeless acceptance and an awareness of possessing no choice but to suffer in silence are amply expressed in this song from Anpadh (1962):

है इसी में प्यार की आबरू

वो ज़फ़ा करें मैं वफ़ा करूँ

जो वफ़ा भी काम न आ सके

तो वो ही कहें कि मैं क्या करूँ

मुझे ग़म भी उनका अज़ीज़ है

के उन्हीं की दी हुई चीज़ है

यही ग़म है अब मेरी ज़िंदगी

इसे कैसे दिल से जुदा करूँ

....

है इसी में प्यार की आबरू…

Sometimes there is an expression of bitterness that pretends to be generosity, as may be seen in this song from Amar (1954):

तमन्ना लुट गई फिर भी तेरे दम से मोहब्बत है मुबारक ग़ैर को खुशियाँ मुझे ग़म से मोहब्बत है ना मिलता ग़म तो बर्बादी के अफसाने कहाँ जाते अगर दुनिया चमन होती तो वीराने कहाँ जाते चलो अच्छा हुआ अपनों में कोई ग़ैर तो निकला अगर होते सभी अपने तो बेगाने कहाँ जाते

....

तुम्ही ने ग़म की दौलत दी बड़ा एहसान फ़रमाया ज़माने भर के आगे हाथ फैलाने कहाँ जाते

अगर दुनिया चमन होती तो वीराने कहाँ जाते…

There’s a desire to make the beloved feel ashamed of the way he has treated her, and of course there is a lot of self-pity. There also seems to be a consciousness of the presence of a sympathetic audience, which encourages the speaker/singer to voice her complaint more frankly and in words calculated to draw even more sympathy for her suffering.

On the other hand, the leading lady of Umrao Jaan (1981) shows an awareness of having learnt a painful, yet important, lesson. Unlike the song from Anpadh this is a more mature reaction to the pangs of unrequited love. The pain of loss is supplemented by the knowledge that had her situation (which was not of her choosing or making, and for which she had no means of redress) been different, she would have been happy in the possession of the man she loved.

जुस्तजू जिसकी थी उसको तो न पाया हमने

इस बहाने से मगर देख ली दुनिया हमने

तुझको रुसवा न किया ख़ुद भी पशेमाँ न हुये

इश्क़ की रस्म को इस तरह निभाया हमने

कब मिली थी कहाँ बिछड़ी थी हमें याद नहीं

ज़िंदगी तुझको तो बस ख़्वाब में देखा हमने

ऐ अदा और सुनाये भी तो क्या हाल अपना

उम्र का लम्बा सफ़र तय किया तनहा हमने

But she is aware that she has woken up to the ‘real’ world; there’s certainly pain, but there’s also a growing confidence that she will be able to go on, that life does not (and cannot) stop because of heartache.

Somehow the men do not show such maturity. Any patriarchal society privileges its men over the women and this may be the reason why the leading men of Bollywood find it so difficult to be jilted in love. The speaker/singer in Sangam is baffled when this happens to him:

दोस्त दोस्त ना रहा प्यार प्यार ना रहा

ज़िंदगी हमें तेरा ऐतबार ना रहा

अमानतें मैं प्यार की, गया था जिसको सौंप कर

वो मेरे दोस्त तुम ही थे तुम्हीं तो थे

जो ज़िंदगी की राह मे बने थे मेरे हमसफ़र

वो मेरे दोस्त तुम ही थे तुम्हीं तो थे

सारे भेद खुल गए राज़दार ना रहा

गले लगी सहम सहम भरे गले से बोलती

वो तुम ना थी तो कौन था तुम्हीं तो थी

सफ़र के वक़्त में पलक पे मोतियों को तौलती

वो तुम ना थी तो कौन था तुम्हीं तो थी

नशे की रात ढल गयी अब ख़ुमार ना रहा

वफ़ा का लेके नाम जो, धड़क रहे थे हर घड़ी

वो मेरे नेक नेक दिल, तुम्हीं तो हो

जो मुस्कुराते रह गए, ज़हर की जब सुई गड़ी

वो मेरे नेक नेक दिल, तुम्हीं तो हो

अब किसी का मेरे दिल इंतज़ार ना रहा

ज़िंदगी हमें तेरा ऐतबार ना रहा….

There are no demands of any kind made here, no expectations of a return to an earlier state of bliss expressed. There is complete acceptance, total resignation, and absolute disillusionment. Not only has the speaker/singer lost his beloved, he has also lost his best friend. The loss of either one could have been borne better if the other had been able to comfort the speaker/singer. The sense of betrayal of the two people closest to him now belonging to each other and leaving him outside, alone, is palpable and very effectively expressed.

While there is usually an attempt made to suffer in silence and thus pave the way for a future reconciliation, sometimes the natural anger breaks through and the broken heart cries out to express a desire for the same kind of suffering to be caused to the one responsible. The two songs that follow express this desire. The first is from Deewana (1952):

ओ तीर चलानेवाले

तीर खाते जाएंगे, आँसू बहाते जाएंगे

ज़िंदगी भर अपनी क़िस्मत आज़माते जाएंगे

तीर खाते जाएंगे, आँसू बहाते जाएंगे

....

बे-असर होते नहीं आँसू किसी नाकाम के

तुझको भी रोना पड़ेगा एक दिन दिल थाम के

दर्द बनके हम तेरे दिल में समाते जाएंगे

तीर खाते ...

This woman is slightly more vocal about her anger than the other women featured here. On the other hand, this song from Anamika (1973) expresses slightly different sentiments —

मेरी भीगी भीगी सी पलकों पे

रह गए जैसे मेरे सपने बिखर के

जले मन तेरा भी किसी के मिलन को

अनामिका तू भी तरसे

मेरी भीगी भीगी सी

....

आग से नाता नारी से रिश्ता काहे मन समझ ना पाया

मुझे क्या हुआ था एक बेवफ़ा पे हाय मुझे क्यों प्यार आया

तेरी बेवफ़ाई पे हँसे जग सारा

गली गली गुज़रे जिधर से

जले मन तेरा भी किसी के मिलन को

अनामिका तू भी तरसे

मेरी भीगी भीगी सी….

One finds that the anger here is more intense. The feeling of having been taken for a fool and make a laughing stock of makes the song end on an unforgiving note. The consciousness of having done nothing to deserve such treatment adds bitterness to a justifiable anger. He wishes for his former beloved to be punished but his desire for ‘justice’ is to be left to time and heaven. Likewise the song from Dewar (1966) shows suppressed anger beneath a veneer of puzzlement and confusion. The man who has been treated wrongly does not understand why things went so wrong. Whatever the reason, however, his anger demands justice and he appeals to heaven to be his witness and arbiter. Interestingly, some of the blame for his current misery is also apportioned to heaven/God and this is used as a justification for the demand for justice.

बहारों ने मेरा चमन लूटकर

खिज़ां को ये इल्ज़ाम क्यों दे दिया

किसीने चलो दुश्मनी की मगर

इसे दोस्ती नाम क्यों दे दिया

बहारों ने मेरा ...

मैं समझा नहीं ऐ मेरे हमनशीं

सज़ा ये मिली है मुझे किस लिये

के साक़ी ने लब से मेरे छीन कर

किसी और को जाम क्यों दे दिया

....

खुदाया यहाँ तेरे इन्साफ़ के

बहुत मैंने चर्चे सुने हैं मगर

सज़ा की जगह एक खतावार को

भला तूने ईनाम क्यों दे दिया

बहारों ने मेरा चमन लूटकर ….

While the hero of Dewar is angry, he is willing to wait for heaven to make amends. But the hero of Dil Diya Dard Liya (1966) is not willing to wait for the karmic balance to be redressed by the universe. Rather, he wants to ensure that revenge is definitely meted out and he means to help matters along by playing an active role himself.

गुज़रे हैं आज इश्क़ में हम उस मक़ाम से

नफ़रत सी हो गई है मुहब्बत के नाम से

....

ओ बेवफ़ा तेरा भी यूँ ही टूट जाए दिल

तू भी तड़प-तड़प के पुकारे हाय दिल

तेरा भी सामना हो कभी ग़म की शाम से

हम वो नहीं जो प्यार में रोकर गुज़ार दें

परछाईं भी हो तेरी तो ठोकर से मार दें

वाक़िफ़ हैं हम भी ख़ूब हर एक इंतक़ाम से

गुज़रे हैं आज इश्क़ में….

The audience may have found it possible to accept such a radical stance only because the hero has been shown to have been temporarily blinded by his anger and hurt. He is, after all, modelled on Heathcliff, the protagonist of Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights. While Heathcliff never gives up his desire for vengeance, Shankar (the hero of Dil Diya Dard Liya) cools down enough to access his naturally generous nature and all, finally, ends well.

Yet, even this active seeking out of revenge may seem moderation itself as compared to the astounding amount of spite and curses that appear in this next song from Aaye Din Bahar Ke (1966):

मेरे दिल से सितमगर तूने अच्छी दिल्लगी की है

के बनके दोस्त अपने दोस्तों से दुश्मनी की है

मेरे दुश्मन तू मेरी दोस्ती को तरसे

मुझे ग़म देने वाले तू खुशी को तरसे

तू फूल बने पतझड़ का, तुझ पे बहार न आए कभी

मेरी ही तरह तू तड़पे तुझको क़रार न आए कभी

जिये तू इस तरह की ज़िंदगी को तरसे

इतना तो असर कर जाएं मेरी वफ़ाएं ओ बेवफ़ा

जब तुझे याद आएं अपनी जफ़ाएं ओ बेवफ़ा

पशेमाँ होके रोए, तू हंसी को तरसे

तेरे गुलशन से ज़्यादा वीरान कोई वीराना न हो

इस दुनिया में तेरा अपना तो क्या, बेगाना न हो

किसी का प्यार क्या तू बेरुख़ी को तरसे

मेरे दुश्मन तू मेरी दोस्ती को तरसे….

While it may be understandable that the broken heart cries out for a settling of scores, this song is rather startling and disturbing in its toxicity. Not only does the hero wish his tormentor to suffer, he seems determined to completely demolish her. And yet, his honest wishes for her utter annihilation seem better than the false generosity expressed in this next song from Purab Aur Paschim (1970):

कोई जब तुम्हारा हृदय तोड़ दे

तड़पता हुआ जब कोई छोड़ दे

तब तुम मेरे पास आना प्रिये

मेरा दर खुला है खुला ही रहेगा

तुम्हारे लिये, कोई जब ...

अभी तुमको मेरी ज़रूरत नहीं

बहुत चाहने वाले मिल जाएंगे

अभी रूप का एक सागर हो तुम

कंवल जितने चाहोगी खिल जाएंगे

दरपन तुम्हें जब डराने लगे

जवानी भी दामन छुड़ाने लगे

तब तुम मेरे पास आना प्रिये

मेरा सर झुका है झुका ही रहेग

तुम्हारे लिये ...

कोई शर्त होती नहीं प्यार में

मगर प्यार शर्तों पे तुमने किया

नज़र में सितारे जो चमके ज़रा

बुझाने लगीं आरती का दिया

जब अपनी नज़र में ही गिरने लगो

अंधेरों में अपने ही घिरने लगो

तब तुम मेरे पास आना प्रिये

ये दीपक जला है जला ही रहेग

तुम्हारे लिये...

How generous the sentiments expressed seem at first! The speaker/singer seems to expect nothing and even promises to remain loyal to his love. Moreover, he will also welcome her back with open arms when she faces rejection elsewhere. Considering the fact that our culture expects women’s virtue and character to be above reproach, such a position seems excessively largehearted. But is it really? Consider the mukhda: the speaker/singer uses the word ‘जब’, not ‘अगर’. Now reread the mukhda. What he seems to be saying is ‘come back when someone breaks your heart’, not ‘if someone breaks your heart’. Using ‘जब’ implies the speaker’s certainty of her being rejected; all he needs to do is to wait for her to suffer heartbreak herself. When that happens he will take her back. Also, he very helpfully enlists the probable reasons for her impending rejection. Rather than an expression of generosity this is probably an expression of the nastiest sentiments — anger, jealousy, and a desire to see the beloved suffer while himself occupying the moral high ground and also delighting in the expectation of her ultimate loss of face. He seems to think it a foregone conclusion that her nature will lead to her failure in love, and he will be watching (and waiting) for that to happen. When it happens, he will be ready with his ‘generosity’. (I am indebted to my ‘Bitter Half’ for pointing out the intricacies of this gem.)

So, the expressions of frustrated love are myriad as expressed in Bollywood. Some, of course, are more frustrated (and, therefore, more human) than others.