I had always wanted to watch Anamika because of the songs I had heard from this movie. Not only am I a big fan of Kishore Kumar, but also of Lata Mangeshkar. I remembered both ‘Meri Bheegi Bheegi Si’ and ‘Bahon mein chale aao’ and would often sing them, both phenomenal, timeless pieces that will forever be remembered.
I once come across a video of Sanjeev Kumar and Jaya Bhaduri (now Bachchan) playfully capering through the words of Majrooh Sultanpuri, the lyricist of the ‘Bahon mein chale aao’. The song was composed to perfection by R D Burman and brought to life by the absolutely outrageous voice of Lataji. The video got me instantly hooked, and I wanted to know the story behind that playful, perky to-and-fro between the two actors. Sole reason I decided to delve into the film.
Anamika – a Riddle
Anamika is a beautiful story woven with such vivid imagination and equally well directed by Raghunath Jhalani, arguably his most renowned and greatest work. The writing involves the great minds of Shashi Bhushan, Madan Joshi and Surendra Prakash, who together ensure the audience is left in awe of their collaboration.
It’s a sinuous road, and you feel the story unfold gradually, as if there’s always a hidden climax just inches away. Every revelation feels like there’s more to the truth that’s unspoken of, and the character of Jaya Bhaduri, aptly named Anamika, remains the film’s central enigma. Everything revolves around her real identity. You could almost imagine the creators declaring:
“Anamika ek paheli jaisi hogi.“
Those were times when writers were celebrated for their craft, and you could tell that from Sanjeev Kumar’s character Devendra Dutt, a reminder of an era when royalties were legit and authors could depend on their writing as a primary source of income.
The Story of Anamika
The way the movie begins is quite ingenious, plunging straight into action, unlike many films of the past (or even today) that take their time introducing characters, building upon them, layering them with their actual nature based on environmental interactions. Here, a woman is flung off a car, and a self-proclaimed misogynist is forced to care for her well-being.
The audience is made to feel exactly what Devendra Dutt is going through. His reticence around taking any sort of responsibility, his ignorance about this woman’s past life, and his wanting to find out more about this nameless woman stem from his own gradually growing interest. It tells you why he was chosen as a character who is a writer. His curiosity unfolds the story further in the backdrop of the then bold and vibrant Mumbai, where cabaret dancers put on dramatic shows with impeccably orchestrated music. It carried the noir element of a thriller, although it fails to reach the genre.
The Comedy Bit
The movie also strives to entertain through comic relief, mostly via Asrani’s character—ever the dreamer who fantasizes about every woman he sees. His brand of perversion sees women beyond their profession, but Anamika doesn’t lean too heavily on him. Midway through, as the film’s tone becomes more serious, he quietly disappears.
Much of the humor arises from the chemistry between Jaya and Sanjeev. Their interactions are natural and charming, and both being exceptional actors, they keep the audience thoroughly entertained.
Devendra Dutt’s Internal Battles
The movie primarily remains a battle between the ideologies of a man trying to accept a woman who already has a fabled past, blemished by the stories he picks up along the way, and his inability to trust another woman into his life. His falling for a girl despite her obvious foibles and his acceptance of her very absence from his life make the movie interesting to watch.
The backstory, the actual truth, is revealed towards the end, from the very mouth of Anamika. Even when she narrates the whole thing, the exact sequence of events, you have to understand that even this story that she narrates could be an absolute sham, since she claims in the end that she had nothing to back it up.
As an audience, you generally tend to believe things based on the acting, and what is being fed to you, but you also have to see it through the eyes of a reader, or a writer, here from the perspective of Devendra. To him, it hardly mattered. Not only was he in love with her, but he also wanted it to be true. For him, her past would cease to matter, and it boils down to Devendra accepting it on his sheer instinct and belief despite his ruling himself out in the beginning as a misogynist.
The Final Stance
The movie ends abruptly, and you realise that’s how movies back then used to end, when they had nothing more to show. They preferred leaving things to the viewer’s imagination. The happy ending is supposed to be imagined by the viewers, and it would generally happen with the slaying of the villain, technically, when there are no real challenges left.
With the perished demon (both literal and figurative), they carry hope in a new belief, and this character, Anamika, finally finds her identity in the name that this author gives her.
Anamika remains a poetic blend of mystery, romance, and melody, a cinematic riddle that lingers long after it ends. It’s a reminder of how stories used to breathe back then, built not on spectacle but on intrigue, emotion, and the timeless power of music.
Where to Watch Anamika:
Anamika
