It's magical stuff

<div class="section1"><div class="Normal">No, I''m not going to bore you with oft-repeated cliches like ‘They don''t make movies like that any more''. But you know what? I''m tempted to do just that — repeat the cliche a hundred times over. More than 48 hours after seeing <span style="" font-style:="" italic="">Mughal-e-Azam </span>with a joyous crowd celebrating <span style="" font-style:="" italic="">Eid</span>, I''m still gooey and weak-kneed.Of course, the fake neon colours intruded certain scenes, and the theatrical presentation seemed comical and out-of-sync with movie-making today. But did I care? Did anyone in that packed auditorium care? No way! In that one evening, we were all transported to another era — another plane. And even a bag of buttered popcorn became a modern day intrusion, and somehow too "pop", too "American", for the magnum opus we were immersed in. I would''ve preferred a <span style="" font-style:="" italic="">phirni</span> with rose petals, or a delicately flavoured <span style="" font-style:="" italic="">falooda</span>. I looked at my own attire critically. What? No tinkling anklets? No jasmine in the hair? No <span style="" font-style:="" italic="">ittar</span> on my inner wrist? And jeans, for God''s sake! No gota-edged <span style="" font-style:="" italic="">odhni</span> and fitted <span style="" font-style:="" italic="">angarakhas </span>in chiffon? No embroidered velvet caps? No plumes? No kohl-lined eyes?<br /><br />People talk about the magic of the movies all the time. Well, baby, it doesn''t get any better than this. The film-maker does not miss a trick as he gets us to weep and smile and yearn, our minds and hearts totally captured and captivated by the unfolding drama on screen. I forgot everything — logic included. I was ready to forgive the glaring goof-ups, even the over-dramatic enactment during key scenes. Hamming? Honey, there was enough in there to start a pork factory! Despite all that, the great epic managed to touch and deeply affect my cynical heart.<br /><br />Since we''d dragged three daughters with us, I was prepared for the worst — sulks, protests, tantrums and snores. <br /><br />Mercifully, within the first ten minutes, I knew we were home and dry. This was the J.Lo generation responding with moist eyes and lumps in their throat to a soppy love story in which the closest the hero gets to his beloved is with a feather he uses to stroke her radiantly beautiful face. There are no words to describe the luminous, ethereal, glorious beauty of the legendary Madhubala; but Prince Salim''s feather strokes across her cupid bow mouth and lightly shut eyes, created an erotic fission that no amount if Beyonce''s booty-shaking can match.<br /><br />By the time we hit the interval, I knew my restless teenagers were riveted. They gasped, "Madhubala can send Madhuri, Aishwarya...all of them packing." Oh! true. But beyond Madhubala''s physical attributes, beyond the exaggerated delivery of unreal dialogue, what the film offers is an unmatched emotional high. I cannot think of too many movies from the recent past that satisfy such a basic need. After watching<span style="" font-style:="" italic=""> Mughal-e-Azam</span>, one comes away satiated. The same wonderful feeling one experiences after a satisfying, delicious repast.<br /><br />And to think the film was made years and years ago, against so many odds. Decades later, a multi-million dollar Hollywood blockbuster called <span style="" font-style:="" italic="">Troy </span>seems like a pale imitation, even in the lavishly shot battle scenes, which in <span style="" font-style:="" italic="">Mughal-e-Azam </span>are breathtaking and technically stunning. Oh yes, Brad Pitt can polish Dilip Kumar''s shoes! In place of digitally multiplied ships, soldiers and horses, <span style="" font-style:="" italic="">Mughal-e-Azam </span>offers the real thing, sans any techno intervention (besides the colour, of course). It makes one wonder about the future of movies. Clearly, there will always by an audience for a simple story, spectacularly told. The formula remains constant — boy-meets-girl, boy-loses-girl. And yet, long after the lights have come on, and your mundane life is back on track, the image of a statuesque classical beauty challenging and taunting an emperor with a song (<span style="" font-style:="" italic="">Pyar kiya to darna kya</span>), refuses to go away. If movie magic could be labelled, bottled and sold across a counter, I wouldn''t look beyond <span style="" font-style:="" italic="">Mughal-e-Azam.</span></div> </div>