"Babumoshai, zindagi badi honi chahiye, lambi nahin!"

Rajesh Khanna – who left us on Wednesday, July 18, 2012 – was neither an actor nor a star. He was a phenomenon.Coined appropriately by the Stardust gang (where I was a visiting faculty) in the early 1970s, it superbly defined what he represented in that time. Looking back, one had to be around and experience the unbelievable impact he made on everyone, everywhere! Never before or since, has there such mass hysteria connected with a movie star as the one Rajesh triggered. It was a brand of craze normally associated with rock stars of the Elvis, Beatles and Michael Jackson variety. In his heydays – early 70s – it would have been a heavenly treat to be any one of his cars, because wherever they were parked, once identified, the vehicle was smothered with lipstick marks of every shade. Also, every single day, every single film studio in Mumbai had hordes of fans hanging around in the fervent hope and expectation that the phenomenon might – just might – emerge from one of them and give them darshan. Also, zillions of female fans regularly married his photograph.

His beginnings were modest. A theatre actor and, later, a Filmfare-sponsored candidate, the ordinary looking, short, pimply faced non-entity set nothing on fire with his first three starrers – Raaz, Aakhri Khat and Baharon Ke Sapne. It was the sleeper super-duper smash – where he played a double role – in Shakti Samanta’s Aradhana that sky-rocketed him overnight to a different stratosphere. Suddenly, every single hero – with the exception of "Garam" Dharam – took a huge hit and for the next few years he ruled as the undisputed King of Romance. With Shakti Samanta, Kishore Kumar and RD/LP, Kaka (with 17 consecutive hits; a Bollywood record) was truly the monarch of all he surveyed. As silver and golden jubilees whizzed past, romancing Sharmila and Mumtaz, he was perceived as Mr Box Office, all the way.

What was his secret that made him so unique?  Shashi Kapoor was killer in the looks department.  Joy, Biswajeet, Feroz, Sanjay, Jeetu, Manoj were all proven romantic material, so what made him so… different?  In 2012, it might be near impossible for youngistan to understand, but he transmitted a charm – innocent and romantic – that was mesmeric and universal, making him a true har-dil-azeez. Add to it, his stylised dialogue delivery (“Pushpa – I hate tears”), mannerisms, style of dancing, enchanting way of carrying songs, ability to emote (Anand, Safar, Namak Haram, Bawarchi, Amar Prem, Aap Ki Kasam, Aavishkar, Khamoshi) when called for…

Like a meteor, lyric poetry or the fabled Icarus, a phenomenon – by definition – is about short lived, tumultuous impact. What better way to remember India’s first superstar, the King of Romance, than going back to the fantastic lines he flamboyantly sang in Andaaz… Zindagi ek safar hai suhana, yahan kal kya ho kisne jana…