

Having said that, can one also apply the same treatment to other Lata Mangeshkar solos previously blacklisted for misogynistic undertones in one of your previous posts, such as Hum Tere Pyar Main Saara Alam from Dil Ek Mandir (1963) as well as the ghazal Aap Ki Nazron Ne Samjha from Anpadh (1962)? Personally, I feel that the use of phrases such as mere mandir, meri pooja, devta, saara alam or bandaparvar are, although outwardly hyperbolic and, when sung by a female singer/picturised on a female character, may reek of excessive subservience to the opposite gender, instead function (for me) as expressions of the deepest, most subliminal love, which I find beautiful. In other words it is one of those filmi songs that rely on the film’s plot for context, which unfortunately places it at a disadvantage when listened to by those who do not know what the film is about. What else can I say, except that you have so succinctly articulated my very thoughts on this evergreen song! Granted, it sounds like haplessly slavish fawning that can be horribly sexist when one listens to it merely as a song rather than as a component of the very film in which it is featured. Mandir: temple puujaa: prayer devtaa: God gum: lost muskuraanaa: to smile khafaa: angry bindiyaa: decorative mark worn in middle of forehead by Indian women jhilmil: sparkle gajraa: flower garland manzil: destination maaTii: clay guDiyaa: doll praaN: life aatmaa: soul sulaanaa: to put to sleep pavan: breeze, wind sargam: melody, tune lorii: lullaby farishtaa: angel. When I look at you, I feel that I am watching Tumhe.n dekh kar yeh khayaal aa rahaa hai The wind carries a tune, while I sing you a lullaby. Pavan chheDe sargam, mai.n lorii sunaa duu.n, mmmm…. It is late in the night come, let me put you to sleep. Mai.n huu.n ik chhotii-sii maaTii kii guDiyaaīahut raat biitii chalo mai.n sulaaa duu.n

You are the destination of the flower garlands in my hands.

Tum hii mere haatho.n ke gajaro.n kii manzil You are the sparkle of the bindi on my forehead. Tum hii mere maathe kii bindiyaa kii jhilmil Or else I will think that you are angry with me. Nahii.n to mai.n samjhuungii mujh se khafaa ho Na jaane magar kin khayaalo.n me.n gum hoīut I do not know what thoughts you are lost in. Jidhar dekhtii huu.n, udhar tum hii tum ho If someone were to see through my eyes, they would understand Tum hii mere mandir, tum hii merii puujaa Nutan comforts her husband Sunil Dutt with this iconic love song in Khandaan (1965) Tum Hi Mere Mandir: Lyrics and English Translation I mean, it can’t just be my heart that skips a beat as Lata begins to hum that lullaby in the third stanza? -Mr. Ravi won Best Music Director, Rajendra Krishan won Best Lyricist, and Lata Mangeshkar received a well-deserved Best Singer award (her third of four total). This iconic song took home some of the big prizes at the Filmfare Awards Ceremony of 1966. The lyrics of “Tum Hi Mere Mandir” take on a more egalitarian meaning in this context: instead of espousing blind subservience, marital love is portrayed as a divine commitment that should not be weakened by judging our partners for their flaws and imperfections. To strengthen his spirit, the ever-graceful Nutan comforts him with a serenade of this lilting gem.

In this film, Sunil Dutt plays a man with special needs who feels that he is not a worthy partner to his wife. However, appreciating these lyrics in the context of the story depicted in Khandaan adds a bit of tempering nuance. Viewed with modern eyes, Rajendra Krishan’s words can certainly be construed as misogynstic and downright cringeworthy. I do, however, love this song for Ravi’s delicately crafted tune that has been rendered to perfection by Lata Mangeshkar in her all-time prime. Let me be clear: I do not support the misogynistic undertones of husband-worshipping expressed in this song. In light of the ongoing #MeToo movement that has now made its way to the echelons of Bollywood elite, perhaps this song was not the most timely choice. Today, we present the lyrics and English translation to “ Tum Hi Mere Mandir” from Khandaan (1965). Nutan embodies the essence of an archetypal pativrata wife in Khandaan (1965)
