30 years of Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikandar: Revisiting mainstream Hindi cinema's 'first coming-of-age' film

We are living in times when our idea of a Hindi film protagonist is under constant scrutiny. There are more and more conversations around glorification of problematic characters, and normalisation of ideological stances that we don’t expect from a ‘Hero’ figure. It’s because, for decades, Hindi films have loyally stuck to the conceit of projecting their protagonists as ‘Heroes’ and ‘Heroines’ as these paragons of virtues, ignoring their minor issues as long as they were accomplished or talented in some way.   Mansoor Khan’s Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikandar, which completes 30 years this year, turned this idea on its head. Here, our protagonist Sanjay Lal (Aamir Khan) doesn’t fit that mould in the least. Sanjay, or Sanju as he is fondly called by everyone around, is a unique protagonist in a way that he has none of the qualities we look for in a Hero. There is not one right thing we see him doing right - He smokes in college assemblies, he flunks his exams and then hides the mark sheet from his father. Sanjay and Anjali (Ayesha Jhulka) are great friends, but there is no doubt Sanjay exploits Anjali’s warmth and benevolence too. At one point, he also steals from his father to buy an expensive present for his beau. Unlike his brother Ratan (Mamik), Sanju has no interest in sports either. (We do see him fiddling with a guitar, but it doesn’t seem he has any flair for it.) We rarely see Sanjay do anything good, except his impish attempts to unite two introverted lovebirds that are his brother and Kalpana (Anjali Zaveri). To his credit, Mansoor Khan largely stays on the fence about him, oscillating between sympathy and condemnation for his misdeeds, never coming close to glorifying his recklessness. Such a character provides the perfect turf for a coming-of-age theme, and Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikandar was possibly our first mainstream attempt to tell a true-blue coming-of-age story. In the 80s, there were young films like Arjun, Zara Si Zindagi, or Saaheb, with underdog protagonists who were sincere in their pursuits but suppressed by the society around them. Hindi films were good at transformation stories though, which are not the same as coming-of-age stories. I can think of Junglee where the stern, rigid hero transforms into an uninhibited rebellious lover, or Maine Pyar Kiya where Prem (Salman Khan) temporarily metamorphs from a rich spoilt brat to a hard-working labourer. However, even these transformations arrived mostly through love, and remained in that realm. While the 80s also saw some successful young-and-rebellious romances like Ek Duje Ke Liye, Love Story, and Qayamat se Qayamat Tak, they rarely explored these characters in other spaces, ending a film when the lovers unite - in life or death. There were only a handful of films earlier which could be classified as “coming of age” like Guddi, Kitaab, and Vijeta, all of which largely fell outside the realms of mainstream template ( Guddi being the closest to the mainstream template).  

But it’s not about Sanjay’s growing up and redemption alone - what makes Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikandar so original for its times is how it captured the entire phase of youth and adolescence in an authentic, relatable manner.

For starters, the film had a consistently young-looking cast (though some of them admittedly not so young to pass off as Junior college students) - it was a huge leap from the times when stars in their mid-30s would play college pass-outs. The visual and aural aesthetic was refreshing - besides being a rare sports film, what set apart Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikandar is the adrenaline rush it carried through its choice of sport - every cycling race sequence is shot exquisitely and holds great narrative tension. Characters behaved and spoke in a language that felt closer to life, often interspersing their lingo with Hinglish and colloquial vocabulary.  

But more importantly, Mansoor khan captured the emotional truth and the aspirations of a young carefree universe. There might be sports and competitions at the center stage here, but it’s also a story about who these people are off the field.  There is a permeating air of sexual curiosity that pretty much drives everything at that age - especially visible in the desperation of carefree lads from Models College to feel like a grown-up, by flirting with girls beyond their league, smoking cigarettes because it makes them look cool. The diligent and driven athletes from elite colleges are not without their share of relatable indulgences either, frequently going out clubbing to flirt with girls, and flaunt to others their sexual conquests. The tussle also continues at Mall Road, a town-square kinda set-up where these hot-blooded rivals cross paths at cafes and ice-cream joints, often resulting in brawls and fights. The strains of their class-conflict is most palpable over here, where serving as the Goliath to Sanjay’s David is local sports champion Shekhar Malhotra (Deepak Tijori). Shekhar is a rich and arrogant (albeit talented) brat, often taking advantage of his popularity with the girls - and Sanjay, just like his friends Ghanshu (Deven Bhojani) and Maqsood (Aditya Lakhia) aspires to reach that level. Even Sanjay’s attraction towards Devika (Pooja Bedi) stems more out of his aspiration for upward mobility and crossing over to the other side of privilege - we are never sure if he is emotionally invested in her (even though it serves as the ground for ‘Pehla Nasha’, the most swoon-worthy love song of our times). This leaves Sanjay no better than Shekhar - and yet the narrative keeps him in the driver’s seat even as his moral choices remain dicey.   [caption id=“attachment_10292281” align=“alignnone” width=“640”] Pooja Bedi and Aamir Khan in Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikandar[/caption] Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikandar sustains close to two hours with an unwavering emotional arc for Sanjay. As the tension around him about the nearing inter-college competition escalates, Sanjay looks least bothered by it, rather busy chasing affections of the unattainable Devika. It’s a long, long wait before we finally have the moment that changes Sanjay’s perspective towards life, and he becomes the hero figure we have been rooting for and readies himself for the decisive race in a matter of weeks. The leap is rather dramatic yet feels completely justified - all it takes is a moment when Sanjay suddenly fears what would it be like, to not have his elder brother Ratan around.  

Accomplished, grounded, and obedient to his father - Ratan (Mamik) is a character we usually see in the protagonist’s place, but here he plays the strong yet gentle supportive figure in the background of Sanjay’s bratty rebellion, while also dealing with his nerve-wracking fears of not living upto his father’s expectations. After Doctor informs the family about Ratan’s critical condition, Sanjay weepingly confides into Anjali, worrying about his father for whom Ratan was the only ray of hope - this is when Anjali reminds him that Sanjay too is equally important to his father, equally a son of the house. Sanjay had been so used to cheering from the sidelines and feeling like an outsider, he had forgotten he too was family.   At this moment, we slowly fade into an idyllic slice from their childhood. The two brothers are strolling at an abandoned fort. It’s a quiet serene air of bonding, with no adult around to reprimand them. Sanjay throws a stone in the pond, low-key marvelling at how the water ricocheted. As Sanjay smiles to himself and turns, his brother isn’t there. Sanjay is now scared, frantically looking for Ratan, running around that desolate location and navigating its zigzaggy rocks all by himself - when Ratan suddenly springs up from behind, laughing at him. Sanjay angrily keeps throwing blows at him before he embraces him in a possessive hug.  We then cut back to present, to Sanjay longingly looking at Ratan in ICU fighting for his life, and the song ‘Rooth Ke Humse’ quietly walks in.   Mansoor Khan’s genius lies in how he precedes ‘Rooth Ke Humse’ with this brief tranquil sequence that the song builds upon, carrying our hands as Sanjay looks back at more moments from their younger times together, moments of warmth and conflict, moments he could have avoided, moments he wants to hang on to. ‘Pehla Nasha’ is undoubtedly the watershed musical sequence of its era, but for me it is ‘Rooth Ke Humse’ that lends heart to the most crucial sequence of the film, and a great example of Mansoor Khan’s prowess at economical story-telling while keeping the emotional core of his story intact - rather amusing for a filmmaker who barely saw any films growing up, and had no Hindi film ambitions at first. But then, that’s what makes Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikander such a compelling piece of Hindi cinema - even in its most familiar ‘Bollywood’ moments, it carried the sensibilities of an outsider. Very few people know that Mansoor Khan wanted ‘Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikander’ to be his first film - it was a concept closer to his heart, something he had began writing on his own, long before Qayamat se Qayamat Tak was being conceived. This makes great poetic sense, for in some way Mansoor Khan himself turned out to be that outlier underdog of Hindi cinema who infuse a new energy into mainstream Hindi Cinema, before against disappearing into the oblivion.   BH Harsh is a film critic who spends most of his time watching movies and making notes, hoping to create, as Peggy Olsen put it, something of lasting value. Read all the  Latest News ,  Trending News ,  Cricket News ,  Bollywood News ,  India News  and  Entertainment News  here. Follow us on  Facebook,  Twitter and  Instagram.