The thing about cuisines and movies is that what’s palatable to me could be despicable to others.

As a Gen Xer, I’ve loved art movies such as Paar, Aurat, Chakra and the likes but I’ve equally savoured the masala entertainers served up by Prakash Mehra, Manmohan Desai, and Subhash Ghai! Yet, one film that ranks among my all-time favourites just turned 50 this August 15.

While Naseeruddin Shah may have his reservations about whether Sholay, the Salim-Javed blockbuster, qualifies as a “great” film, it hardly matters. To each their own. After all, if Shah could deliver Tirchi Topiwale in Tridev with complete conviction and still lament the death of cinema, it only proves how unpredictable and personal taste really is!

It’s fascinating how a film that didn’t begin with the blueprint of a mega-blockbuster ended up becoming a generational cult phenomenon. But for many in Gen Y and Z, Sholay resonates more as meme material than as a cinematic milestone.

Sanjeev Kumar, counted among Hindi cinema’s most versatile actors, is now often remembered less for his craft and more as the helpless, amputee Thakur, a character relentlessly memeified. Hema Malini’s chirpy Basanti, once a crowd favourite, might even induce cringes today with her exaggerated delivery and dated charm. The legendary dialogues, “Kitne aadmi the?” and “Ab tera kya hoga Kaliya?” once seared into public memory, have been dulled by their overuse in radio jingles, commercials, and comedy sketches.

Somewhere along the way, the nostalgia of Sholay turned into parody. But for some of us, it remains a reminder of a time when cinema stirred something deeper, long before it became just another scrollable staple.

Against this backdrop, it was fascinating to watch Javed Akhtar and director Ramesh Sippy come together on stage for a moderated discussion, celebrating the momentous 50 years of Sholay at an event recently hosted by Standard Chartered Bank in Mumbai.

What follows are edited excerpts from their conversation, capturing the essence of how Sholay earned its place as a cult classic.

Q: What was your creative vision for this project and how did you balance all of these elements that stay true even today—screenplay, dialogue, visual aesthetics, music? How does one do that?

Ramesh Sippy: I think... well, a two-line idea was narrated by Salim-Javed, which my father and I both approved of. And so, we embarked on the journey called Sholay. For me, the visuals, the sound, the picture of big cinema was very much in my head.

The very first round was enthralling. And, as a matter of fact, when we sat on it... and then one day, Salim-Javed came up with this concept of Gabbar [Singh]—what his lines would be… and as he spoke, it excited me. It was something I never imagined that a first-time actor would steal the audience’s heart.

In fact, a TV commercial came out around that time where Gabbar held a pack of glucose biscuits in his hand. I never understood the connection the pack of biscuits had with Gabbar, or Gabbar with kids. But more than the character in the film, they identified with him. The way he spoke, the way the lines were… they just got so fascinated. And everybody wanted to play Gabbar on the streets.

That’s how it all happened.

So, there are lines that the audience will mouth word for word 50 years later. [The interviewer asked the crowd to speak some lines, to which a chorus reply came “Kitne aadmi the?” to which Akhtar replied cheekily, “Abhi toh do hi hai,” referring to himself and Sippy.]

Akhtar: So, let me start from the very beginning. A very good place to start. As I say, fortunately, Sholay was never planned to be a big film. You see, what happens generally is, when we say we want to make a magnum opus, in doing so, you end up making a disaster on screen.

What we had with us was a script, complete with commas, and full stops.

So, we had a meeting with Ramesh Sippy and his father [G.P. Sippy] and others. We read out the entire script and one or two dialogues from the movie. Ramesh and G.P. Sippy were unanimous that the script was good. But when we started developing the screenplay, somewhere at one stage, we realised that the way we were developing the characters, it could be a multi-starrer film. It was not planned to be one. We did not think this was going to be such a big film. We had no idea. So, it was not artificially built, it just found a life of its own.

G.P. Sippy was not just a producer who would give money. He had opinions and very clear-ones. Like, he said, “I don’t want a traditional-looking dacoit. He has to be a bit modern.” That’s when he decided the villain would wear something like an army green attire. But we felt that if the character looks different, he should speak differently too.

We had a movie Mexican Bandit in mind. I asked Rameshji to speak like the character in that movie. And I found that lack of rhythm interesting because there is a certain kind of unpredictability in the conversation or speech of the Mexican bandit. One line will be very long, spoken softly, and the very next he would suddenly be loud, not to mention the pronunciation. And that’s when I decided the character of Gabbar, too, should have a certain dialect which was Awadhi [from Uttar Pradesh], punctuated with a lack of rhythm.

When writing the dialogue of Gabbar, it seemed Gabbar had come alive on the paper. I was discovering a vocabulary that I did not know consciously.

What’s interesting is that when I narrated the dialogues to both Sanjeev Kumar and Amitabh Bachchan, both of them wanted to play the character of Gabbar Singh.

Sippy: It’s true!

Akhtar: Both had heard the script and dialogues independently, and not together. Such was the power of the character [Gabbar Singh].

Sippy: By the way, Dharmendra too was impressed by Gabbar. But we told him, "Phir aapko Hema Malini nahin milegi." [Crowd erupts in laughter]

Akhtar: We have been extremely fortunate. We didn’t just get an excellent, superb director but also a great producer. Those days, pictures were made on tight budgets. The top film would get made for Rs 20–22 lakh, at best Rs 25 lakh. But for this movie, all the rules of economics were broken. People felt G.P. Sippy had lost his mind.

It was a complete industry that came together in the making of the movie: people making gadgets, people making roads, people making bridges [including the one that gets blown up in the climax when Bachchan dies], right down to the horseshoe!

Not just that. It was also decided that the movie would be made in 70 mm and with stereophonic recording. It was not a financial expediency at all. It was almost suicidal! So much so that industry people questioned: at what price would the movie get sold? Will it get sold at 25 lakh per territory when that’s the budget for an entire movie?

But we were lucky to have a producer and director who believed in the craft. Hats off to Ramesh Sippy and G.P. Sippy!

In fact, there is a scene where Sanjeev Kumar comes back to see his entire family slain and wrapped in white cloth. That scene took 21 days to shoot. Why? Because the director had decided that it would only be shot when clouds were present and the entire atmosphere looked grey.

At the end of the day, movies are similar to children. After a certain point, they’re no longer yours but have a life of their own. Today, the people sitting on this stage have as much claim on Sholay as the audience does.

But the true win of Sholay is that every character, no matter how long they appear on screen, is a friend of ours. Yes, today, we are friends with each of them. How does one make sure that everyone is that memorable?

Sippy: There is no formula for that. It just happens. You make the right choices. The right actors come and play the role, and everything falls into place. It’s not that you don’t want it to be like that, but your desire is helped by the fact that it does happen.

Getting Asrani to play that role, though a small one. Actually, Danny Denzongpa was to play the role of Gabbar. But he was in Afghanistan, shooting for Dharmatma. We couldn’t wait. Salim-Javed brought in Amjad Khan, saying, “He’s the son of Jayant [Zakaria Khan].”

Akhtar: I must give you some details on this, which is very interesting.

In 1963, when I was in college, I was sent from my university for the Youth Festival at Talkatora Gardens in Delhi. Those days, troupes of students from universities used to come for the fest, which would be held for 10 days. I had gone from my university to take part in debate and discussion.

At the festival, there was a drama sent from Mumbai University called Aye Mere Watan Ke Logon. In that play, Amjad Khan had played the main character of a Sardar army officer. He was brilliant.

In 1964, I came to Mumbai. In 1965, I met Salim. From the 1970s, we began working with Sippy Films. But even after so many years I used to occasionally say that “Jayant’s younger son is a very good actor.”

But the interesting part is that during the course of making the film, I had completely forgotten about Amjad, until Salim recalled his name. He said, “You kept praising the guy, why don’t you get him?” Premnath and Pran were out of the question, as they were very busy actors. We needed someone whose dates would be available.

At Sathe House in Khar, where our small office was located, Amjad did a screen test and he got selected.

That’s how things happen. It’s all providence. Had I not gone to the Youth Festival, I would never have seen Amjad. Just imagine if Salim hadn’t reminded me of his name, or if Danny had given us his dates. Life is unpredictable and random. Sholay is a perfect example of that.

A few words on the music by R.D. Burman

Sippy: Had there been no Pancham [popular name for R.D. Burman], there would have been no Sholay. Not only did he give us lovely songs, but his background score was absolutely mind-blowing. The very title track takes you into another world. I think he was at his best by then. That peculiar sound that plays when Gabbar comes on screen, it gives you the creeps, literally.

I do remember when Amjad started doing the shots, everyone had grave doubts about whether he would actually be able to pull it off. But I decided to rehearse with him, because Javed had said something very nice that the character should be able to... you know, when Gabbar rubs tobacco in his palm and spits, that entire action should feel natural. Amjad wasn’t used to it. What used to happen that he would either say the lines, or end up just rubbing tobacco into his palm! It’s not his fault. But it took two solid days of rehearsals, and then he got it. It was so, so satisfying.

Once he nailed it, we started shooting and the rest is history.

Akhtar: In fact, Sholay is the only movie whose dialogue cassettes outsold the music tapes.

Sippy: That’s so very true.

Akhtar: Yet, I have to admit that the dialogues of Sholay have become a permanent source of embarrassment for me. So many people meet me and say, “Sir, only you could have written the dialogue “Kitne aadmi theh”-- which when heard in isolation, is hardly iconic!

But I do have a grouse against Ramesh Sippy for snipping out a dialogue from the film, just because it had become a bit too long! It’s an omission that rankles me to this day.

The line came at the moment when Jai and Veeru send back Gabbar’s men, wounded, by saying, “Tum do ko maroge toh hum chaar ko maarenge.” At that moment, Gabbar’s ego takes a hit. He says: “Bahut dino baad, Gabbar ko koi aisa mila hai jo itni barabari se baat karta hai. Ab aayega mazaa, ab aayega mazaa khel ka.”

But there was a line ahead of this, a favourite of mine, that got cut. And it went like this: “Aisa maaliyaan met karoonga, aisa maaliyaan met karoonga, ke Ramgarh mein ek eent ke upar doosri eent nahin milegi.”