‘DDLJ’: Why a Bollywood classic about forbidden love still captivates Indian movie-goers 30 years on

Raj (Shah Rukh Khan) and Simran (Kajol) on a London bus in a scene from "DDLJ." (Yash Raj Films via CNN Newsource)

Inside the Maratha Mandir movie theatre, audience members jump to their feet as the first notes of an iconic mandolin riff play, their bodies casting silhouettes against the opening credits of a film screened here nearly every day for 30 years.

A joyous, collective roar erupts from the rows as the lead actors share their first fated glance. Near the front, a young couple mirrors that gaze, their wedding photographer capturing a timeless moment against the iconic backdrop.

Governments have fallen, and a new millennium has dawned, yet people still come to this Mumbai cinema to immerse themselves in the comfort of a love story known by heart, for less than $1 a ticket.

Released in 1995, “Diwale Dulhania Le Jayenge,” commonly referred to as “DDLJ,” tells the story of two young Indians, Raj Malhotra and Simran Singh, raised in London, who fall for each other during a freewheeling trip across Europe, only to face the ultimate test – earning her father’s approval. It became a cultural touchstone and the second-highest-grossing film of its decade.

Since then, the cinema’s daily showing has drawn young Indians dreaming of their own epic romance, those seeking a brief escape from the pressures of city life in Mumbai, and curious tourists who want to see the fandom up close.

“I watch it almost every day,” said Suneel Shedge, a 50-year-old diamond worker from a nearby neighborhood who speaks with leading man charisma, and is prone to bursting into songs from the movie. As the film hits its three-decade anniversary this month, he has come to pay homage to what he considers Bollywood’s greatest love story.

“Sometimes I cry, sometimes there’s pain. There’s happiness, there’s sadness,” he said. “A movie like this will never be made ever again.”

It’s the “most beautiful love story,” said 23-year-old Vaishnavi Deshmukh, who has lost count of how many times she has seen the film.

“I can’t explain how I feel,” her boyfriend, Tejas Raout, 23, said. “It’s nostalgia.”

In many ways, “DDLJ’s” narrative mirrors India’s own pivotal journey in the early 1990s — a nation shaking off its socialist slumber, opening its arms to the world, and finding a confident new voice that was both global in its outlook and Indian at its core.

This cultural resonance also had a seismic effect on its cast. The film catapulted Shah Rukh Khan and Kajol, who played lovers in the film, from rising stars into cinema royalty, cementing them as the definitive on-screen couple for years to come.

Yet, pinning down the exact formula which created this cultural phenomenon is impossible, said prominent Indian film critic and writer, Anupama Chopra.

You can’t attribute its success to “just one single thing,” the author of “Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge: A Modern Classic,” which analyzes the film’s commercial triumph, told CNN.

“When the cinema gods deem that you create a classic, the stars align. Everybody’s stars align. And you get a film like this, which I think becomes a romantic blueprint for many generations.”

Capturing the national zeitgeist

In 1995, India was a nation beaming with endless possibility.

Four years after the floodgates of economic liberalization had been thrown open, the country was in the midst of a cultural awakening. The state-run Doordarshan, which aired a mix of entertainment and news, was now competing with the vibrant pulse of MTV and Star TV, while the Indian-manufactured Ambassador car vied for space on the road with models made by Japan’s Maruti and South Korea’s Daewoo. On giant billboards towering over cities, Coca-Cola returned to wage war against Pepsi, and the American daytime soap opera “The Bold and the Beautiful” had become a household name.

This influx of choice created a thrilling but anxious juxtaposition: Indians were captivated by globalization but also fearful of losing their own identity.

Into this cultural moment, stepped filmmaker Aditya Chopra (no relation to film critic Anupama Chopra), the son of the late Yash Chopra — Bollywood’s legendary “King of Romance.”

“In the ’90s, the mood was about aspiration. The mood was about looking westward,” he said in the 2023 Netflix docuseries, “The Romantics,” which chronicles his family’s contribution to Indian cinema.

In his early twenties, Aditya Chopra had an idea for his directorial debut: a script he wrote that would capture the energy of his own generation.

In “DDLJ,” Simran, the devoted daughter of Baldev Singh, a hardworking owner of a corner shop, is initially not attracted to Raj, the low-achieving but fun-loving son of a wealthy immigrant. As they dance and sing their way through Switzerland, however, they eventually fall in love. But Simran’s stern, conservative father, has already arranged her marriage to another man.

“Love was always rebellious, against the parents,” Aditya Chopra said of other films at the time. “That always bothered me.”

So, instead of eloping in defiance of tradition, the charming Raj embarks on a mission to win Simran’s father’s approval in elaborate, often comedic ways. Simran, on the other hand, struggles between her duty as a daughter and her desire to marry the man she loves.

In the film’s climax, Baldev looks at his daughter and grants her his blessing. “Go, Simran, go. Live your life,” he says. What follows is an iconic sequence, captured in slow-motion: Simran’s desperate sprint down a train platform after ditching the planned wedding, her traditional bridal attire and thick, black hair billowing in the wind, Raj’s hand outstretched from the carriage door, his face bloodied after a fight with Simran’s doomed fiancé, and the triumphant embrace as he pulls her up to safety.

The first half of the film unfolds in the cosmopolitan landscapes of London and continental Europe, while the second half transports the audience to the agrarian fields of India’s Punjab state.

The characters take elements of Western culture to India, including the clothes they wear and their attitude towards love in a society where, in the mid-nineties, many parents claimed the right to choose — and veto — potential spouses.

The central conflict captivated the nation back then and continues to resonate with many young Indians today. For viewers like Deshmukh, who was at the Maratha Mandir screening, the takeaway is clear: “Parents matter the most,” she said.

The score, composed by the duo Jatin-Lalit, created an enduring legacy, producing an all-hit album whose songs became timeless anthems for romance and celebration. All these years later, people “watch it for the music,” said Lalit Pandit.

“I could feel right away this wasn’t just another film,” Manish Malhotra, the designer behind the movie’s costumes, told CNN. “(Aditya Chopra) was a first-time director, yes, but the way he spoke about Raj and Simran was so vivid, emotional, and precise that you almost saw the film come alive in that very moment.”

Malhotra, who went on to become one of India’s leading fashion designers, was particularly inspired by the duality at the heart of the film’s message, which he channeled directly into Simran’s wardrobe. He looked at her “not just as a heroine, but as a young woman caught between London and Punjab, her wardrobe needing to echo both her Western upbringing and her Indian soul.”

Simran wore short skirts and halter dresses, reflecting what young Indian women were wearing in the West. Meanwhile, “every pastel salwar, every floral skirt, every dupatta drape was about telling her story with authenticity,” he said, referring to some of her traditional Indian outfits.

On the film’s impact, Malhotra admits he couldn’t have predicted its eventual scale. “But I did know it was special,” he said. “Because when you connect to a story that deeply, when the characters feel that real, the work flows with sincerity. And that sincerity has a way of staying with people long after the film is over.”

Impact on future romance films

“DDLJ” was the first mainstream Bollywood film not just to represent Indians living overseas but place their unique cultural conflict at the very core of its narrative.

Prior to the film’s release, Indians abroad were rarely heroes in Bollywood movies. They were confined to negative archetypes: the villain who had lost his Indian values, or the seductress whose drinking and smoking habits signaled moral corruption.

“One of the reasons that ‘DDLJ’ is so amazing is that there’s a piece of everybody there in it,” said Snighda Sur, founder & CEO of The Juggernaut, a media platform that writes stories about South Asia and the South Asian diaspora.

“If you’re very Indian, and if you’re very nationalist… this film is about returning home to India… and getting permission the right way. If you’re a diaspora kid, you’re saying ‘we haven’t forgotten our traditions,’” she told CNN.

“You see two people who really want to be together, fighting for something they believe in. For Indians, and specifically from my experience… that’s the story of my life,” said Indian Canadian YouTuber Lilly Singh in the “The Romantics.” “I know, deep down, I really seek my parents’ approval. And that’s why the ending of ‘DDLJ’ meant so much to me.”

The wider Indian diaspora’s connection to the movie was immediately tangible and reflected in the box office numbers at the time. Made on a budget of less than half a million dollars, “DDLJ” earned nearly $2 million overseas, according to movie analyst Taran Adarsh. Back home, it became a blockbuster hit and the highest grossing film of 1995.

But beyond numbers, it created the blueprint for the modern Indian film that would dominate Bollywood for the next decade; “a watershed moment,” according to the author Anupama Chopra.

The cinematic landscape prior to “DDLJ” was defined by two prevalent narratives. There was the “angry young man”— a working-class protagonist, typically a victim of a corrupt system, whose story was driven by a quest for vengeance or social justice. Then there were the family melodramas centered on romances thwarted by stark class divides. Crucially, both worlds were almost exclusively rooted in India.

Aspects of “DDLJ’s” s storyline influenced a string of future blockbusters, from “Pardes” (1997), which explored the search for a traditional bride for a Westernized son; the grand family saga “Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham” (2001), centered on a wealthy patriarch’s disapproval of his son’s marriage to a commoner and set between London and New Delhi; and “Kal Ho Naa Ho” (2003), which tells the story of love and sacrifice within New York’s vibrant Indian community.

“DDLJ” also launched the legendary on-screen pairing of Khan and Kajol, who have starred in seven major films together, setting the gold standard for Bollywood romance for decades to come.

“When you keep repeating (their pairing) and it keeps attracting an audience, it cements their position,” Anupama Chopra said. “And off the top of my head, I can’t think of any pairing that had that sort of longevity.”

A step back in time

Back at the Maratha Mandir, walking into the screening of “DDLJ” feels like stepping into a time capsule.

A living museum of a bygone era, the building is an unassuming structure, its age showing in dilapidated sections and torn posters clinging to its gates. Inside, faded red leather seats evoke a classic, old-world ambiance. Popcorn and chips are still sold in simple, vacuum-sealed plastic bags.

“People from all around the world come here,” said its manager Manoj Pandey, who has been working at the institution for 15 years. “When the movie came out in 1995, no one thought we’d be here watching it 30 years later… But it was definitely right after the opening that it was going to become a blockbuster and have a long life.”

They still sell about 100 tickets a day, he said.

The theatre’s owner briefly flirted with the idea of stopping the show in 2015. But the announcement was met with outcry from the public. “We received hundreds of letters in protest,” said Pandey.

Earlier this month, Khan and Kajol reunited on stage for the Filmfare Awards, one of India’s most notable annual events that honors excellence in Hindi cinema, where they danced to one of movie’s most beloved songs, “Tujhe Dekha Toh,” which translates to “When I See You.”

Yet, for all the love and adoration, there are moments from the film that haven’t aged so well, according to some fans.

Viewed through a contemporary lens, the film’s gender politics feel dated, said “The Juggernaut’s” Sur, particularly in a scene where Raj gaslights a panicked Simran into believing they slept together after a night of drinking. This is compounded by the reduction of Simran’s agency to the singular goal of marrying her beloved, leaving her own personal ambitions completely unexplored.

“What does she do? What are her work ambitions?” Sur said. “I want to know more about what she’s studying, where she wants to work.”

For Anupama Chopra, the whole idea of Simran “being parceled between lover and father” is equally frustrating. “But every film is a product of its time,” she said. “And I can tell you at the premiere, none of us thought there was any problem with it because we didn’t know any better. We were swept by the romance.”

At the Maratha Mandir, crowds casually trickle in, well into the film’s three-hour runtime.

It’s clear that most have seen the movie before, yet when a big moment arrives, phones go up to capture it for social media as cheers erupt with a joy that feels brand new.

Sitting in one of the back rows, the diamond worker Shedge takes it all in.

“As long as I’m alive and until my last breath,” he said. “I’ll keep watching this film.”

By Rhea Mogul and Ayushi Shah, CNN