Five years before clearing the SSC examination in 1980, Sholay’s release in 1975 put school students like me in a dilemma. Word-of-mouth buzzed with curious chatter about an all-action movie. Seniors in the neighbourhood referred to a new picture in conversations. For us Class 5 students looking up to them in excitement, the buzz around a ‘flames’ film was a mystery. Something interesting was happening in the air above our heads, but there was nothing about Sholay we could put a finger on. Fiery or fun, fights or comedy, no one chipped in with a clue or helped with a hint about what to expect. Something special had happened, but in 1975 we were the half-tickets. 

For a year after the movie’s release in a faraway theatre, out of sight and out of mind for our parents to take us, spending hard-earned money on travel and tickets, the Sholay@Minerva tagline took root in young minds. I watched it for the first time at the cavernous Samrat Talkies in suburban Goregaon on a Sunday, accompanied by parents for the evening show. By then audio recordings of Sholay, played over loudspeakers at public functions with a clear aim of hiking the entertainment quota at privately-organised football tournaments, had floored us, firing our fertile minds about action unfolding on a virtual screen inside our head.

Fiery and funny, Sholay became part of growing up.