Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge turns 30: A journey through its songs, where Aditya Chopra’s authorship shone brightest

Amrish Puri in Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge.

We first see Chaudhary Baldev Singh (Amrish Puri) in that now-iconic opening: feeding pigeons in London, confessing that only they seem to know him. The pigeons fly freely between London and Punjab, a passage he cannot take. “My wings are clipped and shackled to my bread,” he says. (Dialogue writing at its peak by Javed Siddiqui). Then the camera tracks in (Manmohan Singh), the music swells, and suddenly we are transported with him, from London’s overcast hush to the luminous fields of Punjab. The nostalgia here is not necessarily nationalist; it is very much personal. Baldev’s longing is not for a nation but for a soil, a memory, a Punjab (a place that has long haunted the imagination of the Chopras due to the scars of partition and the ache of distance).

Within that song lies another potent image (more on that later) of  young women radiantly running through fields. It’s the kind of picturesque depiction of Punjab that we later see in all its full glory in Yash Chopra’s Veer Zaara. Coming back to the song which later circles back to London, and we see Baldev again, making his way to work. His attire, bright, traditional, unassimilated, stands in sharp contrast to London’s cold palette. In fact, even within the imagined warmth of Punjab, he appears out of place, despite him wanting to hold on to it desperately. Exile defines him: bound to two worlds, claimed by none.

Mere Khwabon Mein
Singer: Lata Mangeshkar
Lyrics: Anand Bakshi
Composer: Jatin-Lalit

Kajol in Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge.

It’s hardly a revelation that Chopra drew deeply from Sooraj Barjatya, and most directly from Hum Aapke Hain Koun..!. It’s no surprise, then, that he introduces his heroine, Simran (Kajol), in a manner reminiscent of the way Madhuri Dixit was picturised in Barjatya’s ‘Chocolate Lime Juice’. We first see Simran singing of the man she dreams of, enclosed within her domestic space. This is what perhaps film scholar Ranjani Mazumdar, in her book Bombay Cinema, calls the “panoramic interior”: an expansive imaginative zone within the confines of home. Simran’s space (production design by Sharmishta Roy) may not possess Barjatya’s opulence, but it remains fertile. A room large enough to house her fantasies, as if it’s her private theatre of longing.

No wonder then when we meet Raj (Shah Rukh Khan), the contrast is immediate and deliberate. He is the man of her fantasies. He lunges forward on a rugby field, surrounded by foreigners, triumphant among them. He speeds down British roads on a motorcycle, races alongside an airplane. Always in motion, always victorious. He inhabits the outer world and masters it, while Simran remains sheltered within her inner one. These are two faces of the immigrant experience: one that assimilates through conquest, the other that preserves identity through retreat. It is also Chopra introducing the film’s central conflict right away, two lives orbiting different worlds, bound by opposing ways of being. They are, at this point, irreconcilable halves of the same exile.

Ruk Ja O Dil Deewane
Singer: Udit Narayan
Lyrics: Anand Bakshi
Composer: Jatin-Lalit

Shah Rukh Khan and Kajol in Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge.

This is the song, perhaps more than any other, where one can say with certainty that the world fell for Shah Rukh Khan’s charisma. It is designed precisely for that, for both the spectators and Simran to witness what Raj can do when he flirts on the edge of mischief and sincerity. The performance carries traces of Shammi Kapoor’s exuberance, but Farah Khan choreographs that energy with exacting control. And Chopra brings a new vitality to a conventional club number giving it the gloss of a music video (a lot in the zone of MTV) while keeping it rooted in emotional texture.

Although Raj does cross some lines, especially towards the end, what’s most intriguing, though, is the layer of play-acting that runs through it. Both Raj and Simran are putting on a show. He performs nonchalance; she shows disinterest. Attraction begins not in confession but in pretence. It’s this layering of play within play that lends the song its enduring charge and sets the stage for the love story to come.

Zara Sa Jhoom Loon Main
Singers: Abhijeet Bhattacharya, Asha Bhosle
Lyrics: Anand Bakshi
Music: Jatin Lalit

Shah Rukh Khan and Kajol in Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge.

Remember how, in ‘Mere Khwabon Mein’, it is Raj who inhabits the outer world, leaping across spaces, playing, performing, living out adventure, while Simran remains indoors, confined to her room, dreaming of a man who belongs elsewhere. Here, Chopra reverses that dynamic. It is now Simran who steps into the world, doing everything Raj once did. She runs through European streets, jumps onto train carriages, shatters windowpanes, steals dresses she desires, dances in the snow, swims, and tosses Raj into icy water.

It is an exposition of agency, a rare moment where Simran inhabits the fantasy she once only imagined. Her joy is not derivative of Raj’s attention but born from her own freedom. The sequence evokes, in spirit, Main Toh Beghar Hoon from Suhaag, that same blend of abandon and yearning captured by Parveen Babi. By the end of the song, both Raj and Simran test each other’s impulses, not as lovers yet, but as equals drawn into mutual provocation. In moments like this, Chopra infused the romance with a touch of modernity. For all the film’s eventual lean towards conservatism, here he allows a temporary suspension of order.

Ho Gaya Hai Tujhko
Singers: Lata Mangeshkar, Udit Narayan
Lyrics: Anand Bakshi
Music: Jatin Lalit

Shah Rukh Khan and Kajol in Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge.

This is the song where both finally sense their love, each imagining the other’s confession. Chopra stages it through two immigrant journeys, divided by class and space. Raj drives through the open countryside in his sports car, solitude made possible by privilege. Simran moves through rain and crowds, taking buses, walking endless streets. Her journey is public, ordinary, lived among others.

What’s worth noticing here is Keshav Naidu’s use of dissolves. Notice how much of the interaction unfolds with the usage of swift dissolves as if Raj and Simran are engaged in a dialogue not only with each other but also with themselves. And at her doorway, lifting her luggage, she imagines Raj again, in the same rugby shirt from ‘Mere Khwabon Mein’. The image folds the story back on itself. What began as fantasy indoors returns as memory across distance. Love now becomes a matter of space, of how far they must travel to reach each other.

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Tujhe Dekha Toh
Singers: Kumar Sanu, Lata Mangeshkar
Lyrics: Anand Bakshi
Music: Jatin Lalit

Shah Rukh Khan and Kajol in Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge.

Remember that imagery in ‘Ghar Aaja Pardesi’ where young women running freely through the fields of Punjab. That circles back to here, in perhaps the film’s most iconic moment: Simran, in a white suit, running through those same fields into Raj’s arms. It is a proposal as grand as it is rebellious, where love asserts itself against order. No wonder it became the film’s most enduring image. No surprise that sarson ke khet continue to embody the collective nostalgia of the entire nation.

Equally significant is the narrative shift from this point forward, as the story transitions from being predominantly Simran’s to focusing on Raj. The first half explores Simran’s journey, while the latter half marks Raj’s homecoming as he reveals his previously concealed sensitive side. Coming back to the song: what follows after their confession to each other is even more revealing. We glimpse an imagined future, Raj and Simran together in the European landscapes where they first met as strangers, now living as partners, sharing an ordinary, almost domestic happiness. It’s Chopra’s way of completing the circle, suggesting what lies beyond the fairy tale ending.

Mehndi Laga Ke Rakhna
Singers: Lata Mangeshkar, Udit Narayan
Lyrics: Anand Bakshi
Music: Jatin Lalit

Shah Rukh Khan and Kajol in Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge.

This has to be the film’s final song. The moment when everything gathers into one full-blooded bloom. For all its grandness in scale yet intimate in feeling. For all its playful energy yet laced with defiance. The spatial dynamics are fascinating; one could write an entire essay on how Saroj Khan designs movement with so much detailing. Say, at the start, the male and female dancers occupy clearly defined spaces, reflecting the traditional wedding ritual being performed. Perhaps, that’s why their movements are modest, nothing showy, belonging to the texture of celebration itself.

What truly stands out is how the song becomes a dialogue of glances between Raj and Simran. Many shots are tight or mid close-ups, turning their exchanged gazes into a kind of poetic thriller. So, as the song progresses, boundaries blur: Raj crosses into Simran’s space, and the two groups merge. A slow-motion moment captures their union. Raj then adorns the dupatta on his head and begins to dance. An uncommon imagery of a Hindi film hero embracing his feminine side. Perhaps that’s why Farida Jalal too joins the joyous crowd, and just as the celebration reaches its peak, Amrish Puri’s Baldev Singh sings ‘Ae Mere Zohra Jabeen’, revealing a heart finally softened, a man ready to let go.