(From top) Salman -Madhuri in Hum Aapke Hain Koun..!; Karisma-Tabu-Sonali in Hum Saath-Saath Hain; Amrita-Shahid in Vivah; and Salman-Bhagyashree in Maine Pyar Kiya

We were brought up on black lies by our elders, Confucius and other philosophers’ quotable quotes. Marriages are made in heaven. That’s one big heap of bulldung. Marriages are made in the studios of Rajshri Pictures.

In the earlier days of the grand old man Tarachand Barjatya, the Rajshri Pictures idea of ‘family films’ came with a thick layer of ‘social message’ cheese spread. Not surprisingly, Tarachand Barjatya, paaye-laagi, established Rajshri Pictures on August 15, 1947, as a distribution house. So, the sanitised family formula came with virginal faces — yes, faces — of young star pairs and plenty of great songs which reverberated with traditional Indian melody, and went on to win hearts and awards. Think Dosti, the first Rajshri production in 1962, the perfect archetypal family social, studded with some of the best remembered songs. Dosti, directed by Satyen Bose, and music/lyrics by Laxmikant-Pyarelal and Majrooh Sultanpuri, but with an eminently unknown starcast, went on to win the National Award and six Filmfare Awards, the only two awards that existed or mattered in those heady days.

In the same healthy family tradition, long before one of ‘in-step sons’ KJo made K3G (Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham... to you, Uncles) as a tribute to parents and Ravi Chopra did ditto with Baghban. And Rajshris went the whole hog with films like Jeevan Mrityu, Upahar, Tapasya, Akhiyon Ke Jharokhon Se, Chitchor and the like. With “wholesome entertainment” they also sneaked in the SA (sex appeal to you, Dadajis) for the BO (Box-Office to you, Auntyjis) in the form of wetting fully clothed nubile nymphets, in the ‘clean’ sort of logical and mythological way, hi, there, Krishna!

While Rajshri did release an Oscar-nominated film, Saaransh, down the decades, the morning showed the day with Dulhan Wohi Jo Piya Man Bhaaye. You get the band-baaja drift, honeybuns? The only knot that can never be crossed out is marriage, of course, and the Rajshris hit upon the family formula with wholesome qualities, in keeping with their own trads, and trade.

Thus dawned Maine Pyar Kiya (1989), with greenhorn Salman Khan (whose shirtless morning also showed the shirtless days to come) and debutante Bhagyashree who failed to make it further because of her Barjatya bahu look, and there were no saas-bahu serials then, either. But Maine Pyar Kiya, with strong marriage masala thrown in, had the hormones at the turnstiles going berserk. It not only became the biggest grosser (not necessarily because it was less gross), won six Filmfare Awards and an award to its director Sooraj R. Barjatya for “sensational debut” (the ‘R’ in the name added on later, not because of numerology but for the same Indian sentiment reason that Sanjay Bhansali would insert mother Leela in his name later). The 24-year-old Sooraj Beta obviously had a wise Rajshri head on his young bold shoulders though he soon looked bald as 60, maybe because every debutant director 10 years later, would be just into his 20s, too.

Back to the Rajshris Proper, the new millennium wasn’t too much of good news for them, with turnips like Hum Pyar Tumhi se Kar Baithe, Uff! Kya Jadoo Mohabbat Hai..! and even Main Prem Ki Diwani Hoon, the last directed by the ‘sensationally debuted’ Sooraj R. Barjatya.

It was sad, just like it feels at bidaai when the beti is taking the duaaen of her Babul, because Sooraj takes his own time and years and painstaking efforts to perfect the marriage formula, so much like a panditji at the wedding rituals, beginning at the kundalis and janampatris right up to the last notes of the tear-jerking shehnai.

So, Sooraj has made just four films in 17 years till his fifth, Vivah. Maine Pyar Kiya (1989) and Main Prem Ki Diwani Hoon (2003). Between the two was the marriage milestone movie, Hum Aapke Hain Koun..! Don’t go by the false modesty embedded in the title; HAHK (the first in the series of long titles abbreviated) became the biggest hit in Indian cinema history, surpassing even Sholay and Jai Santoshi Ma and Rajshris’ own Maine Pyar Kiya.

HAHK, unerringly described by critics as one long marriage video, and adapted in England as a play titled, Fourteen Songs, Two Weddings And A Funeral, grabbed five Filmfare Awards and six Screen Awards. And, despite its typically Indian erotica undercurrents, marriage ceremony chhed-chhaad and the naughty-naughty Sallu catapulting the coy-coy Madhuri’s bon-bons, also won the National Award for “wholesome entertainment”. And, of course, the moolah and Maqbool (M.F. Husain, to you, Taojis) just came raking in. Bandwaalon, bajaate raho!

Sooraj’s last film formula ritual was Hum Saath-Saath Hain (1999), another huge joint family formula being tweaked. But note the honesty again in the title: Sooraj made no bones about what he was at. Unfortunately, he didn’t realise what most of his superstar cast was also at, and the black buck stopped there.

Now, look at Amrita Rao and Shahid Kapur at the posters, screaming simply, Vivah, though without an exclamation mark. Bhagyashree-Salman, anyone? Maine Pyar Kiya, anyone? But this time, Sooraj R. Barjatya’s come fully naked out of the closet. If Vivah is not clear enough what in the name of heaven is he talking about, here’s the tagline for you: “A journey from engagement to marriage....”

We just wonder, outside the Rajshris’ studios, are even Barjatya byaahs celebrated like that anymore?