By Aneela Aslam
Bollywood films have been a constant in my life, a tradition passed down through the generations. It started with my grandad, who was born in Jalandhar, in northern India, and later immigrated to England from Pakistan. He would rent the latest Bollywood hit on VHS to watch at home with my mum, a habit she carried on with my siblings and me — we grew up watching classics such as Devdas and Kuch Kuch Hota Hai.
Bollywood films — with their rich cultural elements mixed with dazzling dance numbers and lavish set designs — have always been magical to me. But Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s 2002 adaptation of the Bengali novel Devdas remains one of the most visually stunning films to come out of India and has influenced my vision of a perfect home.
In Bhansali’s version, the story takes place in early 20th-century India, with Devdas (played by Shah Rukh Khan) returning home from studying in London and set on marrying his childhood friend Paro (played by Aishwarya Rai, pictured above). However, Devdas’s family disapproves of the marriage since Paro’s mother comes from a dancing troupe. Angry, Paro’s mother marries her off to a wealthy widower as Devdas falls into depression, turning to alcohol and visiting courtesan Chandramukhi (played by Madhuri Dixit) before eventually dying outside the home of his lost love.
Despite the tragic story, the architecture and beauty of the set design is something that has always left me in awe. Paro’s childhood home in particular is full of inspiration. It’s where most of the film’s lighter and more intimate moments take place and it’s a testament to Bhansali’s desire to create a theatrical backdrop for his films.
The most prominent element of Paro’s traditional haveli, or town house, are the stained-glass windows in pink, purple and blue. These hand-painted windows create beautiful lighting which reflects onto the characters. The antithesis of minimalism, Bhansali’s devotion to colour is something I hope to emulate at home, giving up magnolia walls in favour of more striking colours. Candlelight seems to enhance the beauty, with candles dotted across Paro’s home.
With this in mind, a perfect brass oil lamp is top of my list for decoration. But I’m also drawn to the mirrors, vases, side-tables, miniature statues, gramophone and paintings. These tiny cultural elements are things I want to weave into my own space, signifiers of my identity as a third generation immigrant. Just as I wear jhumka earrings alongside my English outfits, I hope one day to scatter some small cultural touches among my possessions.
Collecting miniature paintings would be a place to start. I’d love to build up my own art collection in a similar style to Paro’s and would fill a wall with vividly coloured canvases depicting subjects with pronounced and elongated features — typical of the Kishangarh school of painting.
Yet of everything in Paro’s home, the thing I envy the most has to be the vine-wrapped garden swing. There’s an entire ecosystem of plants found all over the haveli and vines draped across the home’s grand exterior, yet the swing is the final whimsical and charming touch.
As Paro goes to her marital home, an opulent Mughal mansion, her name changes to its longer form, Parvati, and she loses her identity. Conveying the importance of place and belonging, the swing seems personal and signifies a childhood spent in a poetically crafted home.
Photography: Alamy, Mega Bollywood
