The last 26 years of Hindi cinema have witnessed the birth of a phenomenon, unlikely victors at the box office, famous lessons in humility, ancient ‘industry wisdom’ proving itself , Bollywood knocking at the LA-based Academy doors, and asserting a nation’s problems in a clear-eyed manner. It’s been through its fair share of tests and turmoil, and has been pulled in different directions. However, there’s little doubt that we might have been privy to the most broad range of films, compared to any such period in history. Here are 26 scenes from the last 26 years that defined Hindi cinema: 1) A star is (re)bornKaho Na… Pyaar Hai (2000)Rakesh Roshan took a big gamble in his son’s launch film by killing him around the interval point. Hrithik Roshan, as Rohit, gets bumped off a bridge only to pull along Sonia (Ameesha Patel) a year later as Raj. This time, he isn’t a working-class man with a scruffy beard. Raj’s hair is slicked back, he’s clean-shaven, and he wears rimless glasses as a style statement. This scene made both kids and grown-ups gasp alike. Later, when he would do that step in Ek Pal Ka Jeena, a nation would no longer be the same. A star is [re]born.2) ‘Sarat manjoor hai’Lagaan (2001)I don’t think enough people think about just how absurd Ashutosh Gowariker’s Oscar-nominated film reads on paper. A British officer being capricious enough to bet three years of tax for a province on a game of cricket. The premise hinges on this crucial scene, which could easily look silly. Yet, to the credit of actors Paul Blackthorne, Kulbhushan Kharbanda and a certain Aamir Khan, it sings. Superbly shot (by Anil Mehta) and edited (by Ballu Saluja), the scene seems in no hurry. As its intensity gradually increases, Gowariker showcases the British empire’s hubris, along with their wilyness to increase stakes in a bet they’re sure to win. The only way out for Bhuvan (Khan) is to win against impossible odds, thus igniting Hindi cinema’s greatest sports film.3) The bridge Dil Chahta Hai (2001)Three friends, seated on the wall of a Goan fort, taking in the scenery – an iconic visual from Farhan Akhtar’s debut. Here, Aamir Khan’s Aakash suggests they should spend a week like this every year, only for Akshaye Khanna’s Siddharth to say it won’t be the same once they leave harbour. Typical quarterlife hardships – ambition, relationships, ideological pursuits – will pull them in different directions, which results in them making a pact to remain ‘friends forever’ – a sentiment too cheesy and sincere for the irreverent dynamic between them. Yet, it’s here that Akhtar shows stellar instincts once again, when he resumes the bridge of the title track – letting this ‘3D’ friendship blossom with the optimism of youth. A new wave has taken off, Hindi cinema won’t look/sound the same again.4) “Kya duty hai aapki?” Khakee (2004)The melodramatic monologue in a mainstream potboiler is its own gift; one that is slowly fading. Few did it better than writer-director Rajkumar Santoshi, a former assistant to Govind Nihalani – having made a career with conscientious, issue-based cinema. Santoshi was at his peak in Khakee, where he (and writer Sridhar Raghavan) gave Amitabh Bachchan his last undisputed great monologue. The scene begins with Bachchan’s team of cops being ‘relieved’ from their assignment, for simply doing it too well. “We’re doing our duty”, the greasy SP tells Bachchan’s DCP Anant Kumar Srivastava. Using his thunderous delivery, Bachchan reminds the greasy cop about his sense of duty. Hell hath no fury, like an Angry Young-ish Man scorned.5) “Main kuch bhi nahi laa paaya” Swades (2004)Mohan Bhargava’s (Shah Rukh Khan) conscience wasn’t built in a day. When he first arrives at his nanny’s (Kishori Ballal) village, he is amused. Mollycoddled by his comforts as a tourist, Mohan doesn’t immerse himself in the village’s issues until he meets Haridas, a farmer exiled for taking up work ‘not permissible’ to his caste. It forces Mohan to face his own elitism (he’s been carrying mineral water since he arrived), which he corrects by sipping his country’s water from an urn. Before he shares his provocative thoughts in the film’s most quotable scenes set during Dusshera, and goes on to help the village generate its own electricity, Mohan must feel defeated for not using his material, intellectual and moral resources to help his country. It’s excellently acted by Khan – possibly drawing on real-life experience, where he’s been a helpless spectator despite having more-than-ample resources.6) The coronation, the betrayal Omkara (2006)Vishal Bhardwaj’s adaptation of Othello might be one of the most intoxicating cocktails of mainstream sensibility backed by artistic integrity. Beginning the film with an unrecognisable Saif Ali Khan playing Langda Tyagi – spitting out gutkha like a ninja – the performance reaches its crescendo during the coronation scene. Omi (Ajay Devgn) is choosing his successor, with Langda, apparently, next in line. But in a moment of swift cruelty, Omi hands Langda the ritual plate and turns towards Keshu Firangi (Vivek Oberoi) anointing him the next strongman of the town. Saif Ali Khan’s eyes grappling with the shock, on the verge of tears, while putting up a stoic expression – might go down as one of the best scenes in his acting career. 7) The quiet explosion Guru (2007)Mani Ratnam’s Guru hasn’t aged well – a film deifying a dishonest, law-breaking business tycoon (rumoured to be based on Dhirubhai Ambani), while turning a journalist and a newspaper owner into ‘antagonists’. However, there’s still the pre-interval scene that looks perfectly calibrated like something only when conducted by the Mani Ratnam orchestra. It’s supposed to be a loud confrontation around a corrupt businessman, growing at an unnatural speed, as a couple of journalists try to show him the mirror. And yet, no one raises their voice in the scene. Everyone speaks in short, direct sentences. Rajeev Menon’s cinematography, Sreekar Prasad’s editing, A R Rahman’s score and the four actors in the frame – Abhishek Bachchan, Mithun Chakraborty, R Madhavan and Vidya Balan, all close to their best on screen – let the unpleasantness stew in the scene without drawing attention to just one thing. 8) “Mujhe sab dekhna hai” Chak de India! (2007)It’s in Shimit Amin’s Chak De India! that Shah Rukh Khan came closest to wearing his real-life identity as a liberal Muslim on screen. A disgraced former hockey player, forced to leave his neighbourhood, Khan’s character seethes as he sees ‘gaddaar’ (traitor) scribbled on the wall of the house built by his forefathers. Patriotism is a touchy topic for Khan – hailing from a family of freedom fighters, and hence, one senses an irritation during interviews when he’s indirectly and repeatedly asked to profess his love for India. In Amin’s film, Khan responds to all the annoying questions with one brief expression — where he’s escorting his mother out of the locality. “Don’t look there,” she tells him, but Khan doesn’t listen. “I want to see everything,” he smoulders. Rarely has Shah Rukh Khan’s anger felt more authentic.9) “Mereko Dubai jaane ka hai” Black Friday (2007)Anurag Kashyap’s magnum opus on the aftermath of the 1993 Bombay bomb blasts is a lightning in a bottle. Working with a fraction of a budget, a guerilla crew, a competent but largely unknown ensemble, and facing delays due to ongoing cases – the film released over two and a half years after its intended date. At a runtime of 162 mins, it flits between a dozen speaking parts. But the most sparkling character in memory is Badshah Khan (Aditya Srivastava), especially in the scene where he learns the passports used to send them to Pakistan – to train with explosives and firearms – have been burned. It’s here that the men start to realise they’ve been used and left to rot. In the next scene, Badshah sees a puppy being teased with a tennis ball. If there was a more accurate face of someone wronged, I haven’t seen it yet. 10) “Apni apni capacity hoti hai” Oye Lucky Lucky Oye (2008)A middle-class boy from West Delhi looks on with naked aspiration as the convent-educated kids his age exit an ‘imported’ car. He can’t speak English, but he desperately wants to count as ‘gentrified’. So, he takes this girl out to a fancy restaurant. He’s aced his lies till then, but a waiter (Rajeev Gaursingh) sees through his charades. Teasing them about ordering a spread they can’t afford, he ends up suggesting a plate of paneer pakode (fritters). “Paanch piece aate hai, dhai-dhai khaa lena. Ya phir tum do aur woh teen.” Then, he delivers the most cutting line: “Apni apni capacity hoti hai.” ‘Capacity’ here is code for status, which our protagonist chases through the film’s runtime. He uses his smooth mannerisms to accumulate things (including family photos of the people he’s robbing), only to tragically find out in the end the game was rigged and he never stood a chance. 11) Opening credits Luck By Chance (2009)I remember the moment when Zoya Akhtar’s Luck By Chance felt like a warm embrace. During the opening credits, the camera zooms in on a ‘fairy’. In the next moment, she’s seen heading towards what doesn’t look like the most hygienic toilet. She’s an actor and the sequence is taking place in film sets. It’s meant to be an ode to the unseen faces – working tirelessly behind the scenes, to will this dreamland into existence. The dolly into a ‘no smoking on set’ sign, as a man in a red shirt smokes next to it, might be one of the coolest tributes to Bollywood’s working-class. The song, Yeh Zindagi Bhi, sung by Shekhar Ravjiani and composed by Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy, draws parallels between the wish-fulfillment we seek in life, but find only in movies. That’s probably why, Akhtar argues films are important. It feeds our wonder, even when life repeatedly jolts us back to reality. 12) The half-brother Udaan (2010)A scene I remember vividly about Vikramaditya Motwane’s directorial debut is of Arjun (Ayan Barodia) standing in a bathroom with his eyes closed, holding a bow and arrow. In this grim tale of boyhood, Arjun represents the innocence that should be protected at all costs. His introduction is abrupt, when he enters as Rohan (Rajat Barmecha) is settling into his old room after being expelled. His father (Ronit Roy) offhandedly tells him he remarried after Rohan went to boarding school, but it didn’t work out. “Jamaa nahi,’ Roy’s character says in his dry, dismissive manner. As Rohan and his father’s relationship gets more tense and abusive, it’s Arjun who catalyses their estrangement. It’s only when he sees the cycle of abuse being repeated that Rohan decides to break free from his father’s clutches. For Arjun, Rohan resolves to become the father he never had. 13) The honour killing Love Sex aur Dhokha (2010)Dibakar Banerjee’s first story in the triptych is a twist on the 90s romance. The poor boy falls in love with the rich girl, and her father is obviously against the relationship. So, they elope. But as kids enamoured by Hindi films, they still long for the father’s acceptance. When they reach out, they’re asked to come home. After all, Bollywood teaches us everything will be alright. As they’re on their way, their car is intercepted by a gang led by the girl’s brother (Atul Mongia). The couple is hacked to death. Banerjee’s shocking twist works because of how he lets a newspaper headline bleed into a Bollywood fairytale. Both Anshuman Jha and Nushratt Bharucha are perfect casting as the wide-eyed lovers, unaware of harsh realities. But it’s Mongia’s eyes in the handycam’s night-vision that make the scene unforgettable.14) “English mein sorry bol” Shor in the City (2011)Raj and DK might be Bollywood’s quintessential underdogs – transitioning from American software jobs to full-time filmmaking. Even now, when they’ve established themselves as the hottest property in the Indian web series space, I envision them as the ‘little guys’, who would always stand up to the sophisticated, rich ‘big guys’. Paving their way into the industry on two busy films (Flavors and 99), it was only with their third feature that they witnessed box office glory for the first time. And yet, one thing I keep going back to is the character of Mandook (Pitobash Tripathy, making a scene-stealing debut) pointing a gun at a guy in a latrine stall and asking him to say ‘sorry’ in English. It’s the kind of nonsensical humour that keeps bursting from within the duo’s enterprise, puncturing even the most tense moments.15) Death as an absence Shahid (2013)I’ve often thought about Tom Stoppard’s quote on death being an ‘absence of presence’. Few things exemplify this better than the climax of Hansal Mehta’s film on the slain lawyer/activist, Shahid Azmi. Drowning in case-work in the aftermath of the 7/11 Mumbai bomb blasts, the Malegaon terror attack, the 26/11 attack in Mumbai – Azmi was representing Muslim men, allegedly indiscriminately arrested by the law enforcement. Like the rest of his film, even Azmi’s death is shown from a distance, using silence. However, the film also soon cuts to one of Azmi’s colleagues, who continues to argue for an accused in the 26/11 terror attack. It’s his absence in court when his client is vindicated – that feels unsettling. But it speaks to what Azmi was fighting for, and why even his own death might be ‘minor’ collateral damage, compared to his cause. 16) The chowk monologue Haider (2014)Shakespeare’s ‘to be or not to be’ being turned into ‘hum hai ke hum nahi’ for a Kashmir setting in the 1990s has to be one of the most inspired adaptation choices in the history of Hindi cinema. The frenzy in Vishal Bhardwaj’s film hits a crescendo when Haider (Shahid Kapoor) literally takes the centre-stage at a chowk in Srinagar and gives an impassioned monologue, rhyming AFSPA with chutzpah. Delivering arguably his career’s best scene, Kapoor looks possessed. It was obviously a task to condense Kashmir’s tortured history into a three-minute speech, but what’s palpable in the scene is the Kashmiri youth’s rage. Kapoor uses no half-measures while immersing himself in his character’s outburst. Few Hindi films have been able to articulate deep-seated rage through dark humour the way this scene does. Such a scene, barely from a decade ago, feels like a fantasy in today’s circumstances. 17) The promise Masaan (2015)Neeraj Ghaywan centres his directorial debut around three stories of salvation. The one I found most affecting is the inter-caste love story between Deepak (Vicky Kaushal) and Shalu (Shweta Tripathi). Away with her family on a pilgrimage, Shalu calls Deepak. Their last trip ended on a bitter note, after he projects his insecurities on her about the visible class, caste difference. During the phone call, Shalu reassures him that her parents are conservative – but she will figure something out. “Just make sure you find a job. We’ll elope if we have to…” As Shalu’s face becomes slightly sombre, Deepak lights up. He gets ready to take on the world. Little does he know that it will be the last he hears from her. 18) CBI Team 1 vs CBI Team 2 Talvar (2015)Probably Hindi cinema’s first post-truth film, Meghna Gulzar’s film ends with a darkly funny CBI meeting, where two investigative teams present their conclusions. While the first team suggested that the evidence was compromised but the prime suspects would be the clinic’s staff, the second team is hell-bent on giving credence to the theories surrounding the parents being responsible for the murder of their teenage daughter. Based on the Arushi Talwar case, and written like a tight procedural by Vishal Bhardwaj, the final 20 minutes of Talvar show the first few hints of the current polarisation, where one side is forced to withstand the preposterous theories of the ‘other side’ under the pretext of civilised discourse. The scene gives us a peek into the broken justice machinery, and how sometimes law enforcement agencies go around chasing their own tails, coming up with theories based on their own biases, morals and judgement. They see what they want to see, fully ignoring what evidence might suggest. It helps that the scene has fantastic actors including Irrfan, Prakash Belawadi, Shishir Sharma, Sohum Shah and Atul Kumar among others, playing out Rashomon-like instances of the parents’ alleged modus operandi. 19) The homecoming Island City (2016)Ruchika Oberoi’s directorial debut is another triptych set in the near future, and one of the wildest swings I’ve seen in a theatre. Especially the second story, Ghost in the Machine – starring Amruta Subhash – playing a housewife, grappling with her husband being in a coma. The twist, here, is that her husband was a tyrant. So, even while she performs her grief for society, she (along with her mother-in-law and kids) are actually relieved he’s not home, barking orders. During this phase, the family gets invested in a daily soap titled ‘Purushottam’ (The Ideal Man). As the lines blur between the plot-points on the show, and their real-life situation, Oberoi mines the premise for all its satirical potential. The last scene made me laugh out loud, when both the husband and the TV protagonist are battling from their lives. Only one makes it home. 20) “Sab khaana khaake, daaru peeke, chale gaye” Jagga Jasoos (2017)Anurag Basu films can go from glorious to infuriating in a few scenes, as if he’s shooting at the speed of thought. Hence, some of his ‘light bulb’ moments feel magical, while others can make you wonder if he’s a deep-thinker at all. Yet, one sequence from his filmography has stayed with me. Protagonist Jagga (Ranbir Kapoor, with scene-stealing physical comedy) has reached journalist Shruti Sengupta’s (a highly miscast Katrina Kaif) residence. She’s having a get-together when the doorbell rings; everyone thinks it’s one of her irritable neighbours. The chance line, “Ghar mein koi nahi hai, sab khaana khaake, daaru peeke chale gaye,” becomes a hook for a winsome song sequence – taking on a more profound meaning by the end. Jagga, who has a stutter and can only speak in verse, immediately catches on. It’s an inspired sequence that never quite connects with the rest of the film.21) ‘Ashwin…’ Sir (2020)Rohena Gera’s film shouldn’t have worked for many reasons. It’s unlikely she had the lived experience of being a help in Mumbai. Tillotama Shome (who plays Ratna), having appeared in sophisticated indie films, was nowhere close to passing off as someone from rural Maharashtra. And the film revolved around the mutual attraction between a maid and her employer – the mere thought seeming transgressive.Yet, while watching the film, it dawned on me that my queasiness was my problem. I didn’t see Ratna beyond the functions of a household; definitely not as someone capable of desire. Love routinely shakes up the status quo, but Gera’s film is not the simplistic kind to glaze over the challenges of our hierarchical society. Ratna and Ashwin’s (Vivek Gomber) love blossoms through a series of stop-starts. He lets her pursue her passion, she gifts him a hand-stitched shirt that he wears to work. There’s denial and sabotage, but eventually, Ratna musters the courage to refer to her employer as an equal. 22) “Maa ka hona zaruri hota hai” Badhaai Do (2022)One of the least talked-about great films from the last decade, Harshvardhan Kulkarni’s Badhaai Do toys with its audience in the climax. Reaching a compromise, Shardul (Rajkummar Rao) and Suman (Bhumi Pednekar) continue their lavender marriage to adopt a child – something queer couples are not allowed in India. The two have come out to their families, not hiding the unconventional arrangement to co-parent, with fleeting attention from their partners – Guru (Gulshan Devaiah) and Rimjhim (Chum Darang). But honesty dissipates when Shardul’s superior attends the ceremony to bless the child, forcing Rimjhim to step away. The screen fades to black – leaving the audience to mull over the tragedy – only to come back to life to show Suman’s father (Nitesh Pandey) coaxing Rimjhim to sit next to her. “It’s important for the mother to be a part of the puja”, he tells her, leaving Shardul’s superior and his wife perplexed. They’re left in further discomfort when Shardul calls Guru to sit beside him, owning his identity. It’s the portrait of an unconventional set of parents that depicts the sheer splendour of a tolerant society. 23) “Haar nahi maanunga, raar nahi thaanunga”12th Fail (2023)Vidhu Vinod Chopra’s straight-shooting fairytale conveys how filmmaking can be both easy and difficult. He uses the most derivative set-ups: a not-so-bright boy trying to crack a notoriously difficult exam. There have been similar films before, but it’s Chopra’s ability to inject genuine feeling that ensured I held my breath for Manoj (Vikrant Massey). An affecting scene is when Manoj’s father (Harish Khanna) visits him at a flour mill. It’s a dingy attic where Manoj studies, lives and works – in a rare moment, Manoj’s idol looks shaky about his lifelong principles. “People like us can’t win,” he tells his son, only to hear – “but giving up has never been an option for us.” The scene segues to Manoj’s father reciting the Atal Behari Vajpayee poem he swears by – “Haar nahi maanunga, raar nahi thaanunga.” As the son recites it, the roles are reversed. Even while being straight-forward, it’s a cathartic scene about a striver’s spirit.24) Outside the boxCTRL (2024)Vikramaditya Motwane’s film came to life for me, the moment it broke out of its screen-life template. It’s only when Ananya Panday’s Nella is in prison – implicated for the murder of her ex-boyfriend (Vihaan Samat) – does it begin to soar. A brutish lawyer threatens to drain her mentally, physically, financially and digitally, if she pursues any case against the tech company, and offers to wipe out her digital footprint (including her recent controversies) if she cooperates. It’s not much of a choice. It’s in the final 10 minutes that Motwane’s film becomes what it was always meant to be. A dystopic thriller about technology addiction and the inevitability of Big Tech colonising human interaction. In a bleak ending, Nella chooses an AI avatar of her murdered boyfriend, befriending an algorithm over a person. It’s a chilling knock-out punch by a film that looks silly for a majority of its runtime. 25) A mob nation Stolen (2025)A striking thing about Karan Tejpal’s film is how it depicts a nation mobilising around a ‘righteous’ cause. As Raman (Shubham) and Gautam (Abhishek Banerjee) help Jhumpa (Mia Maelzer) locate her infant, stolen from a railway station, someone misidentifies them as ‘child kidnappers’ and broadcasts it on WhatsApp.It results in a harrowing chase sequence where the camera remains in the car, mimicking us ‘consuming’ a lynching reel on our phone. Some boys identify the car, question Gautam and, before we know it, things deteriorate. A mob starts to manhandle the brothers, who manage to escape only to be chased by a dozen bikes and jeeps full of armed men. A man waits for them near a ravine, with a boulder aimed at the sunroof. It’s a glaring irony of a nation where we make our peace with corruption and discrimination but bay for blood on half-baked information. 26) The slipper from beyond Homebound (2025)Neeraj Ghaywan’s film – based on Basharat Peer’s NYT piece, Taking Amrit Home – has a few sparkling lines. But the one that stayed with me is, ‘yeh aediyaan humein virasat mein mili hai’ (these cracked heels are all the inheritance we have), said by Chandan’s mother (played by Shalini Vatsa). In typically sacrificial-mother logic, she explains how working barefeet in construction keeps her rooted to the soil. Fortunately, Chandan (Vishal Jethwa) knows better.Shortly before heading home when the lockdown is announced, Chandan buys a pair of slippers for her. But on his way, Chandan suffers a heatstroke, never making it home despite his friend Shoaib’s (Ishaan Khatter) best efforts. As Shoaib reaches Chandan’s home with his body, his mother at first is stunned into silence. But when Shoaib shows her the slippers, we hear her wail. The promise of youth, a family reunion, the dream of living in a pukka house – all trampled by a nation’s indifference.