The Evolution of the Hindu Heroine
From Ancient Mythology to Modern Day Cinema
By Emily Holmstead
Put your henna on and keep the wedding palanquin decorated.
Beautiful girl, your beloved will come to take you away.
Put your henna on, and keep the wedding palanquin decorated.
Make yourself beautiful; keep your face veiled.
-Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge (The Brave-Hearted Will Take Away the Bride)
Why is it that you go to a temple and pray to Durga, Kali and Saraswati yet when you go home you treat your Durgas, Kalis and Saraswatis so maliciously?
-Lajja (Modesty/Shame)
Bollywood is the simultaneously affectionate and derisive term for the Hindi-speaking Indian film industry. It is one of the highest grossing entities in the world, selling more tickets and churning out more movies than Hollywood every year. A Bollywood movie, which usually clocks in at about three hours, is generally full of melodrama, whirling saris, mythological parallels, and archetypal characters. Scenes are regularly interrupted by choreographed song and dance sequences. The western ideas of realism is unexpected and unappreciated by the billions of consumers who flock to movie theatres and the elite group of families who dominate the big screen and the. Stars such as Shahrukh Khan, Rani Mukherjee, Aamir Khan, Aishwarya Rai, Priety Zinta, Amitabh Bachchan, Katrina Kaif, Shahid Kapoor, Salman Khan, Kajol, Akshay Kumar, Amrita Rao, Kareena Kapoor, John Abraham, Saif Ali Khan and Maduri Dixit are splashed across giant billboards and plastered on the walls of shops, using their fame to advertise their latest films and provide more fuel to the already raging Coke-Pepsi-ad-campaign. The music industry is inextricably intertwined with the film industry, so the popularity of a movie is largely based on the popularity of its music and vice versa. Bollywood makes its presence known in almost every aspect of Indian culture with a blunt commercialism and unapologetic enthusiasm.
The leading ladies of Bollywood have a firm grounding in their mythological counterparts, but the western world and the feminist movement have changed women’s status in Hindi films. Today’s films feature women whose salwaar-chemise-and-jean-clad forms perform traditional rituals, fill university classrooms, doggedly pursue their husbands, and cry out against social injustice. In Bollywood films of the last twenty years, the evolution of the Hindu heroine is evident in the power structure of male-female relationships and the importance of a woman’s education and career while echoes of Radha and Sita are still seen in the heroines’ devotion to romance and the Indian characterization of motherhood.
I. Women in Mythology: Subservience and Fidelity
A Hindu heroine, regardless of her time period, is defined by her loyalty and love in romantic relationships. One of the most famous women in Hindu mythology is Sita, who has been a role model for thousands of years of Indian women. She is one of the human incarnations of the Lakshmi, the goddess of prosperity, munificence, and purity. The Ramayana recounts the tale of her relationship with her husband, Rama, the seventh avatar of the god Vishnu (the preserver in the Hindu triad). She has a traditional arranged marriage with her royal groom and proceeds to embody all wifely virtues. She serves her husband with devotion and love.
When Rama is banished and forced to live a life of destitution for fourteen years, she insists that she be allowed to accompany and help him in his exile. After she is kidnapped by the villainous demon Ravana and refuses to be rescued by anyone but her husband she submits to a trial by fire to prove her purity. And when Rama, enraged by gossip about his wife’s infidelity, sends her away, she complies obediently, despite the fact she is pregnant with Rama’s heirs.
Throughout her life, Sita is unwaveringly loyal to Rama. She honors and sacrifices for him. She lives her life at his beck and call. No injustice is too insulting to be endured to protect his good name, no adversity is too difficult to undergo to succor him, and no punishment is too unjustified to accept to obey him. All the major events and decisions in her life are either precipitated, guided by, or in response to Rama. Sita, ideal Hindu woman, is defined by her love and reverence for her husband.
Another incarnation of this couple is Radha and Krishna, who are two different physical manifestations of Lakshmi and Vishnu. Radha and Krishna are childhood friends. The mischievous young man’s feeling for the beautiful goat-herder blossoms into love. Though Krishna leaves Radha because he must fulfill his duty, her only duty is to love him. Krishna goes on to defeat an evil king, become a hero in battle, marry 16, 108 women, and travel the land dispensing justice. Radha waits for him. Scorning the man she is forced to marry, dishonoring her family, and neglecting her responsibilities, she clings to her beloved Krishna. Her life is consumed by him. In many chants and religious ceremonies Radha-Krishna is referred to as a single entity. This absolute devotion to her love elevated Radha to her current status in the Hindu tradition.
II. Traditional Women in Modern Films: A Little Vermillion
Just as the heroines of old, today’s Hindu protagonists find fulfillment through romance. Whether it is Simran of “Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge” (The Brave-Hearted Will Take Away the Bride), who betrays her beloved father for the sake of her beloved, or the star of Bombay, who compromises her religious beliefs and abandons her family to marry her boyfriend or Shanti in Om Shanti Om (God Grant Us Peace) whose only desire is to put vermillion in the parting of her hair and be acknowledged as a wife even though it means she must give up the fame and wealth of her life as a movie star– all is fair in love today, just as it was to Radha. A parallel to Sita’s exile in the forest can be seen in the young heroine of Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak, (To and From the Apocalypse/Till Death Do Us Part) who runs away from her wealthy family to live a hand-to-mouth existence on the edge of civilization with her sweetheart. As the formerly wealthy girl attempts to help turn an abandoned building on a rocky outcrop into a habitable home: doing hard manual labor, trying to cook for the first time, and bathing in a stream, she sings happily “What could we desire that isn't within our grasp, just so long as you're with me?...This isn't a dream anymore; this is my everything, this world of love, this tiny abode of the springtime, just as long you're with me!”
A woman’s sacrifice for her beloved is an age-old theme in Hindu mythology. Enduring such hardships is proof of her devotion and the depth of her feelings. In Veer-Zaara, the epic romance featuring a bitter-sweet, cross-cultural love affair, the woman sings of the pain she undergoes to be faithful to her absent lover during a twenty-year separation. “For your sake, I live, swallowing all my tears. For your sake, I live with my lips sealed. But in my heart, the lamp of love continues to burn, for your sake, for your sake! Life has brought with it the chronicle of days past, incomparable memories surround us now…. Look at what I desired, and what, in turn, I received…What can I say? The world has shown such ill-will to me. I'm commanded to live life, but without you. How ignorant they are, who say you are a stranger to me. How many wrongs we have been done, my love! But in my heart, the lamp of love continues to burn for your sake, for your sake!” Her life, despite her social contributions and other relationships, is incomplete and painful without him. Though men can find fulfillment in adhering to principles or forging successful careers, the only happy woman is a woman who follows her heart.
These principles are evident in the plot, characterization, and dialogue of Bollywood movies, but cinematography plays a vital role as well. In Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge, the age-old idea of a woman’s devotion to love is cinematographically evident in Simran’s struggle between conflicting forces and her ultimate decision in the final scene of the movie. The heartbroken Raj, unable to win over Simran’s father, has decided to leave without his lover in order to preserve both the traditional familial structure and his own honor. Blood-soaked after a confrontation with Simran’s fiancé, he boards a train, closely pursued by Simran and her family. As the train begins to chug away with Raj on board, gazing sorrowfully at his beloved, and Simran on the ground, struggling against the restraining hand of her father in an attempt to get on the train, both Raj and Simran react along gender roles that can be traced all the way back to mythology. Raj, unable to keep his word, must adhere to his principles and leave empty-handed. Simran, dedicated to her love above all else, must abandon her familial duties, and follow Raj. The camera follows Raj as he is symbolically carried away from Simran by the force of tradition and culture, and then zooms back to Simran, who is symbolically trapped by her emotional nature and her submissive role in society until her father lets her go, relinquishing his control over her and passing her into the care of Raj. The camera looks up and Raj (who is, as befitting a man, covered in the marks of battle) and down at Simran (who is as befitting a woman, bedecked in jewelry), denoting their respective places in the power structure.
A woman is expected to sever other relationships and throw away her convictions for her love, though a man is discouraged from making the same sacrifices. Rama banishes his wife to save face in the community, and Krishna takes thousands of other wives for political reasons. In “The Hero” a government official abandons his lover to serve his country, and in “Kisna” the protagonist leaves his true love to fulfill his duty to his community by going through with his arranged marriage. It is important to realize that these are the actions of reasonable, moral men, not heartless scoundrels. Attitudes towards them range from admiration to worship for their contributions to Hinduism, the Indian Independence movement, and national security. These are avatars and heroes whose actions Hindu men are encouraged to emulate. A woman abandoning her love for anything – country, family or religion – is unthinkable blasphemy.
Even in religious matters, the Hindu heroine’s conduit to completion is through a man. Women play a very minor role in the ceremonies and rituals of Hinduism. A woman, whose inferior gender is often attributed to misdeeds in previous births, can only reach spiritual salvation through her husband. For example, in the movie, Humko Tumse Pyaar Hai (I am in Love with You) there is a very revealing ceremony conducted at a famous temple in which a husband carries his wife up the steps of the temple to give an offering to the gods. Without the help of a man, a woman is not able or worthy conduct the ceremony herself. In the film, the heroine, Durga, has neither the ability nor the desire to make the trip up the stairs herself, depositing herself in the care of her lover. A woman’s love and service her husband brings her closer to God, and is, in many ways the best route to reach him. In fact, a woman’s husband is referred to as her God, an idea that is reinforced through rites like Karwa Chouth. Karwa Chouth is a festival where a wife fasts for the long life of her husband, as well as the opportunity to marry him again in her next life. The specifics of the ceremony are almost identical to the specifics of many other ceremonies conducted in temples for gods like Shiva, which highlights the traditional power structure of the wife as a devotee of her husband.
One thing that hasn’t changed very much is the insistence upon a woman retaining her virginity until marriage. A sexually unsullied bride is only proper. Despite the modernization and westernization of many aspects of Hindi cinema, the heroine is still a virgin when the mangalsutra (wedding necklace) is placed around her neck. A Bollywood actress may sport a sexy demeanor, wear revealing clothes, and dance provocatively, but she still protects her maidenhead at all costs. If she feels physical urges before marriage, she resists them, and if her significant other attempts to coerce her, she refuses him with righteous indignation.
A related issue concerns the plight of rape victims. Hamara Dil Aapke Pas Hai (Respectfully, Your Heart is With Me) follows the journey of a young woman, Preeti, who agrees to testify against a member of a notorious gang despite its power and influence. In retaliation, after the trial, a gang member rapes her. She is rejected by her family, condemned by her community, and thrown out of her house to wander the streets in disgrace. The neighbors try everything in their power to banish her, including publicly humiliating her and even charging her with prostitution. A wealthy, progressive gentleman who admires her courage takes her in and eventually falls in love with her. Despite her merits, everyone, including Preeti, believes she is unworthy of him. The man’s mother grudgingly admits that Preeti is a beautiful, accomplished woman and what happened to her is not her fault, but she cannot accept a daughter-in-law who has been irrevocably desecrated by rape. In the end, the mother is forced to reconsider her world view when confronted by irrefutable proof of her own husband’s sexual abuse of his female workers and her son’s unwavering commitment to Preeti. In the end, she accepts Preeti and condemns her husband. The stigma of rape, though decried by the film’s sympathetic portrayal of a good woman in a terrible situation, is still present in both India’s film and society.
Female infidelity is also taboo. Though male affairs and indiscretion are treated light-heartedly, a woman’s unfaithfulness is not a subject the Hindi film industry feels ready to confront. In movies like No Entry and Shaadi No. 1 (Wedding No. 1) a group of male friends conspire to cheat on their wives. These movies follow their comical attempts to seduce attractive younger women, slap-stick schemes to hide the truth from their wives, and understandable boredom with martial life. The moral implications of such activities are swept under the rug as the married men cavort with strippers, sweet-talk their boss’s daughters, and cozy up to clients.
Their wives (who, admittedly, are not very bright) remain blissfully ignorant of their husbands’ infidelity despite warnings from friends and indications to the contrary until confronted with clear evidence or a confession. Though at first the broken-hearted wives claim they will never forgive their wayward spouses and resign themselves to life alone, threats of suicide are always enough to bring the women around. When a husband stands on a balcony or cliff, the two favorite locations of an unfaithful husband who is professing a desire to end his life in a Bollywood movie, and threatens to throw himself off (whether or not his words are sincere) a Hindu heroine immediately begs him to come back, saying all is forgotten, and proclaims her undying love. In the end the couple embraces, and all is well with the world.
There are a very limited number of Bollywood movies that deal with female indiscretion. These movies never end with happiness and reconciliation. In Maya Memsaab (Mrs. Maya) an unfaithful wife suffers from a serious mental illness; in Hum Dil De Chuke Sanum (Straight from the Heart) an unfaithful fiancée is thrown out of her home; and even in Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna (Never Say Goodbye) which is by far the most forward-thinking of the movies, an angry husband demands a divorce after his wife confesses the truth about her extra-marital affair. None of these movies depict these situations in a humorous or trivial manner. They are undeniable betrayals with serious consequences.
III. The Development of the Independent Woman: Dancing in the Desert
However, in most films of the last twenty years, female roles have undergone significant changes. For example, though devotion to romance remains, subservience is less prevalent, In “Jab We Met” (When We Met) the heroine bullies the hero into getting her from Mumbai to Punjab and then into running away with her. A telling lyric from the song from Veer-Zaara makes it clear that in the heroine’s mind: “Whether or not anyone understands, I'll keep saying it: I'll always stay the way I am. I'm the queen of hearts, the mistress of my own desires. Why should I keep a scarf on my head? If it slips, it slips! Now, no matter whether someone is happy with me or irritated, even if we have a falling out, I'll always stay the way I am.” While the plot of Veer Zaara still conforms to the traditional modes of sacrifice, this song makes it clear that the sacrifice comes from a self-actualized woman with a clear identity, not a trampled woman with no will and no choice.
In “Ishq” (Love) the heroine initiates a full-out war with the man she eventually falls in love with, at one point humiliating him in a grocery store with tooth-paste and at another sending him on a trip in a car in which she disabled the breaks. In “Hum Tum” (Me and You) the female lead is a smart, ambitious woman who can run a business, and take care of herself and her mother, overcome opposition with her wit and nerve. Though love plays a major role in her life, she never fawns over her man. In fact, at different points in the movie she propels him around Frankfurt against his protestations and threatens to chop him up into tiny pieces and feed him to a dog after he questions her relative importance in a family.
In the film’s first song and dance sequence she pokes fun at the her male companion, singing “A disordered, meaningless, wasted way of living; and you lay a hand on your heart and swear you're different! A wet towel left on the floor, the toothpaste cap tossed aside, wearing yesterday's socks inside-out, heedless of the time! A girl teaches you the way to live. A girl makes you from a beast into a man.” She is comfortable enough with her gender and her power over men to make comments like this throughout the movie. These are not the words or actions of simpering, cowed women. The Hindu heroine has gone from demure to outspoken and from worshipful to self-actualized, therefore, her role in romantic relationships has changed accordingly.
A Hindu heroine’s newfound permission for self-actualization and self-direction is evident in another scene from Hum Tum. Reema, the female protagonist, is returning back to her native India after several years abroad, and her brother’s friend comes to pick her up from the airport. The cinematography highlights the irony in the scene between real control and the semblance of control. Her friend’s brother is driving, which usually indicates control, her mother is in the front seat, which usually indicates dominance, and Reema is in the backseat of the car, which usually indicates subservience. However, even as the man directs the car, Reema directs the tone, conversation, and outcome of the scene. The man gets increasingly flustered as Reema overturns the traditional chain of command. Even though he is driving, Reema decides where the car goes, and even though he is the host, Reema doesn’t act like a guest.
The most obvious evidence of change in the Hindu heroine’s role is the complete about face in regard to the attitude towards widows and sati. In the past there were only two proper things for a Hindu woman to do after her husband’s death. One was to throw herself on his funeral pyre in a ceremony called “sati,” and cremate herself. Burning herself alive symbolized the woman’s absolute commitment to her husband, and women who did this were regarded with much more respect after their death than they ever received during their lifetime. In the Hindu marriage ceremony, the woman follows her husband around the sacred fire until the end of the seven rounds, when she steps in front of him to symbolize her wish that death takes her before it takes him.
The other option for widows was to wear white (the color of mourning) for the rest of her life, isolate herself and surrender all earthy joys. These women were shunned and looked down upon. There were not allowed to interact with people, and considered a curse on the household. In keeping with these traditions, a Hindu woman lost herself when she lost her husband.
However, today’s heroines fight against such suicide and the social stigma of widow-hood. One recent, fairly progressive, quasi-protest film, Baabul (Father-Daughter Affection), depicts the struggle of a widow to live a normal life, be happy, and even remarry in a favorable light, something that would have been inconceivable only decades ago. After the death of her husband, the heroine is inconsolable. Her grief borders on madness, as is expected from a woman who has lost a husband she truly loves. In a less expected turn, in an attempt to rescue her from her loneliness and provide a father figure for her son, her radical in-laws encourage her to throw off her mourning and remarry. She agrees, and when the community reacts in outrage, her father-in-law delivers a rousing speech in which he condemns that cruelty and injustice.
In Dor (Thread), a young widow is confined to a life of degradation and servitude. During her husband’s life she was respected for influencing her husband’s increased productivity after the wedding, but as soon as his extended family receives word of his death she is stripped of all her worldly belongings and virtually held prisoner within the house. However, with the help of a liberal friend, she begins to accept that being happy is not being unfaithful to her husband’s memory. In the end she breaks away from her in-laws and community to forge a new life for herself and increase her own productivity. In Hum Tum, a widow is able to live a fulfilling life with her daughter, and in Veer Zaara female lawyer fights against sati. All of these are portrayed in a positive light, in stark contrast to the past’s glorification of sati.
Another cinematographically illuminating scene about the Hindu heroine that focuses on her recently developed right to life after the death of her husband takes place right before the climax of “Dor.” Meera, a recently widowed young woman in a conservative area of Rajasthan, has been gradually blossoming under the tutelage of Zeenat. For the majority of the movie, the camera emphasizes her obscurity by showing her as a small figure among the crumbling remnants of former opulence. She is always enclosed, either in her own bare room, within the walls of the compound, or simply by the duppata (long scarf) she keeps wrapped tightly around herself at all times. Her first encounter with Zeenat, the catalyst behind her transformation, it is in the least confined of the spaces she is allowed to go – the open air temple.
Right before the climax, the movie shows Meera’s physical and emotional freedom as she rediscovers simple joy. Zeenat and Meera, accompanied by an errant but friendly camel-driving fraud, take a trip into the sand dunes. For the first time, Meera has room to breathe and move. The camera swoops around the unexpected space, highlighting the lack of restriction and inhibition Meera feels as she lets herself dance for the first time since her husband’s death. The little radio blares Hindi film songs to the isolated trio as they dance in the sand. The simplicity and nature of the desert tie into Meera’s inherent womanly affinity for nature and provide a refreshing visual alternative to the stifling environment of her in-law’s ancestral mansion. Zeenat and the camel-driver join in the dancing, but Meera, rediscovering her passion, dominates the scene visually with her skill and in an auditory sense with her laughter.
Heroines in today’s films have also begun to speak out about social injustice and moral hypocrisy. They articulate the plight of religious minorities, lower-caste citizens, and most often, women. In Lajja (Shame/Modesty) the reverence towards goddesses contrasts sharply with the treatment of their devotees. In fact, the four women in this movie Maithali, Janaki, Ramdulhari, and Vaidehi all have names which are variations on the name Sita. Sita is universally honored, while her daughters are beaten, raped, and dehumanized. Throughout Lajja, the characters openly protest the dowry system, the view of women as “robots” to produce heirs, and the double standard in regards to sexual conduct. In Kuch Na Kaho (Don’t Say Anything) the leading lady denounces her husband’s behavior and the justice system’s gender-biased view of spousal abandonment. Even more shockingly, these diatribes take place in public venues such as weddings, theatrical performances, and political gatherings, not within furtive clusters of women who disperse when they fear that might be overheard. This wave of speaking out against misogyny is the complete opposite of the traditional woman’s silent acceptance of her treatment at the hands of the men in her life as her fate.
IV. Motherhood: For Her Sake
Another aspect of the Hindu heroine is her role as a wife and/or mother. Both carry different levels of power and influence within the home and the community and those levels have undergone dramatic change from ancient mythology to modern day cinema. In ancient times, the role of a mother was the most powerful role a woman could have. It was an undeniable demonstration of her power as a creator and her connection with nature. And with power comes the ability to dominate. This dangerous element made a mother feared and revered in Hindu culture as a conduit for “sakti” or “prakrti” the undifferentiated, disordered, active energy of nature. In mythology, this role was very powerful. In an interesting contrast in cinema women are often seen as preservers of culture. Women in Bollywood movies are much more likely to wear traditional Indian clothing, attend religious services, initiate prayer sessions, invoke deities, and engage in habitual Hindu idiosyncrasies than men. Wives and mothers encourage their families to revere the gods, take the blessings of elders, and put the customary red dot on their foreheads. In Humko Tumse Pyaar Hai a woman chides her lover for joking about religion, in Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham (Some Happiness, Some Sorrow) a wife sings traditional hymns and lights incense despite her husband’s irritation with the ritual, and in Salaam-e-Ishq (Salute to Love) almost all of the time the men wear jeans and a button-up shirt or a sweater while the women wear saalwar chemises.
Though the status of a mother still necessitates a certain amount of respect, oftentimes that is eclipsed in modern-day movies by the repressive drudgery of everyday motherhood. In many films, the female characters are portrayed as losing their power when they have children. The power of youth and sexuality are stolen by childbearing, and mothers are contrasted with young, thin women and found wanting. In movies such as Salaam-e-Ishq and Ankahee (Stranger) the power of a mother is pitted against the power of a mistress, and the temptation of the mistress prevails against the man’s devotion to his wife and the mother of his children. Sometimes these same women replace mothers when it comes to the affection and loyalty of their sons. Additionally, many woman are portrayed are feeling cut off from the world after becoming mothers. Some are bitter are after giving up their careers, some feel isolated from their former friends.
On the other hand, the level of respect that parents are given is still much higher than that which is accorded to them in the western world. The movie Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham, has a tagline that says “It’s all about loving your parents” and throughout the film a mother’s love is glorified – almost deified. A mother is still the provider of unconditional love and acceptance. Though in many cases a father’s respect must be won, the mother’s support regardless of the circumstances is an unspoken but widely understood and accepted phenomenon. An example of this is prevalence of swearing on a mother. Oftentimes heroes will swear on their mothers when called upon to make an oath of truth, dedication, or fidelity. A hero will be called on to use his mother’s head, life, or honor as the basis of his vow. Sometimes, he will be called upon to make a moral decision or engage in a heroic act for his mother’s sake. The theme of the persistence and depth of a mother’s love can be found throughout the Bollywood film industry, from Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham, in which a mother’s love for her absent son brings him back home after a decade aboard, to films such as “Karan Arjun” in which a mother’s love and faith brings about the reincarnation of her murdered sons.
One of the most memorable scenes in “Karan Arjun” depicts the mother, coated with blood, dirt and sweat, tearing into the temple of the goddess Durga. She falls at the feet of Durga’s statue and begs for her sons’ lives. She says that Durga, as a mother, can’t possibly “destroy another mother’s womb” and proceeds to smash her own head against a rock, weeping and bleeding, in a visceral display of dedication and sorrow. The next scene shows the birth of two boys, her reincarnated sons, interspersed with snippets of the mother, whose blood and pain in Durga’s temple parallel the process of childbirth. The mother had the right to appeal to the Goddess on the grounds of their shared position as mothers and even influence divine intervention.
V: The Future: Tomorrow’s Heroine
Bollywood’s current portrayals of daughters, sisters, mothers, and wives are more nuanced and socially aware than the depictions given in ancient texts, despite the continued prevalence of female stereotypes and archetypes in cinema. Bollywood is inching its way into an era of sexual liberation and empowerment for women, but will inevitably retain some of the restrictions that, for Indians, are inextricably linked with patriotism and national identity. The appetite for women-centered movies is growing as the theories and practices of female empowerment begin to have an undeniable effect on the population. Increasingly large numbers of educated women with a new set of standards for their on-screen counterparts are filling the movie theatres and rising in the ranks of the film industry itself. The change in Hindu heroines, particularly in regards to their ambition, determination, and advocacy, will also be fueled by the escalating desire of modern filmmakers to create politically conscious films that spark change and thought. Though choreographed song and dance sequences, mythological qualities, and other distinctive aspects of Indian cinema will continue to be permanent fixtures in the genre, Bollywood’s characterization of women will develop progressively more western characteristics and embody multi-cultural values.
She who has come into my dreams time and time again,
my heart has faith in her...
She'll come one day, my love…
I'll devote my life to her.
My heart is confident of it.
-Andaaz (Secret)
