To make a movie about three lecherous old men salivating at every woman and girl who has the misfortune of falling within their eyesight was indeed a courageous thing to do back in the 1980s, or in any era that we have seen, for that matter; particularly so in India. That’s because we have never been comfortable with lust and advancing age. To us, lust has always been the unplanned thing that sparks by sheer accident between two young people genuinely in love on a dark, rainy night against the backdrop of thunder and lightning with fire burning bright somewhere. Lust is what is apologetically permissible between loving couples. Lust without love manifested its villainy in the likes of Shaki Kapoor and Prem Chopra trying to lay their dirty hands on women. Heroes insisted on drowning in the oceanic eyes and losing themselves in the lush tresses. Old age has had nothing to do with heroic love; only with villainous lust.
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