Smooth criminal: Poonam Saxena on the charm of Ajit, the unusual villain

White suits, slicked-back hair, posh parties... and those endearingly silly one-liners – there really hasn’t been another bad guy quite like him.

Here’s a 25-year-old “Ajit joke”:

You likely know the lines, even if you don’t know the name. “Mona Darling.” “Lily, don’t be silly.” Those were both Ajit.

Henchman Robert: Boss, sona kahan hai?

Ajit: Raabert, kahin par bhi so jao.

I can’t remember when I heard my first such quip but this remains one of my favourites.

I don’t think any other Hindi film villain has had this kind of mini-industry of affectionate quips built around them. Of course, the jokes had to be narrated with his specific slow drawl or they wouldn’t work.

In the wake of his 27th death anniversary (Ajit died on October 22, 1998; aged 76), I want to remember this actor whose style and dialogue delivery as a Bollywood bad guy made him such a popular comic icon.

His onscreen persona, of white suits, carefully-combed-back hair, cigar and distinctive accent, seemed designed for mimicry. The delightful absurdity was heightened by add-ons of elaborate jewellery, and a flashy lifestyle that often saw him lounging by pools, in a bathrobe, wearing sunglasses and sipping a drink. Even his son Shehzad Khan mimicked him, in tribute, when he played the villain’s sidekick in Andaz Apna Apna (1994).

Ajit was born Hamid Ali Khan, in Hyderabad. His father Bashir Ali Khan was a veterinary officer with the Nizam of Hyderabad’s army, looking after the horses. He wanted his son to join the army too, but Hamid had different ideas. In 1943, aged 21, he ran away to Bombay to be an actor. There followed the usual story of struggle. He worked as an extra and did odd jobs to support himself. Eventually, he did end up being cast. He even played Prince Salim’s loyal friend Durjan Singh in the classic Mughal-e-Azam (1960).

His big break, however, came with his turn as Teja in Amitabh Bachchan’s 1973 breakout hit, Zanjeer. Writers Salim-Javed created a new kind of villain here: urbane, nonchalant, unflappable. Teja didn’t laugh evilly, make grotesque faces or scream orders at underlings. He dined at five-star hotels, drove imported cars and played billiards.

Highly unusually, he was also a one-woman man. His voluptuous girlfriend Mona (Bindu), who he only ever called Mona Darling, was the one he partied with, spent his leisure time with and, rather unexpectedly, played chess with.

My favourite Ajit scene is from Zanjeer. The righteous Inspector Vijay (Bachchan) stalks out of jail (where he had been held on trumped-up charges engineered by Teja) and turns up at the fancy restaurant where the villain and Mona are having a candlelit dinner. Vijay slides, intimidatingly, into a chair across from them and growls, “Main aa gaya hoon, Teja.” Ajit looks up from his soup unruffled and says: “Helloooo…”

“Michael tum cycle pe jao”: Jaaved Jaaferi mimicked the actor in a series of TV commercials for Maggi’s hot and sweet chilli sauce.

“Teja was a villain who had this façade of a respectable hotelier, a man who threw ritzy parties. He was confident, and didn’t waste words or emotions. He was always courteous,” says Balaji Vittal, author of Pure Evil: The Bad Men of Bollywood (2021). “Ajit’s career was going nowhere. Zanjeer was a big break for him.”

The actor would have another great success that year: Yaadon ki Baaraat (also written by Salim-Javed), where he played a ruthless smuggler and killer named Shakhaal. He spoke softly and wore a blond wig, white suits, black gloves and oddly sized shoes (an 8 and a 9).

Three years later came Kalicharan, in which he played a villain again: by day, the wealthy and respectable Din Dayal; by night, the crime lord known as Lion.

In yet another scene that would spark countless riffs, spoofs and parodies, he stands in a bandhgala and long pearl necklace, before an imposing portrait of himself with a tiger, and says: “Saara sheher mujhe Loin ke naam se jaanta hai.”

“Loin”, the word alone, remains a joke, when said the way he said it.

How did the quips originate?

Journalist Iqbal Rizvi, author of a biography titled Ajit the Lion (2022), suggests that it began with the comedian Jaaved Jaaferi, who replicated the actor’s voice and style in an ad-libbed line for a 1980s Parle-G commercial (“Maal laaye ho?”) Jaaferi went on to mimic the villain in ads for Maggi’s hot and sweet chilli sauce (along with actor Pankaj Kapur; wearing a white suit, Jaaferi spoke many of Ajit’s popular lines in the actor’s customary drawl, from “Michael tum cycle pe jao” to “Lily, don’t be silly”).

References to Ajit continue to surface. In Tamasha (2015), Deepika Padukone and Ranbir Kapoor meet in Corsica and decide to keep their real identities a secret from each other. “I’m Mona Darling and I work with Teja,” she says. He takes the cue. He’s Don, waiting for Teja’s sona, he adds.

In his book, Rizvi writes about how the many jokes based on his character and his lines were a spontaneous phenomenon, something like today’s memes.

I’m going to end with another favourite: “Isko Hamlet treatment de do… to-be se not-to-be ho jayega.” You just have to laugh at that.

(To reach Poonam Saxena with feedback, email poonamsaxena3555@gmail.com. The views expressed are personal)