Mumtaz Recalls Rajesh Khanna’s ‘Aashirwad’ with Emotion: “It Was a Monument, Not Just a House”

Few stars have commanded the kind of love that Mumtaz did at the peak of her career. In the late 1960s and 70s, she wasn’t just popular—she was adored.

With her effortless screen presence, expressive eyes, and infectious charm, she became the heartbeat of mainstream Hindi cinema.

From lighthearted romances to emotionally layered roles, Mumtaz brought a warmth that connected instantly with audiences.

Even today, decades later, that affection hasn’t faded; she remains one of the most cherished faces of Indian cinema.

So when she speaks about the past, it’s never just nostalgia—it carries the weight of lived memories.

In a recent conversation, Mumtaz opened up about something that still tugs at her heart: the fate of Aashirwad bungalow, once home to the legendary Rajesh Khanna.

Her voice softened as she spoke about it.

“It did hurt me,” she admitted. “Even today, when I pass by and see that building, I say to myself—this was my hero’s house.”

For her, Aashirwad wasn’t just a property; it was a landmark of emotions, a place that held countless memories. “It was like a monument,” she said, choosing her words carefully.

Mumtaz’s connection to the bungalow was deeply personal. Her own home on Carter Road—once owned by Meena Kumari—stood just a short distance away. That closeness meant frequent visits, easy conversations, and a sense of belonging.

She fondly remembered the warmth she received there, especially from Rajesh Khanna and his then partner Anju Mahendru.

“When Anju was with him, she would call me over and make me sit,” Mumtaz recalled with a smile in her voice.

“Even when I got engaged to Mayur, I would take him along. Kaka and Anju would take such good care of us—always insisting, ‘Have this, eat that.’ That’s how large-hearted people in our industry were.”

There was once talk, she said, of preserving Aashirwad as a museum—a tribute to the first superstar of Hindi cinema.

“That was the dream,” she reflected. “That after he passed away, it would become a museum. But I don’t know why it was eventually sold.”

She chose not to dwell on speculation. “I’ve heard there were internal issues, but when you don’t know the truth, it’s better not to comment,” she added with quiet restraint.

What stands out most in her recollections is not just the place, but the relationships.

Mumtaz describes herself as someone who forms lifelong bonds. “I’m very emotional,” she said simply. “When I love someone or become friends, it’s forever. I was very close to Anju and Kaka.”

Her memories also extend to the working dynamic she shared with Rajesh Khanna—one that balanced professionalism with understanding.

Known for his habit of arriving late on set, Khanna could have tested anyone’s patience. But Mumtaz saw it differently.

“I knew he would come late,” she said candidly, “but I also knew he would finish his work.”

Rather than let it disrupt her, she adapted. Directors would shoot her solo scenes first. She would carefully plan her performance—sometimes even discussing whether to pitch a scene high or low—before wrapping up her portions.

“Then when he came, we would do the combined shots,” she explained. “After that, my work was done. I would even tell him, ‘My close-ups are finished, now you do your part—I’m leaving.’”

There were disagreements, of course. “Yes, we argued sometimes,” she admitted. “But I adjusted a lot.”

That balance—of grace, practicality, and emotional depth—perhaps defines Mumtaz both on and off screen.

And as she looks back, it’s clear that for her, the memories tied to Aashirwad are not just about a house that once stood tall, but about a time when relationships, stardom, and human warmth all lived under one roof.