His last words echoed his most famous role
In a blog tribute written shortly after Khanna's death, Amitabh Bachchan — his co-star and close friend from Anand — revealed that a person close to Khanna had shared his final words with him: "Time ho gaya hai, pack up" ("It's time, pack up"). The line struck a haunting parallel with Anand itself, where Khanna's character delivers his final line as just two words — "Babu Moshai" — before passing away on screen. Bachchan wrote that acting alongside Khanna in that film had felt like a blessing, describing something almost regal in his co-star's boyish plainness that drew people to him.

Before superstardom, an unlikely nickname
Long before he was Bollywood's first Superstar, Khanna was reportedly dismissed by some as a "faaltu hero" — a nobody — because of his unconventional looks by the industry's standards of the time. That changed dramatically through the 1970s, when he strung together a run of consecutive hit films rarely matched before or since, earning nicknames like "Kaka" and the "Pasha of Passion" along the way.

A pay grade shared only with one man
Khanna was India's highest-paid actor from 1970 to 1979. He shared that distinction with Amitabh Bachchan — the same actor who'd go on to eclipse him — from 1980 to 1987, as the industry's "angry young man" era gradually took over from Khanna's romantic-hero years.

His first film nearly represented India at the Oscars
Khanna's debut, Aakhri Khat (1966), was chosen as India's official entry for the Academy Awards in 1967, though it didn't make the final shortlist.

Off-screen life beyond the movies
Khanna married actress Dimple Kapadia in 1973; the two separated years later but never formally divorced. He's also the father-in-law of actor Akshay Kumar, who is married to Khanna's daughter Twinkle Khanna. Beyond films, Khanna served as a Member of Parliament from New Delhi from 1992 to 1996 on a Congress ticket, and was posthumously honoured with the Padma Bhushan in 2013.

A friendship the industry still talks about
His bond with Amitabh Bachchan, forged on the sets of Anand and Namak Haram, remained one of Hindi cinema's most enduring off-screen friendships, one that outlasted the industry's shift away from Khanna and toward Bachchan as its defining leading man.

Fourteen years on, the line that defined Anand still gets quoted every time his death anniversary comes around: "Zindagi badi honi chahiye, lambi nahi" — life should be big, not necessarily long. For an actor who packed more stardom into a single decade than most manage in a lifetime, it's hard to find a better epitaph.

On Raj Kapoor’s death anniversary, revisit his little-known wedding to Krishna Malhotra in Rewa, MP, and how the city remains tied to the Kapoor family.

As India remembers the “Showman” of Hindi cinema Raj Kapoor on his death anniversary today, few recall that the legendary actor-filmmaker’s wedding procession did not wind through Mumbai’s streets but arrived in a modest town in Madhya Pradesh’s Vindhya region.

It was May 1946. Raj Kapoor, then a rising star, married Krishna Malhotra in Rewa – a city more famous for its white tigers than film industry weddings. The ceremony took place at a government bungalow belonging to Krishna’s father, Karta Nath Malhotra, who served as Inspector General of Police in the Vindhya region.

The event remained a quiet but significant chapter in the Kapoor family’s history, often overshadowed by the actor’s larger-than-life screen persona.

Wedding at the IG’s bungalow

According to historical accounts, Malhotra was posted in Rewa at the time of the wedding. The government bungalow, where the couple exchanged vows, became the unlikely venue for what would later be remembered as one of Bollywood’s most enduring marriages.

The ceremony was a low-key affair by industry standards, but locally it created quite a stir. “In those days, a wedding of this scale was unheard of in Rewa,” says a local resident familiar with the city’s oral history. Sources confirm that the bungalow still stands, though it has undergone renovations over the decades.

Krishna Malhotra, who later became known as Krishna Raj Kapoor, remained Rewa’s connection to the Kapoor dynasty for the rest of her life.

Auditorium named after Krishna Raj Kapoor

Decades later, Rewa chose to honour that bond. The city constructed the ‘Krishna Raj Kapoor Auditorium’ – a facility now used for cultural programmes, government events and industrial gatherings. It stands as a physical reminder of the family’s link to central India.

When Rishi Kapoor passed away in 2020, national media revisited Rewa’s historical association with the Kapoors. The auditorium became a gathering point for local tributes. For Rewa’s residents, the building is more than just infrastructure; it is a symbol of an unlikely but cherished connection to Bollywood royalty.

A daughter named after Rewa

Locals have long circulated another fascinating detail. It is believed that Raj Kapoor and Krishna named their daughter Reema Jain after the city of Rewa. The story, passed down through generations, reflects the couple’s deep affection for the town where their married life began.

Whether entirely accurate or embellished by time, the anecdote survives in Rewa’s collective memory. Ask any elderly resident, and they will narrate it with pride – a small-town claim to a piece of cinema history.

Rewa’s pride beyond white tigers

Rewa is globally known for the introduction of white tigers and its royal heritage. But the Raj Kapoor wedding chapter adds a different flavour to its identity – one that intersects with the golden era of Hindi cinema.

Raj Kapoor, through films like Awara, Shree 420, Barsaat, Sangam and Mera Naam Joker, gave voice to the common man’s struggles while taking Indian cinema to international audiences. His songs remain hugely popular in Russia and other countries even today.

That such a towering figure chose Rewa for one of the most personal milestones of his life continues to be a matter of pride for the city. On his death anniversary, as film buffs pay tribute to the showman, Rewa quietly remembers the baraat that came to its streets nearly eight decades ago.