I am not a movie writer, having tread mostly on the harsher lines of business journalism that deals with balance sheets, figures and personal finance. But yes, Hrishikesh Mukherjee's movies, I love. And the list is damn long.

So this would be more of emotional blabbering rather than a piece about his achievements or failures. For there is something I could never understand. While I agree that social films (like the ones Hrishida made) should be reflective of the times they represent, ultimately they happen to be movies.

Watching news anchors delving hard into each word, dialogue and expression, trying to pin down that one 'point' a Hrishikesh Mukherjee-film is supposed to make, is extremely annoying. Does anyone think Chupke Chupke had a point? Or Gol Maal? Or for that matter, Guddi?

Hrishikeshda's brilliance lay in the fact that you could identify yourself with his films. Like Dharmendra's nursing his injured pride when faced with "Mere jijajee yeh…" in Chupke Chupke. Or a desperate Amol Palekar spinning a web of lies in Golmaal. Even the entry of Anand — dying, but with a zest for life — was wonderful. But the idea behind it all was simply to get you hooked to a story. The rest was just a movie.

Of course, intellectuals would claim otherwise. That Guddi reflected an era where college girls were madly in love with film stars (they still are, so are the boys). But the solution — Dharmendra at his charming best, at the behest of Utpal Dutt — was surely not an attempt to reflect reality? Similarly, can you imagine a cheat on the lines of an Amol Palekar in Golmaal? He would perhaps be sacked or jailed, not rewarded with the hand of the boss's daughter.

But then Hrishikesh Mukherjee's films were not meant to drive home a point or offer solutions. They were excellent movies meant simply to entertain.

They were simply great movies that you watch even today, often staying up late (because channels like Sahara show it very late) and then sleeping with a smile.

I remember sitting in movie halls in Patna, crying for the nth time as Anand lay dead with Dr. Bhaskar screaming, "Chey mahine se mera dimag kha rahe raho …". And then the tape starts, "Babumoshai, zindagi aur maut…." And half the hall would be howling around me. Some would be throwing money at the screen (yes, people do reflect emotions in different ways).

And hence I am bored, in fact disgusted when channels or the print media, in their obituaries, try to find a meaning, or establish a point and as a result, ruin it all. One channel wanted to examine if the Indian Middle Class had changed, another wanted to examine if actors today are still as good. In fact, asked who she felt could carry forward Hrishikeshda's legacy, Sharmila Tagore's choice was Gulzar. I don't think so. Not at his age. It is time someone took forward Gulzar's legacy.

To me, Hrishikeshda was one of the few directors who got you hooked on to the characters at the outset and the rest was history. That is great movie-making.

Today, one is more hooked on to aspirations. You wish you were as rich as Shahrukh Khan in K3G so that you could walk away from home (thrown out, actually) and still have a thriving business in London, whatever that business is.

In other words, it is like window shopping. I aspire to have those suits, those damn watches, those palaces, those fast cars…

Thank you Hrisikeshda for "Babumoshai… zindagi aur maut upar wale ke haath hain…" and not by prolonging the scene in some filthy rich hospital that I cannot afford. God bless his soul.