A Personal Tribute
There are legends who entertain us, and then there are legends who become part of who we are.
For me — for countless Punjabis, for every Bollywood lover — Dharmendra was both.
I still remember sitting cross-legged on the floor in my grandparents’ home in Punjab, watching him on our small TV. The picture wasn’t clear, but he was. Broad-shouldered, warm-eyed, with a presence that reached through the screen and made you feel you knew him. Even as a child, I understood: this man is different. This was not just an actor — this was a personality carved out of the soil of Punjab itself.
A Son of Punjab Who Carried His Roots Everywhere
Dharmendra never needed to pretend to be earthy or humble — he was that. Born in a farming family, raised with values we Punjabis recognise instantly: honesty, warmth, loyalty, and a quiet dignity.
Even after reaching unimaginable stardom in Mumbai, he carried Punjab in his heartbeat. You heard it in his voice, saw it in his laughter, felt it in every role where he played a man of principle, pride, and strength.
For Punjabis, especially boys growing up in the 80s and 90s, he wasn’t just a film star —
he was a symbol of what it meant to be strong but soft-hearted.
A Career That Defined the Very Language of Indian Cinema
“Sholay” made him immortal. “Yaadon Ki Baaraat,” “Seeta Aur Geeta,” “Phool Aur Patthar,” “Anupama,” “Chupke Chupke,” “Dost” — the list goes on endlessly.
He was the rare balance of:
• A romantic hero
• A comic genius
• A powerful action star
• A dramatic performer with incredible intensity
And even as Bollywood evolved, he remained a constant — a bridge between generations.
Meeting Him — and the Warmth Behind the Legend
I had the privilege of meeting Dharmendra ji. Later, I met his two sons as well, and some of my very close friends were connected to him. What stood out wasn’t fame — but warmth.
He greeted people like he had known them forever. No arrogance, no distance — just pure Punjabi affection.
Even at that age, his eyes had the same softness I remembered from my childhood screenings.
You understand a man better when you meet the people closest to him — and his sons carried that same humility and grace. That tells you who the father really was.
Beyond Cinema — A Man of Heart
He served as a Member of Parliament, but what mattered more was who he was outside the public eye.
People who met him always said the same thing:
“He never changed.”
He never lost his innocence, his humour, or the sense of belonging he felt towards ordinary people.
He was relatable. Approachable. Warm.
In a world full of carefully curated celebrity personas, his authenticity was rare and unforgettable.
What We Lost — and What We Still Carry
When a legend passes, the news says “a star has died.”
But for many of us, something deeper happens —
a part of our childhood quietly slips away.
Dharmendra’s passing isn’t just the end of a career.
It’s the end of an era — an era of gentleness, simplicity, true heroism, and unfiltered charm.
But legends don’t disappear.
They live in:
• stories told by our parents
• memories of evenings spent with family watching his films
• the next generation discovering “Veeru” for the first time
• the warmth he left behind in every life he touched
A Final Goodbye to Our Dharam Ji
As I write this, from Europe, far from the lanes of Punjab where his films shaped my imagination, I feel an unexpected heaviness. It’s not just grief — it’s gratitude.
Thank you, Dharam ji,
for being the hero who never needed special effects,
for being the man who taught us strength could be gentle,
for giving us an identity to look up to,
for filling our childhood with magic,
and for living a life that will be remembered forever.
Rest in peace, Dharmendra ji.
Your story is not over.
It lives in us.