24/11/2025
Today feels strange. Like a piece of my childhood quietly walked away.
Dharmendra wasn’t just an actor on a screen — he was a whole era.
As kids, we didn’t know anything about cinema or craft… we just knew there was this larger-than-life (HE) man who could fight ten people, throw a punch that echoed, and still smile like a soft breeze right after.
Back then, he was the definition of “macho” for us. The sleeveless shirts, the raw intensity, the attitude that didn’t need dialogues to speak. We grew up thinking this is what a warrior hero looks like.
Only later in life, when I stumbled across his old films, did realise there was another Dharmendra long before the He-Man — a tender, impossibly handsome romantic hero who didn’t need action scenes to win hearts. He just showed up, looked at the heroine with those gentle eyes, and the scene was already complete.
And beyond both versions — the romantic and the rugged — was the man. A man who stayed rooted, who carried Punjab in his voice even after decades of stardom, who raised his children with warmth, who never behaved like someone the world worshipped.
He lived the kind of life where superstars come and go, but legends stay.
So yes… today hurts a little.
Because it’s not just Dharmendra the actor who has gone. It’s the end of a style, a charm, a masculinity that didn’t need noise, a simplicity that didn’t need validation.
Thank you for the memories, Veeru .
Thank you for teaching us that strength can be loud — and also gentle.
Om Shanti Dharmendra Ji 🙏🙏🙏💐
Some stars never fade — they just stop needing the spotlight. 💔✨
