Gulzar, one of Indian cinema’s most revered storytellers, possesses a distinctive voice as a screenplay writer, separate from his celebrated directorial work. As the month of August ends, we leave behind Gulzar’s 91st birthday and Shantanu Ray Chaudhuri celebrates his screenwriting brilliance.

Gulzar’s genius as a screenplay writer goes far beyond his acclaimed directorial work. From Guddi and Namak Haraam to Masoom and New Delhi Times, his scripts reveal unmatched emotional depth, cultural authenticity, and psychological insight. As August closes, celebrating his 91st birthday, we rediscover his enduring legacy.

Gulzar, one of Indian cinema’s most revered storytellers, possesses a distinctive voice as a screenplay writer, separate from his celebrated directorial work. His screenplays are marked by an exceptional sensitivity to human emotions, poetic subtlety, and a deep understanding of relationships. Whether adapting literary works or crafting original narratives, Gulzar brings a literary finesse and psychological depth to his writing that transcends the conventional boundaries of Hindi cinema.

He has an uncanny ability to distil complex emotional experiences into scenes of quiet power, often using minimal dialogue and layered imagery. His scripts are often infused with lyrical realism – where everyday life meets metaphor – and this poetic sensibility sets him apart. Gulzar is known for exploring themes of loss, memory, love, and socio-political unrest with restraint and insight, never compromising on nuance.

Moreover, his skill lies in writing characters that are deeply human – flawed, vulnerable, and relatable. His screenplays reflect his command over structure, mood, and character psychology. Even when not directing, his writing enriches the film’s emotional landscape and brings a quiet elegance to its storytelling. Gulzar’s screenplays resonate long after the film ends, testament to the enduring power of his written word.

Here’s ten of his best screenplays in films he did not direct. I exclude Anand from the list for entirely personal reasons that require another feature.

Guddi (1971)

While Guddi is primarily known as a Hrishikesh Mukherjee film, Gulzar’s screenplay plays a crucial role in shaping its meta-narrative. The film deconstructs the Hindi film industry’s glamour through the eyes of a star-struck schoolgirl, and Gulzar cleverly uses this premise to challenge the illusions of stardom. His writing lends warmth and maturity to what could have been a didactic tale. He balances satire with sensitivity, making the transition of the protagonist believable and affecting. Gulzar also captures the small-town milieu with affectionate realism – parents, teachers, friends all feel lived-in. The self-referential structure, showcasing Dharmendra as himself, is subtly handled, never tipping into gimmickry. It’s Gulzar’s skill that keeps the story grounded, allowing it to critique cinema while still celebrating its magic. His genre-blending – part coming-of-age, part social commentary, part love letter to cinema – demonstrates his ability to transcend narrative conventions.

Mehboob Ki Mehndi (1971)

In Mehboob Ki Mehndi, Gulzar imbues what could have been a standard romantic drama with a layered script rooted in inner conflict and restrained expression. Set in a traditional Lucknow milieu, the film explores themes of identity, love, and societal expectations. Gulzar crafts characters who are not just lovers but individuals negotiating with personal trauma and inherited constraints. His dialogues are poetic yet precise, elevating the emotional stakes without tipping into melodrama. By focusing on subtext – the silences, the pauses, and the longing – he gives the love story a quiet dignity. His skill lies in lending a lyrical cadence to everyday emotions, making the narrative feel timeless. The film might seem conventional on the surface, but Gulzar’s writing infuses it with psychological realism and cultural authenticity, pushing it beyond the realm of formulaic romance.

Namak Haraam (1973)

In Namak Haraam (1973), Gulzar’s brilliance as a screenplay writer shines through his nuanced portrayal of friendship, class conflict, and ideological awakening. Imagine adapting Becket – a play set during twelfth-century England dealing with the relationship of King Henry II and his friend-turned-bishop Thomas Becket – into a screenplay that debates capitalism and socialism in 1970s India. Collaborating with director Hrishikesh Mukherjee, Gulzar crafted a screenplay that skilfully blends personal emotion with political undertones. The story follows the transformation of Somu (Rajesh Khanna), who enters a worker’s world initially as a ruse to avenge a friend, but gradually becomes a voice for the oppressed.

Gulzar’s writing is marked by its emotional depth and quiet realism. He builds characters with care, allowing them to evolve naturally. His dialogues are subtle yet impactful, avoiding overt dramatization while still delivering powerful commentary on labour rights, privilege, and loyalty. The tension between Somu and Vicky (Amitabh Bachchan) is not just personal but symbolic of the larger divide between the working class and the elite.

What sets Gulzar’s screenplay apart is his ability to humanize political discourse. He avoids propaganda and instead tells a deeply human story that resonates on multiple levels. Namak Haraam stands as a testament to Gulzar’s talent for weaving social consciousness into compelling drama, making it one of the most memorable films of 1970s’ Hindi cinema.

Chupke Chupke (1975)

In Chupke Chupke, Gulzar demonstrates his comedic brilliance, proving that wit and intelligence need not be sacrificed for laughs. Collaborating with Hrishikesh Mukherjee, he crafts a farcical plot around mistaken identities and academic one-upmanship, but the real triumph lies in the texture of the language. Gulzar revels in linguistic play, especially the satire around Hindi vs English, creating humour that is rooted in cultural and intellectual contexts. His characters, while eccentric, are always believable. The humour is sophisticated yet accessible, avoiding slapstick in favour of character-driven comedy. Through this, he elevates the film from being just a screwball comedy to a clever social satire. Gulzar’s grasp on rhythm and timing ensures that every dialogue lands perfectly, and his love for language enriches every scene. Chupke Chupke thus becomes not just a comedy but a celebration of intellect, disguise, and harmless rebellion.

Faraar (1975)

Gulzar’s contribution as a screenplay writer in Faraar stands out for its psychological depth and emotional nuance, rare for crime thrillers of the era. While the film follows the suspenseful story of a fugitive (played by Amitabh Bachchan) who takes refuge in a police officer’s home, Gulzar elevates it beyond a standard cat-and-mouse chase. His screenplay deftly explores themes of moral conflict, personal loss, and human vulnerability, particularly through the triangular tension between the fugitive, the cop, and the woman they both love.
Gulzar’s hallmark lies in his ability to infuse lyrical sensitivity even in taut, high-stakes scenarios. The dialogue is restrained yet impactful, allowing silences and expressions to carry emotional weight. The character arcs are layered, particularly the fugitive’s tragic descent, which evokes empathy rather than judgement. He also weaves in subtle critiques of the justice system and fate, avoiding melodrama in favour of introspection.

What truly sets Faraar apart is how Gulzar humanizes every player in the narrative, refusing to draw clear lines between hero and villain. His screenplay turns a thriller into a poignant meditation on guilt, love, and redemption, traits that have come to define his legacy in Indian cinema.

Palkon Ki Chhaon Mein (1977)

Gulzar’s writing in Palkon Ki Chhaon Mein, directed by his long-time associate Meraj, reflects his recurring fascination with loneliness, fleeting connections, and unsaid emotions. The film’s rural postman protagonist, played by Rajesh Khanna, becomes a vessel for Gulzar’s meditation on belonging and emotional distance. Gulzar infuses the narrative with a sense of poignancy by focusing on the everyday yet profound interactions that define human life. Instead of sensationalizing the rural backdrop, he renders it with quiet authenticity. The screenplay subtly weaves in social commentary, particularly on the emotional isolation experienced even in community-centric lives. Gulzar’s restrained, empathetic approach transforms this modest love story into a poetic observation of longing and loss. His ability to gently nudge the narrative beyond the predictable romantic arc marks his unique contribution. His characters don’t just fall in love; they reflect, wait, and sometimes, miss their chance entirely.

Griha Pravesh (1979)

In Griha Pravesh, Gulzar tackled themes of marital ennui, infidelity, and rediscovery with remarkable maturity and restraint. Collaborating with Basu Bhattacharya, who had a penchant for didactic and often long-winded expositions, Gulzar pens a screenplay that is stripped of theatrics, focusing instead on internal tensions and unspoken grievances. His writing gives space to the silences between husband and wife, using everyday domesticity to convey emotional drift. Unlike typical portrayals of extramarital affairs in Indian cinema, Gulzar eschews judgement. He is more interested in the emotional truths behind betrayal. His dialogues are subtle yet profound, often reflective rather than confrontational. He paints love not as a grand gesture but as something fragile, lived in gestures of routine. The film avoids melodrama entirely, thanks to Gulzar’s grounded characters and psychologically astute script. His contribution ensures the film is not just about a failed marriage, but also about the possibility of redemption, making it feel more like poetry in motion than a moral fable.

Basera (1980)

In Basera, Gulzar’s contribution as a screenplay writer is one of nuanced restraint, a key reason the film transcends the melodramatic trappings it could have easily succumbed to. Centred around a woman who awakens from a long bout of mental illness to find life irrevocably changed – her husband now married to her sister – the story walks a delicate emotional tightrope. It could have easily become a maudlin tearjerker, but Gulzar infuses it with psychological depth and empathy.

His screenplay respects silence as much as dialogue, capturing the unspoken pain and moral dilemmas of each character. With subtle gestures and layered scenes, he allows the emotional turmoil to unfold organically, avoiding overwrought dramatics. The film also stands out as a rare collaboration with his wife, Raakhee, who delivers a haunting performance. Gulzar writes her character not as a victim, but as a dignified presence whose return challenges the very notion of familial and emotional equilibrium.

His writing elevates Basera from a conventional domestic drama into a poignant exploration of love, duty, and identity, one where every character is quintessentially human in their contradictions. In Basera, Gulzar’s pen softens the blows of fate with compassion and emotional intelligence.

Masoom (1983)

With Masoom, Gulzar crafts one of Indian cinema’s most emotionally nuanced family dramas. Shekhar Kapur’s direction finds its backbone in Gulzar’s deeply empathetic screenplay, adapted from Erich Segal’s Man, Woman and Child. Gulzar’s treatment is quintessentially Indian. He softens the harsher edges of betrayal and focuses instead on emotional reconciliation. The characters, especially the wronged wife (Shabana Azmi), are drawn with psychological precision and dignity. Gulzar resists easy sentimentalism; instead, he builds a slow-burning emotional arc that culminates in catharsis. His dialogues are sparse, poignant, and filled with moral complexity. He allows space for silence, for grief, for small gestures to carry meaning. Gulzar’s screenplay transcends the genre of ‘family drama’ by making it a meditation on guilt, forgiveness, and parental love. Also of note are the totally adorable child actors. Hindi cinema has long been known for burdening its child actors with an unnatural seriousness, often stripping them of their child-like qualities. In Masoom, however, the children feel authentic and alive, a testament to Gulzar’s deep understanding of a child’s psychology. It is this moral sophistication that makes Masoom enduring and emotionally devastating.

New Delhi Times (1986)

Gulzar’s role as the screenplay writer here is pivotal in crafting one of Hindi cinema’s most incisive political thrillers. The film, directed by Ramesh Sharma and starring Shashi Kapoor and Sharmila Tagore, delves deep into the murky intersection of journalism, politics, and corruption. Gulzar’s screenplay is taut, intelligent, and remarkably ahead of its time, eschewing melodrama for realism and moral complexity.

His writing brings a layered depth to the protagonist, a principled newspaper editor navigating a landscape rife with political manipulation and ethical compromise. Gulzar, known for his poetic sensibility, uses sharp, economical dialogue that captures the crackling tension of newsroom decisions and backroom political dealings. His understanding of media ethics, power dynamics, and the price of truth gives the film a chilling relevance that endures.

Unlike mainstream thrillers of the era, New Delhi Times doesn’t offer easy resolutions or heroic posturing. Instead, Gulzar’s screenplay builds a nuanced narrative where truth is elusive, and integrity comes at a personal cost. The result is a gripping, sophisticated thriller that still stands as a benchmark in Indian political cinema. New Delhi Times remains a rare Hindi film that got both the newsroom and the thriller just right. A testament to Gulzar’s mastery of the screenplay.