Through life, death, and everything in between, Raj Kapoor portrayed the spirit of India’s working class like no one else ever could.
During the Cold War, the Soviet Union restricted access to American cinema and instead promoted films from allied nations like India. It was in this environment that Raj Kapoor’s films found a devoted audience, gaining immense popularity across the USSR—so much so that he became more adored than many local stars. But his appeal wasn’t just about his magnetic screen presence or memorable songs. What truly connected with Soviet viewers was the heart of his cinema: the working class. Kapoor’s films championed themes of social justice, class struggle, and the everyday dignity of the common man—values that closely aligned with socialist ideals. Watch any of his classics and you’ll see that beneath the melodrama, music, and grandeur lies an honest and powerful portrait of India in the years following independence. With the utmost sensitivity, his stories reflected the socio-political and economic realities of the time, giving voice to the hopes, hardships, and resilience of ordinary people in a way that felt both cinematic and deeply authentic.
(1955) Raj Kapoor in the classic he directed, 'Shree 420'
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"Kapoor was beyond doubt a genius, who had a firm grip on all sections of filmmaking - he was as much a director as an actor, as much a cameraman as a choreographer, a musician. Master craftsman, an astute team builder." pic.twitter.com/o2hDXbW7Ey
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Hailed as the Greatest Showman of Indian Cinema, Raj Kapoor passed away on June 2, 1988. On his death anniversary, let's discuss the representation of the working class in his films.
Raj Kapoor’s protagonists are usually wide-eyed dreamers whose journey begins in a village and leads to the city (most often Bombay) chasing a better life. This recurring theme isn’t a coincidence. Kapoor’s father, Prithviraj Kapoor, had moved from Peshawar to Bombay to follow his dreams—perhaps that personal history made him so emotionally invested in the idea of the city as both a promise and a paradox.
In post-Partition India, cities like Bombay symbolized opportunity. Thousands migrated from small towns and villages, hoping the city would solve all their problems. But reality often hit hard. In ‘Shree 420’, Kapoor’s character Raj leaves his village believing in honest work, only to find a corrupt world that tempts him to abandon his values. “Yeh sheher nahi, mehfil hai,” he says—this isn’t a city, it’s a spectacle. The song “Mera joota hai Japani” is cheerful on the surface, but it’s also a subtle assertion of dignity amid poverty. The city in 'Awaara' is both a playground and a trap, where survival often comes at the cost of innocence. While showing the city as a place of hope, he also revealed its cold indifference. He showed that for the working class, the dream often comes with heartbreak.
Instead of just showcasing poverty, Raj Kapoor gave it a face, a heart, and a voice. In his world, the poor are fighters, dreamers, and survivors. He captured the rawness of working-class life but never stripped it of dignity. And that's why Raj in 'Awaara', a thief molded by the slums, carries his pain but sings, “Awara hoon,” like it's his badge of honor. 'Boot Polish' follows two orphaned siblings forced to beg on the streets. But instead of begging, they shine shoes—because their mentor tells them, “Bhiksha maangna paap hai.” The film is as much about their struggle as it’s about their pride in honest work. In 'Shree 420', we see Raj walking Bombay’s rain-soaked streets in worn-out shoes, clinging to his values even when the world tempts him to sell out. The image of him smiling, and singing “Mera joota hai Japani” tells us that he is poor, but not broken.
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Kapoor promoted the idea that your birth does not define your worth. He didn’t pity the poor but rather celebrated their resilience.
Beneath the romance and rain-soaked songs, Kapoor's films take a hard look at class, capitalism, and injustice. In 'Shree 420', the city is split in two: the wealthy in their glass towers, and the poor on the pavements. The protagonist is seduced by wealth, only to realize it’s built on the backs of the struggling masses. The divide is not just economic but also moral. 'Awaara' goes even deeper, asking: is a man bad because he’s poor, or because society never gave him a chance? The film tears into class prejudice with boldness rarely seen in that era. The song “Awara Hoon” is the character's middle finger to a world that judges him. And then there’s 'Jagte Raho', where Kapoor played a thirsty man mistaken for a thief just because he looks poor. One night in a high-rise exposes the fear, hypocrisy, and cruelty of the elite.
ShowMan Raj Kapoor's poor, innocent "little tramp".
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(1951) 'Awaara' with K. N. Singh. pic.twitter.com/RLwQm7Z2b4
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Kapoor exposed capitalism’s ugly truth, which fattens the rich while leaving the poor devastated. His stories roared that injustice feeds off class divides, but the human spirit has the courage to stare it down and rise anyway.
The sign of a great filmmaker is they showcase a lot by showing very little. Kapoor never used long speeches to talk about poverty—he let the visuals do the talking. In all his films, small, everyday details become powerful symbols of struggle. His characters wear oversized coats, tattered shirts, or broken shoes—which are statements of the class. Raj’s tramp-like avatar in ‘Shree 420’, with his tilted hat and worn-out shoes, walks the rainy streets of Bombay like a dreamer with nothing in his pockets but hope. It screams his slum-born defiance, a badge of survival against a world that shunned him. The crumbling shacks in 'Boot Polish' reflect the fragile hopes of orphaned kids shining shoes to eat. In 'Awaara', the contrast between the judge’s mansion and the slum where Raj grows up symbolizes inequality. And the footpath shows up again and again in his films, becoming a stage for the common man’s invisibility—always outside, never allowed in.
Kapoor found meaning in every crack in the wall, celebrating those who face life with grit instead of glamour.
Raj Kapoor knew that even when life is hard, the working class hold on to hope like it’s the last coin in their pocket. And that’s why, in most of his films, no matter how heavy the struggle, the story doesn’t end in defeat. It ends with a flicker of light. It's not perfection, but enough to keep going. 'Shree 420' shows Raj walking away from all that glitter, hand in hand with Vidya, choosing honesty over shortcuts. In ‘Awaara’, after a lifetime of rejection, the boy from the slums finally gets a chance to be seen—not just by his father, but by society. The kids in 'Boot Polish', abandoned and barefoot, are finally given a home by the end of the film. The clerk in 'Anari' faces betrayal but wins love and respect eventually. In 'Jis Desh Mein Ganga Behti Hai', the protagonist's final song becomes a hymn of hope.
Kapoor never promised that the world would be fair for the working class. He knew that would be hollow optimism. But he always left a crack in the door for something better. Because that’s what common people hold on to: the hope that tomorrow might be a little kinder than today.
