Mumbai: Dhurandhar is not a film that believes in easing its audience into the experience. From its very opening moments, Aditya Dhar’s 2025 action thriller signals that it is operating on a different creative frequency — one where nationalism, organised crime, love and violence collide in a morally grey universe. Led by Ranveer Singh, with formidable performances from Akshaye Khanna and Sanjay Dutt, the film stands apart not just for its scale and intensity, but for one bold creative choice: the way it uses music as an integral narrative device rather than background ornamentation.
Running for a demanding 3 hours and 34 minutes, Dhurandhar manages to keep audiences engaged largely because of how seamlessly its songs are woven into the storytelling. In an era where Bollywood often relies on remixed retro tracks for fleeting nostalgia, this film takes a far riskier and more rewarding route — transforming familiar songs into tools of character-building, tension and narrative propulsion.
A morally grey world powered by characters
At the centre of Dhurandhar is Ranveer Singh as Hamza Ali Mazari, a character shaped by ideology, loss and calculated violence. Opposite him stands Akshaye Khanna’s Rehman Daikat, a villain who does not rely on loud theatrics but exudes menace through silence and control. Sanjay Dutt’s SP Aslam adds another unpredictable layer — a lawman whose moral compass is as fluid as his methods.
This is a world where loyalty is fragile, violence is currency and every decision carries consequence. Dhar ensures that each character arrives with weight, history and intent. Music becomes one of the most effective tools to establish this universe, often replacing traditional background scores at moments where silence or orchestral tension would have been the safer option.
Music as a parallel script
What truly distinguishes Dhurandhar is its refusal to treat songs as pauses in the narrative. Here, music functions almost like a parallel screenplay. Songs arrive during gunfights, chases and confrontations — moments where Bollywood conventionally avoids lyrical interruptions.
Each track is deliberately placed, not to soften the impact of violence or heighten romance, but to deepen unease and sharpen character arcs. Familiar melodies are recontextualised in ways that unsettle rather than comfort, ensuring that audiences remain alert throughout the film.
Na Toh Karvan Ki Talaash Hai: Philosophy in sound
The most striking example is Na Toh Karvan Ki Talaash Hai, originally composed by Roshan for Barsaat Ki Raat. Reimagined in Dhurandhar as Ishq Jalakar – Karvaan, the qawwali is fused with EDM, metal and electronic textures.
Rather than serving as a nostalgic callback, the song establishes the philosophical backbone of the film and introduces Hamza Ali Mazari. Its lyrics and sonic aggression mirror the character’s internal conflict — ambition without destination, faith without certainty. It is not just a song but a manifesto that frames the film’s emotional and ideological landscape.
Ramba Ho: Violence wrapped in familiarity
Ramba Ho, once a playful and cheerful number, is repurposed during the film’s first major action sequence. The contrast is deliberate and disturbing. As violence unfolds on screen, the familiar tune creates discomfort rather than relief.
The rhythm choreographs the action, turning brutality into a sequence that feels almost surreal. The audience is forced to confront violence through the lens of nostalgia, making the scene far more unsettling than a conventional action score would allow.
Monica Oh My Darling: Chaos in motion
One of the most kinetic musical moments comes with Run Down The City – Monica, a reworked version of the classic Caravan track. Played during a frantic chase as Hamza and Yaalina Jamil flee the police, the song’s chaotic energy syncs perfectly with the desperation on screen.
The beats dictate camera movement, editing rhythm and emotional escalation. Rather than merely accompanying the chase, the music drives it, making the sequence pulse with anxiety and urgency.
Hawa Hawa: Swagger with menace
Hasan Jahangir’s Hawa Hawa, a breezy 1980s Pakistani pop hit, is used to introduce Sanjay Dutt’s SP Aslam. Instead of irony, the song lends swagger. It frames Aslam as a man who enjoys his authority, operates on instinct and thrives on unpredictability.
Beneath the playful surface lies an undercurrent of danger, perfectly matching a character who refuses to be boxed into conventional ideas of heroism or villainy.
Na De Dil Pardesi Nu: Betrayal in motion
Na De Dil Pardesi Nu is reimagined as a high-energy collaboration between rapper Hanumankind and Ranveer Singh, marking Hanumankind’s Bollywood debut. Originally a 1995 Punjabi folk classic by Mohd Sadiq and Ranjit Kaur, the song now accompanies a pivotal action sequence.
As Rehman Daikat realises Hamza’s betrayal, the track intensifies the emotional rupture and physical confrontation, fusing folk roots with modern aggression.
Authenticity through regional music
The film also features ghazals and classics like Ghulam Ali’s Chupke Chupke and Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan’s Afreen Afreen in scenes depicting everyday life in Pakistan. These moments add cultural texture and authenticity, grounding the heightened drama in lived reality.
Conclusion
What sets Dhurandhar apart is its fearless reimagining of how music functions in mainstream Hindi cinema. Retro songs are not decorative nostalgia pieces but narrative weapons — used for introductions, chases, violence and psychological insight. By placing familiar melodies in unfamiliar contexts, the film refuses to let audiences relax into memory.
Instead, the music unsettles, energises and challenges expectations, ensuring that Dhurandhar remains gripping from start to finish. In doing so, Aditya Dhar delivers not just an action spectacle, but a bold lesson in how Bollywood soundtracks can evolve without losing their soul.
