Saurabh Shukla shares his fears of being forgotten, revealing the deeply personal journey that shapes his art and the man behind the roles, writes SAKSHI PRIYA

He’s a ruthless gangster, a courteous policeman, and a sharp-witted judge — all rolled into one. Guess who? No points for getting it right! He is the ever-versatile Saurabh Shukla, a master of transformation who can be anyone he chooses to. From scene-stealing comedic timing to intense, hard-hitting performances, With his rich baritone, impeccable dialogue delivery and an acting range that swings from humour to high drama, he’s a powerhouse performer who commands attention every time he appears on screen.

Yet, beyond the applause and the larger-than-life characters, lies a man who told to his younger self, “Bravo! You led a great life! I look back at my younger self, and I would say I feel pride.” There comes a moment in life when we stop, not to bask in success, but to hold the hand of our younger self and whisper, “You made it through.” For Saurabh Shukla, that moment isn’t about fame, nor is it about the applause that follows his name. It’s about the battles no one saw, the choices that shaped him, and the art that saved him. As we sit down for this conversation, he looks at me, his voice steady yet filled with depth, and says, “I don’t become the character, the character becomes me.” And in that moment, I understand, he doesn’t step into roles; he lets them find a home within him.

He isn’t just the man who made us laugh in Jolly LLB or left us moved in Raid. He is the soul of every role he touches, turning characters into raw human emotion. But beyond the silver screen, who is he when the world isn’t watching? It’s easy to measure success in awards and accolades. But what about the silent nights of doubt? What about the sacrifices? The moments when he questioned if he was enough? When he wondered if the world would ever understand the fire in his heart?

Your performances have lived in many people’s hearts. But let me ask you something, when the lights go off and the applause fades, when it’s just you and silence, who are you really?

The same person. I don’t feel I become somebody else when I perform or when I’m on a public platform. If you’re asking whether I am the same under the limelight, yes, I am. Because I don’t think it’s a big deal that I’m an actor or that I’m in films. Everybody does something. The point is not what you do; the point is how well you do it, how passionate you are how committed and consumed you are by it. There is a perception that being in the limelight changes people and maybe that’s true for some, but not for me. I live a very normal life. The life I lead at home is the same life I lead under the limelight.

You once aimed to direct, how did you become a celebrated actor instead?

As for acting, it’s not a solo art. An actor alone is nothing. You need a writer who gives you the lines and ideas, a director who tells you how to interpret them; a light designer who creates the right mood, a set designer, a costume designer, the entire team makes a performance great. People often make the mistake of saying, “You’re a great actor,” but in reality, they are also praising the writer, the cinematographer, the director, and the co-actors. I was always more interested in theater direction, in putting up productions. But when you explore different aspects of an art form, you start understanding acting better, too. I believe that if you want to be an actor, you should first try directing. And if you want to be a director, at some point, you should act, so you understand what an actor goes through. Art in isolation is nothing. The beauty of this art form is that it brings together many arts - dance, music, acrobatics, and acting.

Have you ever had a moment on stage where you felt so vulnerable, so exposed, that you were shaken by your own performance?

If that moment ever comes, it will be time for me to exit. What drives me is the feeling that there is always something more to achieve. If I ever feel I have done my best performance, I might lose the motivation to continue. But yes, there have been moments that have surprised me. In ‘Jolly LLB 2’, there was a courtroom scene where I improvised a reaction. After the scene, there was complete silence on set. When the director called “cut,” he burst out laughing, saying, “Where did that come from?” That was a moment where I surprised not just myself but also my director and co-actors.

You have done films, written scripts, directed projects, yet you always return to theater. What is it about the stage that no camera or grand production can replace?

People think I have a spiritual connection with theatre, but that’s not the case. I am a firm believer that I have one life, and I will do whatever I want to do, as long as it doesn’t harm anyone. I love both cinema and theatre. I make time for both. I don’t see one as superior to the other. The idea that theatre is “pure” while cinema is “contaminated” is a romanticised view. Theatre is just as pure and just as contaminated as cinema. Contamination and purity are like siblings, they exist together. That is the law of nature.

We often celebrate success, but failures shape us, too. Can you share a project that didn’t work but taught you something invaluable?

Number of them! Many before me have said this, success teaches you nothing, failure teaches you everything. Success brings euphoria and friends who want to party with you, but failure forces you to introspect. It compels you to grow. We often perceive failure in the moment, when a film doesn’t achieve the numbers we expected or when a project falls apart, but in the longer arc of life, we realise that what seemed like a failure was actually a blessing in disguise. And we say, “Thank God, Aisa hua?”

Right at the beginning of my career, in 1992, I was almost set to move to England for a long-term project. I had signed a series that was supposed to run for three years, but the project fell through, and I was deeply disappointed. However, as a result of that setback, I ended up doing Bandit Queen and that was how my career in Bollywood began.

Have you ever played a role that stayed with you even after the director said “cut”?

I have a different take on this. I have never played a character that isn’t me and that has never stopped me from playing any role. I don’t become the character, the character becomes me. I don’t try to understand a character as an outsider. Instead, I relate it to my own life. That’s how I approach it. I don’t step into a role; I find the role within myself. I don’t try to transform into someone else, I try to find the character within me, to connect it with my own experiences. That’s how I do it.

What excites you more, intense roles or lighter ones?

I don’t think emotions come in boxes. They are fluid. From an actor’s perspective, we don’t think in terms of “genres.” We simply want to depict life as it is, in whatever medium we are working with. If you look carefully at my roles, they have never been one-dimensional. Even in Raid, which was an intense role, there were moments of humour. In Jolly LLB, the film had a certain tone, but the character had different shades. That’s what interests me, roles that are layered & complex.

Is there a particular role you are still waiting for?

I’m not waiting for a role. Truly speaking, I never wait. Because it’s not the role that matters, it’s what you do with it. That makes all the difference. I enjoy most of the roles I play, as long as they are directed well and allow me to discover something new.

As an artist, what scares you more, failure or being forgotten?

If you’re giving me only two choices, I’d say being forgotten. But what actually scares me is losing my relevance. If I lose my relevance, that’s the end. Before the conflict ends and the scene is cut, I would like to cut it myself before I lose my relevance.

You wanted to stay behind the scenes, yet life pulled you into the spotlight. When you stepped on stage for the first time, what did you feel?

I remember that feeling, it’s what they call “butterflies in the stomach.” It was a wonderful experience, yet there was so much innocence in it. There’s a saying, “The world is your oyster,” and it felt exactly like that. Back then, whatever I said, people were generous, they shared their experiences with me. One person advised me, “Don’t try to memorise all the lines. Instead, understand them. When you truly understand, you’ll never forget, but what you try to memorise might slip away. If you grasp the meaning instead of just mugging up the lines, it’ll be much better.”