Bollywood Director With a Panache for Storytelling Enthralls South Asian Literature and Art Festival

The grand finale on Sept. 13 at the South Asian Literature and Art Festival (SALA) featured the charismatic and ever-engaging Kabir Khan—filmmaker, storyteller, and master of cinematic detail. Overflowing with anecdotes and an infectious enthusiasm, Khan held the audience spellbound. His impeccable sense of timing—both behind the camera and in front of a live crowd—was on full display as he fielded questions with warmth, wit, and a generous sprinkling of stories.

He recalled a childhood memory of playing Hanuman in Delhi’s local Ramleela performances. “I always got the role,” he laughed, “because the audition involved running up to a tree and climbing it as fast as you could.” That memory eventually inspired the emotional core of “Bajrangi Bhaijaan,” where Salman Khan’s character, modeled loosely on the affectionate monkey god, returns a mute girl child across the border. “Myth and childhood memories,” Kabir said, “always trump artifice.”

One particularly moving moment was his account of casting Jiva as cricketer Krishnamachari Srikkanth in “83,” the film chronicling India’s historic World Cup win. Reading the script aloud to his assistant, Kabir found himself choking up. And although Kapil Dev initially didn’t recall the events in detail, once the story was written out, the legendary captain’s memory returned. “That,” he said simply, “is the power of narrative.”

He also revealed a fascinating behind-the-scenes detail: Robin Singh, one of the bowlers depicted in “83,” had a shirt that dramatically unfurled every time he bowled. To replicate that exact motion on screen, the costume team tested sixteen different cotton blends until they found one that moved just like the original. “It’s those little things,” Kabir said with a smile, “that make the difference.”

Born to a Muslim Urdu-speaking father and a Hindu Telugu-speaking mother, Kabir has always straddled the many Indias we inhabit. His storytelling—shaped by travel, history, and keen social observation—is deeply informed by that duality.

Perhaps the most unforgettable story of the afternoon came from his documentary days. While filming “Kabul Express,” Kabir found himself hanging 20 feet above Kabul in a Russian helicopter, capturing raw footage. Suddenly, he spotted a 6-foot-4 Mujahideen fighter pointing a gun at him. Certain the end was near, Kabir yelled, “Hindustani! Hindustani!” hoping it would save him.

To his utter disbelief, the man who could have easily killed him and his assistant in the middle of nowhere broke into song: “Mere sapno ki rani kab aayegi tu…”

The audience erupted in laughter. “It was one of the most surreal moments of my life,” Kabir said. “Of course, I tried to include that in the film—but everyone told me it was too unbelievable. Too filmi. Even for Bollywood.”

Throughout the session, Khan was candid and open about his journey—from working with Nelson Mandela and Fidel Castro as a young documentary filmmaker, to capturing stories of displacement, identity, and nationalism in blockbusters like “New York,” “Ek Tha Tiger,” “Bajrangi Bhaijaan,” and “83.” Kabir was grateful that commercial cinema gave him the space to send his message to a wider audience than a documentary film-maker.

He also reflected on the paradox of commercial cinema: its ability to reach millions while conveying deeply personal themes. “Bajrangi Bhaijaan,” he explained, wasn’t born out of religious or political ideologies—it was about empathy, humanity, and dissolving the borders that divide us.

Born to a Muslim Urdu-speaking father and a Hindu Telugu-speaking mother, Kabir has always straddled the many Indias we inhabit. His storytelling—shaped by travel, history, and keen social observation—is deeply informed by that duality. From his early career working with journalist Saeed Naqvi, traveling to more than 60 countries, to now shaping nuanced characters for global audiences, Kabir’s cinema remains as personal as it is political.

He also shared his pride in his latest film, “Chandu Champion,” based on the life of Murlikant Petkar, India’s first Paralympic gold medalist and a war hero. Kabir noted that Petkar was posthumously awarded the Arjuna Award, a recognition that came far too late for a man who had served both on the battlefield and in the sporting arena.

Even after the session, when my daughter, and I approached him for a photo, his filmmaker instinct took over. “Stand away from the light,” he gently instructed, adjusting our position. Once a director, always a director.

But on this golden afternoon at SALA, it wasn’t the scale of Kabir Khan’s career that dazzled—it was his humility, his humor, and his unfiltered joy for telling stories. A contemporary of SRK and Gauri Khan, he recounted with a twinkle in his eye how he missed his acting career by rejecting a role offered by Farooq Nadiadwalla because he was still completing his filmmaking course at MCRC, in Delhi.

He reminded us that in the best cinema, as in the best conversations, the smallest details matter. The flutter of a cotton shirt in motion, the song from a stranger in a war zone, the decision to lead with empathy rather than spectacle.

Kabir also confessed that he does most of his reading and writing on long flights. He once tried to convince Aditya Chopra to hire a professional writer to help him. Chopra, cleaning his glasses on his shirt, simply told him: “That’s what you’re there for.” No wonder Kabir Khan was hanging on to every word we shared till the end, or he is also an incredible actor.

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With one foot in Huntsville, Alabama, the other in her birth home, India, and a heart steeped in humanity, Monita Soni writes as a contemplative practice. She has published hundreds of poems, movie reviews, book critiques, and essays, and contributed to combined literary works. Her two books are My Light Reflections and Flow Through My Heart. You can hear her commentaries on Sundial Writers Corner, WLRH 89.3 FM.