Shabana Azmi on acting, equality and the power of cinema

The conversation explored how personal history can shape an artist’s work. Azmi and Khadka discussed acting, childhood, political and literary influences, equality, women’s roles, marriage and the social responsibility of cinema. The discussion mattered because both actresses connect their careers with stories about women’s empowerment.

Azmi described growing up in a 180-to-200-square-foot home where eight families shared one bathroom. Her mother took her to theatre rehearsals from six months old. She later became known in arthouse and mainstream films. Khadka spoke about her own move from commercial cinema toward more creative work after Bulbul.

The exchange also focused on relationships and public values. Azmi said friendship and respect helped sustain her marriage to Javed Akhtar. She argued that artists should not treat serious issues as a nine-to-five job. Their remarks presented cinema as both creative work and a way to question inequality.

Azmi’s career spans contrasting parts of Indian cinema. She began with Shyam Benegal’s Ankur and established herself in arthouse work, while also succeeding in mainstream films. This breadth matters because it challenged the belief that an actor identified with serious cinema could not become successful commercially.

Her acclaimed films include Arth, Masoom, Paar and Fire. She also appeared in popular releases such as Amar Akbar Anthony, Parvarish and Avtaar. Her performance in Ankur earned the National Film Award for Best Actress in 1974. These examples show range in both genre and audience.

Azmi explained that she judges a project by its story and the honesty of its telling, not by its category. Commercial films made her financially secure, she said, while art films gave her spiritual satisfaction. Her career therefore suggests that an actor can pursue popularity and artistic purpose together.

Arthouse cinema generally gives greater priority to artistic expression, unusual storytelling and social or personal questions. Mainstream commercial cinema usually aims for a wide audience and stronger entertainment appeal. These are broad categories, not absolute rules. A commercial film can be thoughtful, and an art film can reach many viewers.

The article illustrates the difference through Azmi’s work. She earned acclaim for films such as Ankur, Arth, Masoom, Paar and Fire, which the article places within her arthouse reputation. She also appeared in popular films including Amar Akbar Anthony, Parvarish and Avtaar. Her career moved across both spaces.

Azmi rejected the idea that an arthouse actor cannot succeed commercially. She said the medium matters less than the story and the honesty of its telling. In her experience, commercial films provided financial security, while art films offered spiritual satisfaction. The distinction concerns purpose and style, not separate talent.

Azmi’s ideas about acting and equality grew from her family environment and childhood hardship. Her mother, Shaukat Kaifi, took her to theatre rehearsals from six months old. Her father, Kaifi Azmi, gave his earnings to the Communist Party, leaving the family only IRs40 for household expenses. These conditions encouraged imagination and political awareness.

Her father also shaped her independence. When she chose the Film and Television Institute of India, he promised to support any profession, provided she became the best at it. He had written a poem urging women to walk shoulder to shoulder with men. Azmi said she grew up believing equality was life’s natural order.

At 19, she realised equality was actually unusual in society. That discovery sharpened her understanding of injustice. She later argued that artists cannot stay silent about exploitation, oppression and human rights. Her background therefore linked creative skill with responsibility toward society.

The article describes a shift in values rather than providing a full history of Indian film. Azmi grew up believing equality was natural, because her family discussed politics, literature and women’s rights. Her father’s poem urged women to walk beside men, not behind them. At 19, she recognised that society rarely matched that ideal.

Her career reflects this concern. She became known for films such as Ankur, Arth, Masoom, Paar and Fire, while also working in mainstream cinema. The article says Azmi and Khadka built careers around stories of women’s empowerment. Khadka’s turning point was Bulbul, after which she worked in both commercial and arthouse films.

These examples suggest that women’s roles can become more central when filmmakers choose stories about their choices, struggles and power. The article does not claim that inequality has disappeared. Instead, it shows artists using cinema to make equality visible and to keep challenging old assumptions.

Stories about exploitation, oppression and women’s rights can turn cinema into a space for public reflection. They show how social systems affect real lives and invite audiences to examine beliefs they may otherwise accept. Azmi considers this engagement part of an artist’s responsibility, not an optional extra.

Her own career provides examples. She was praised for Ankur, Arth, Masoom, Paar and Fire, and said she was proud that many of her films engaged with social questions and left an impact on audiences. She also linked art films with spiritual satisfaction. The key mechanism is emotional storytelling: viewers encounter social issues through characters and situations rather than abstract arguments.

The article suggests that such films can keep serious issues visible and widen discussion about equality and rights. They do not automatically solve injustice, and the article does not measure specific social changes. Their continuing value lies in questioning silence, challenging oppression and encouraging artists to speak honestly about society.

Patriarchy is a social system in which men have greater power, authority or access to opportunities than women. The term helps explain why equality may be praised in principle but denied in everyday life. The source does not define patriarchy directly, but Azmi’s comments focus on the unequal conditions women face.

Her father’s poem urged women to walk shoulder to shoulder with men. Azmi said she first believed equality was natural, then realised at 19 that it was an exception. She and Khadka also built careers around stories of women’s empowerment. These stories challenge patriarchy by placing women’s experiences, choices and rights at the centre.

Cinema can make inequality emotionally understandable and publicly discussable. Azmi said artists should not stay silent about exploitation, oppression and human rights. The article does not claim that films alone end patriarchy. It shows that artists can question accepted power structures, widen awareness and help equality become a stronger social expectation.