Actor Rajesh Kumar hardly needs a formal introduction. For one generation, he will forever be Rosesh Sarabhai, the eccentric poet from the beloved early-2000s sitcom, Sarabhai vs Sarabhai. For another, he is the dependable character actor who has inhabited countless stories over the years, never demanding the spotlight, always leaving an impression, seamlessly becoming part of the mise-en-scene. But perhaps the most defining chapter of his life unfolded away from the camera. At what many considered the peak of his career, Kumar stepped away from acting and turned to farming. The years that followed were marked by loss, hardship and reinvention. When he eventually returned to acting in 2022, he came back as someone transformed by life itself.
The last year alone has reflected that renewed creative energy. Whether it was the romantic musical Saiyaara, Anurag Kashyap’s Nishaanchi, or Nikkhil Advani’s Freedom at Midnight, Kumar has delivered one compelling performance after another. Now, as he gears up for the release of his next film, Ohh My Dog, slated to hit theatres on August 7, Kumar speaks to SCREEN about the difficult years that changed him and the philosophy that now guides the roles he chooses.
‘Credit card recovery agent used to abuse me’
“I think it was all part of God’s plan. What happened was that, at what many would call the peak of my career, I took a sabbatical from acting at the age of 42. I turned to farming, and I lost everything. Then I returned to acting in 2022. Those five years transformed me as a human being. I became more real, more grounded. I mean I came to understand the depths of suffering, how much pain a person can endure, how humiliating it feels when you have nothing left.”
Reflecting on the lowest point of his journey, Kumar recalled how financial struggles tested both his resilience and dignity. “I’ve lived through moments where the credit card recovery agent would call the watchman’s cabin downstairs and abuse me because I didn’t have the money to pay. I sold my car. The last vehicle I owned was an Eco Car, which I eventually handed over to my farmers in Nashik because I couldn’t pay them. I’ve been through so much. But despite all that, I never allowed myself to sink into depression, anxiety, or any kind of negative emotion. The biggest takeaway from the last four or five years has been the learning, it has been incredibly beautiful.”
These years of uncertainty have also become the foundation of his craft. The struggles he endured, he says, have made him a more instinctive actor, allowing him to understand people rather than simply portray them. “When a variety of roles started coming my way, I realised I could see so many different people within myself. I’d lived through so many situations, and it’s our experiences that shape us. As we say, ‘It is in times of scarcity that one’s true character is revealed.’ Those experiences slowly became a part of who I am. And when these characters started coming to me, I found myself instinctively justifying their actions. They kept making sense to me, and perhaps that’s where my confidence as an actor came from.”
Kumar believes the answer lies in embracing one’s humanity. “I think it all comes down to becoming more human. The more human I’ve become, the better the work has turned out.”
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‘People recognise my face but don’t know my name’
If Kumar’s journey is one of reinvention, Pavan Malhotra’s is a masterclass in endurance. An actor’s actor in the truest sense, Malhotra has spent over four decades disappearing into characters. From Salim Langde Pe Mat Ro with Saeed Mirza to Rakeysh Omprakash Mehra’s Delhi-6, and more recently the acclaimed streaming series Tabbar, his career has been defined by performances that never call attention to themselves, but stay long after the screen fades to black. But, despite a body of work that spans generations, Malhotra says many still recognise the faces he has inhabited before they remember the man behind them. The Ohh My Dog actor reflected on a peculiar reality of his career, something he wears almost like a badge of honour.
Pavan Malhotra will be seen next in Ohh My Dog.
“A lot of young people come up to me and say, ‘Sir, you were very good in that film. Sir, we really enjoyed that role of yours. Then they’ll suddenly pause and ask, ‘But what’s your name, sir?’ They recognise my face, but they can’t quite place my name. It’s happened to me two or three times now. They know the face, they remember seeing me, but they’re trying to connect it to a character. Just three days ago, another person came up to me and said, ‘Sir, I remember your roles, but I forgot your name.”
Rather than finding it disappointing, Malhotra says he considers it one of the greatest compliments an actor can receive. “And I actually like that. It means people remember the characters more than the actor. That’s far more satisfying than being recognised just because your photograph and name appear in the newspapers every ten days.” Looking back at a career that has quietly flourished over the decades, Malhotra says he carries no regrets. Instead, he credits the filmmakers who believed in him and the stories that kept finding their way to him.
“Luckily for me, some wonderful directors came into my life with beautiful stories. They trusted me with their films. God kept sending work my way, and all I did was approach it with honesty. How long any of us will survive in this profession, who knows? How long any of those film will survive, who knows? But I’ve truly enjoyed my journey. When I look back, I can honestly say I’ve enjoyed every bit of it.” For the veteran actor, ambition has always walked alongside gratitude. The desire to keep evolving remains, but so does the understanding that fulfilment lies in appreciating what one already has.
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“A person’s desires never really end. No matter how much you achieve, there’s always something more to aspire to. That’s why contentment is so important. You should always have the desire to keep working and growing. But if God has already blessed you, you also need to be content. Otherwise, there’s simply no end to human desire.”
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‘Took 14 years to make my second film’
Interestingly, much like the actors who bring its story to life, Ohh My Dog’s director, Amit Rai, has also weathered his own share of setbacks. Rai, who last helmed the widely acclaimed OMG 2, knows what it means to wait. Before the success of the 2023 film, Rai’s directorial debut, Road to Sangam, had released in 2010, leaving a gap of nearly 13 years before audiences saw his next film. It wasn’t for a lack of stories to tell, he says, but because finding believers in those stories proved far more difficult than writing them.
Reflecting on the long road between his first and second films, Rai said: “I did make a film during that period, but it never got released. That’s a different story altogether. Yes, it was very difficult. When you’re trying to tell a certain kind of story, it demands a great deal of struggle and perseverance. I went around with some wonderful scripts. People would say, ‘This is excellent,’ but they still weren’t sure whether they wanted to back them.”
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Amit Rai has recently directed by Ohh My Dog.
However, despite the setbacks, Rai says he has never allowed disappointment to harden into resentment. If anything, the years only reaffirmed his belief that choosing an unconventional path inevitably comes at a cost. “But honestly, I don’t carry any bitterness about any of it. I don’t feel sad, because if you’ve consciously chosen to swim against the tide, then you have to accept the price that comes with it. If you’re trying to tell stories that haven’t been told before, stories that don’t resemble someone else’s work, and don’t imitate existing formulas, you have to be prepared for that journey.”
For him, it was about finding fellow travellers who share the same faith in a story, people willing to commit themselves to a vision long before success is guaranteed. “To make films like that, you have to find people willing to walk that difficult path with you, actors, producers, music directors, people who genuinely believe in the story you’re trying to tell. It’s not just about sharing the same taste in films; it’s about sharing a way of thinking. They have to believe that this story deserves to be told. Only then does your caravan come together. But for me, building that caravan took fourteen years, almost like Lord Ram’s years of exile.”
Perhaps that is why, when I asked all three what they hoped audiences would carry home from Ohh My Dog, they all arrived at the same answer: “Compassion.” It felt less like coincidence and more like the inevitable conclusion to three lives marked by struggle. After all, every path they had walked, through loss, anonymity, rejection and resilience, had led them to the same place: the belief that what the world needs most is a little more compassion.