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Journalism of Courage
From engineering to Indian theatre to performing at London’s West End, Mohit Mathur’s journey has been anything but ordinary. Recently seen in Life of Pi at Mumbai’s Nita Mukesh Ambani Cultural Centre (NMACC), the UK-based theatre actor and writer has successfully carved a unique space in global theatre while staying rooted in his Indian heritage. His story exemplifies the evolving representation of Indian representation in global theatre and the challenges of bridging two distinct cultural worlds.
In an interview with indianexpress.com, Mathur shares insights about his journey from engineering to theatre, his experience with Life of Pi, the stark differences between theatre scenes in India and the UK, and his mission to tell authentic Indian stories on international stages.
Read the edited excerpts below:
Mohit Mathur: I’m an engineer, because if you’re in India, you have to be an engineer. You cannot be an artist. At 22, I went to my dad crying, saying I couldn’t do this. If I do this, I’ll be out at 45… being an engineer, probably having a lot of money, but I wouldn’t know what could have been. I always danced as a kid. My father said, ‘OK, fine. Focus on your dancing for a year. And then you see where you go.’ For me, dancing was just a way of socialising. Not many straight guys were dancers, and I’m like, this is my way with the girls. But then suddenly it switched into becoming this — I wanted to become an artist.
I thought, ‘Let me see where this can take me.’ That journey led me to India’s Dancing Superstar in Mumbai.
Mohit Mathur: Life of Pi is an Indian story being brought to life on the West End stage, something that has never happened before. That was one of the main reasons I was so eager to be part of it. The show features incredible puppetry — the puppeteers who bring Richard Parker to life even won the Olivier Award for Best Actor.
Performing in India again, transitioning from Prithvi Theatre’s intimate 200-seater to a massive 2,000-seater stage, and seeing about 1,400 people fill the seats every night has been incredible. I’m not quite sure how we’re pulling that off in India, but it’s fascinating to observe the cultural differences in theatre etiquette. Here, phones often stay on during performances, you hear buzzing, and sometimes even kids crying. The decorum isn’t quite there yet. But this feels like the beginning of introducing world-class productions to India.
Q: You’ve experienced theatre scenes in both the UK and India. What are the key differences?
Mohit Mathur: If you do theatre in India, I remember being part of a really big production — I got paid 6,000 rupees for a month. How do I pay my rent? How do I pay for theatre? Even recently, I was supposed to be part of this big production travelling from India to Paris to perform. They called me and said, ‘Do you want to be a part of it?’ I said, ‘Yeah, of course.’ Then they said, ‘We’ll pay you X amount of money,’ which was nothing. They added, ‘You know, we all do theatre for love.’
I thought, ‘No. That was years ago.’ That’s exactly why I left India — to do theatre not just for passion, but also to make a living. I need to pay my bills. In the UK, there’s a clear understanding that when you’re doing theatre or any form of art, your time is respected, and you’re paid accordingly. There are minimum standards and unions in place to ensure that.
Mohit Mathur: I’ve worked with Vicky Kaushal, and I love what he does. I worked with his brother, Sunny Kaushal, on a movie called Bhangra Paa Le. That’s how I went to London; I was in the production when I auditioned for all the drama schools. I love Vicky’s love for acting. The way he just approaches things. I would love to work with Vikrant Massey. And Manoj Bajpayee — these are theatre actors who are really indulged in their work. I really enjoy working with someone who just catches the character, someone with youth who catches things in a way.
I’ll give you an example. That scene that me and Vicky did — it was a spoof by AIB. They were making Harassment Through the Ages, and he had to just eat a banana and just go like, ‘Isko toh maza chakhaana hi padega (They must be taught a lesson),’ and then throw the banana. Everyone kept saying, ‘Don’t eat the banana. It’s okay.’ But he said, ‘No, no, no. I need to eat the banana.’ He ate 15 bananas for that one line. He’s genuinely a nice person to be around. You can just have a conversation with him, you know? I don’t know, I haven’t met him recently. But this was about five or six years ago.
He was genuinely nice, considering where he comes from. Especially people like Vicky, Sunny, or Vikrant, who come from very humble backgrounds — they all understand the stage they’re at. They have respect for that, and for the craft itself.
Mohit Mathur: I was part of a show called Beyond Bollywood, a Bollywood production staged on the West End. Coming from a very humble background — my family had never left India — I was the only one to leave, at the age of 24. By 25, I was in London, performing on this massive stage, where I became the poster boy for the show. There were posters of me all over central London.
One day, I was at the London Eye with my friends when a group of kids and parents approached me. They were like, ‘Oh my God, you’re the Bollywood guy! You’re the Bollywood guy on the poster!’ I smiled and said, ‘Yeah.’ They told me, ‘We came to see the show, and you were amazing.’ It was such a surreal moment. Coming from a family that had never left India to standing in such an iconic place as the London Eye — a spot I’d only ever seen in pictures — and having people acknowledge and appreciate my work was incredible.
But then, there’s the other side of the story. Just a couple of months after performing on a sold-out West End stage with 2,000 people in the audience and receiving glowing reviews, I found myself back in India, working on the set of Dance Plus. I was putting lights on and off for a contestant I was choreographing. What a dichotomy of life!
Mohit Mathur: Mumbai has this distinct culture when it comes to appearances. We’re still chasing Hollywood-inspired looks and aesthetics. Every time you go for an audition, there’s this place in Mumbai — you may have heard of it — called Aram Nagar. Hundreds of aspiring actors gather outside the audition studios every morning. A casting director steps out, looks at everyone, and decides on the spot: ‘Fit, not fit, fit, not fit’.
They haven’t seen me act or do anything, but that quick ‘fit, not fit’ determines your chance. Out of those hundreds, maybe 20 people are chosen. It’s tough because your entire personality feels like it’s being judged every single day.
Mohit Mathur: It’s really interesting because I saw the film version of Life of Pi when I was little, and I absolutely loved it. It felt like something out of this world. When the West End production of Life of Pi started, I watched it every day, thinking, ‘This is impossible — you can’t replicate what they did in the film on stage.’ And then, I got an audition call for it.
What we’ve created on stage is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. It’s essentially a movie brought to life on stage, using projection, lighting, and puppetry. The experience is so immersive that you completely forget what’s happening around you.
What Lolita [Chakrabarti, the writer] has done is extraordinary. She didn’t base the play on the film but went back to the book, which was very male-centric. As a female playwright, she reimagined many of the male characters as female, giving them significant power in the story. Right now, in our production, four out of eight shows each week feature a female Pi. So Pi becomes female, and even Richard Parker, the tiger, is portrayed as female in those performances. This adaptation has transformed the story into something truly universal.
Mohit Mathur: Right now, I’m writing a show called Are You Even Indian? in the UK with Risco Theatre. It’s about an Indian boy from India and a South Asian British girl born and raised in Southall. They find themselves in a divorce court, each arguing over who is more Indian. What I’ve observed is that many people in Southall feel they are more Indian than those who’ve actually grown up in India. They still hold onto the values and perceptions of the 1950s, the era when their parents left India. For example, they imagine everyone in India still wearing saris—but that’s far from the reality.
Another show I’m working on, Dial 1 for UK, focuses on undocumented migrant workers in the UK. There’s this obsession in India with the idea that leaving the country and settling abroad will magically solve all our problems. We believe life will be sorted once we’re overseas. But the truth is quite different. When we’re abroad, we often long to return to India, and when we’re here, we dream of going there. It’s this constant tug-of-war, a perpetual state of being caught in the middle.
Mohit Mathur: I wish I had a definitive answer to that. There are many ways to get into theatre. If you can, join a play. If that’s not possible, consider enrolling in a drama school. And if even that’s not an option, take a course—but whatever you do, keep learning. Theatre is like a sport; you have to keep sharpening your skills. You can’t just say, ‘I’ve learned acting, now I’ll stop.’
Keep creating, keep working, and keep making things. If you feel you’re not good enough to create something original, start with an existing play. Get a director involved, ask for help, and make it happen. As for funding, I think in India, places like NMACC might be game-changers. They invite productions to perform and cover the entire production cost, which is a big step forward.
The essence of theatre and acting lies in doing. One of the challenges here is that we often lack proper preparation, and rehearsals stretch for months — sometimes four months — during which you’re earning just 4,000, 6,000, or 10,000 rupees a month. It’s not sustainable. On the West End, we create massive productions, sometimes costing 20 million pounds, in just four weeks of rehearsals. The difference is in the preparation — it’s done so thoroughly that the rehearsal process becomes efficient and focused.
