On an evening at Aiikya Real Estate presents Bangalore Times’ Headliners Gala, where we celebrate the city and the people who shape it, we brought to gether a set of panellists who share a common spark — of defiance — each of them challenging the status quo in their own way. Entrepreneur and philanthropist TV Mohandas Pai who questions governance with the rigour of data; writer and activ ist Banu Mushtaq who challenges patriarchy through the quiet rebellion of her prose; Grammy-winning composer Ricky Kej who turns music into a call for environmental consciousness; and National Award-winning actor Nithya Menen who reshapes the idea of the heroine through bold, unconventional roles. Excerpts from the insightful conversation:(To Banu Mushtaq) You’ve spoken about moments in life when one begins to question the system around them. Was there a turning point for you — a moment when you felt something was fundamentally not right and decided you wanted to do more than simply accept it? Immediately after my marriage, I was made to resign from my job and stay at home. I continued my duties as a wife in a joint family and became an obedient Muslim wife. I also had a daughter. But somewhere within, I felt there was some thing missing in me, and that sense of suffocation kept growing. After my deliv ery, in a moment of deep despair, I even attempted to take my life by pouring kero sene over myself. Fortunately, I was saved. After that incident, the rigid norms around me loosened a little. That was the turning point for me. I decided that I had something to say, something to express, and that I would write(To TV Mohandas Pai) You’ve often described Bengaluru as a middle-class city that values intellect over inherited wealth. With the rapid growth we’re seeing today, do you think the city risks losing its soul? Bengaluru brings together talented, hardworking individuals from across the country — many of them self-made and driven by intellect rather than inherited privilege. That is what has made the city prosperous and dynamic. At the same time, prosperity brings new challenges. As people aspire to a better quality of life, the pressure on infrastructure and governance increases. But the core spirit of Bengaluru is still intact. It remains a welcoming city — a place where young people can dream, inno vate and succeed. It respects entrepreneurs, artists, scholars and professionals alike. There is also a culture of dialogue; even when citizens criticise leaders, conversations happen with open ness and mutual respect. The real task ahead is to match the city’s ambition with stronger infrastructure and better planning, so that Bengaluru can continue to be a city of opportunity, creativity and high qual ity of life — truly a city of India’s future.(To Nithya Menen) Throughout your career, you’ve resisted the conventional path to stardom and chosen roles that are often unconventional and content driven. For many actors, it can be difficult to turn down projects that promise fame and financial success. How challenging have those choices been for you? The decision itself was never very difficult, because staying true to my conscience was the only way I knew how to work. For a long time, I felt I might be in the wrong place because I wasn’t following the usual path, but today I believe I’m exactly where I’m meant to be. I’ve never placed a great deal of value on fame or money. What mattered more to me was whether something felt right. Even from a young age, I’ve had a strong sense of social responsibility — I often ask myself how a role or a scene might influence some one who watches it. That question guides many of my choices.(To Nithya Menen) Have you ever found yourself in situations where a project turned out to be different from what you expected? It can happen, of course. But I try to avoid that by making careful decisions at the start. I tend to choose people as much as projects — collaborators who genuinely want to tell a story with honesty. When you work with people who share that intention, there’s usually openness, discussion and collaboration. And if challenges do arise, I deal with them in the moment.(To Ricky Kej) Your work merges music with social causes — from climate change to environmental awareness and mental health. Do you believe art makes people more receptive to social change? I have always felt strongly about the environment — in fact, I was an environmentalist even before I fully understood the word. So, it was natural for my work to revolve around it. Today, everyone talks about changing the world, but we rarely talk about changing ourselves. Often, people feel their individual actions are too small to matter — if I stop using single use plastics, what difference will it make? Or if I reduce my dependence on fossil fuels, what difference will it make? But meaning ful change begins exactly there. We need to be the change that we want to see in this world. So how do we do that? Facts, data and speeches are important, but they don’t always shift mindsets. That’s where art comes in. Through music, storytell ing and creativity, we can connect with people’s hearts and imagination. That emotional connection is powerful. If music can help people fall in love with the natural world, it can also inspire them to protect and sustain it. That has been my mission — to use music as a way to spark awareness and encourage meaningful change.(To Banu Mushtaq) After decades of writing about women and social realities, your recent international recognition has brought your work to a much wider audience. Has this given you greater freedom and opportunity to reach people and create change, both internationally and in India? For me, freedom has always meant the ability to speak and write about social realities honestly. My journey toward freedom began much earlier in my life, just around the time after I tried to end my life, when I de cided to write, despite the constraints around me. It has never been easy. I have often been asked to jus tify what I say. At times, I have faced hostility and even threats for speaking about issues that challenge deep ly rooted patriarchal attitudes. There was even a per son who barged into my office with a long knife and attempted to end my life. All because of what I wrote. Since then, there has been an element of self-censor ship within me. Still, there are stories I have not been able to tell. If I write those stories, I may not be alive. The violence, the cruelty and the bigotry of the society is more — up to the point of vulgarity and inhumanity. I am tolerating it. The voices of these women who are persecuted is so powerful. However, the stories of women that I have written about — stories that once remained unheard — are now resonating with readers across the world. They’re saying, see, that woman is me. People from dif ferent places are recognising themselves in these characters and their struggles. That, to me, is the most meaningful outcome. Many people — women and men alike — are beginning to understand the realities they reflect. Alongside my writ ing, I have also worked with various social movements, and it is heartening to see that those ideas and struggles continue to live on. In that sense, the freedom lies in the fact that these voices continue to exist, and are now travelling further.(To Nithya Menen) Stories often reach a wider audience through cinema. Now that you’ve started your own production house, is there a conscious intent to create films that bring about change or tell such stories?I’ve often questioned my own presence in cinema — ‘Why am I here? What is it that I’m here to do?’ Over time, I realised how powerful cine ma can be. Art in general is powerful, but cinema has an extraordinary reach. It reaches every demographic, every house, every TV and every human being. Someone sitting at home, going through a difficult moment, might simply turn on the television and encounter a story that resonates. Can there be something more powerful than that? Because of that, I believe artistes need to be conscious about what they create. I don’t think it even needs to be very profound, but the awareness and intention behind the work matters. The con sciousness from which a story is told can itself influence people. So in that sense, when people come with a certain conscience, or a certain intent, what comes out of it will be good.Starting a production house came from a desire to be more active in shaping that process. As an actor, I sometimes felt the role was passive — I just have to wait for someone to come with a script and decide whether I want to be part of it. Producing allows me to participate actively in the kind of cinema that gets made. I also feel that the current landscape can sometimes be limited. Much of what dominates today is what people call ‘mass cinema’ — it’s made for one person and it’s just made to, you know, just make that person look like a hero. And everything works around it. It’s extremely toxic. It’s sexist, and wrong in many ways. So, it’s important to put in more and more work out there that’s varied. They don’t all have to be activist films, but they should be different, free, and not conforming to the same norms. If we can give more creative people the platform to tell the stories they truly want to tell — whether serious, playful or experimental — we can slowly expand the possibilities of cinema itself.(To Ricky Kej) Bengaluru has a remarkable cultural mix — from classical traditions to rock, film music and contem porary sounds. As someone who grew up here, what would you tell young artists hoping to make a global im pact? I truly believe Bengaluru provides one of the best environ ments for an artiste to grow. I’ve lived here since I was six, and what shaped me most was the incredible diversity of mu sic around me. Growing up, I attended concerts across genres — Carnatic, Hindustani, Dhrupad, rock, pop, hip hop, jazz, film music. All of that eventually found its way into my own work. That’s why I often say my music is difficult to classify — it’s simply ‘Bangalore music’.For aspiring artistes, the most important thing is to be open and curious. Art inspires art. A musician can be inspired not only by music but also by films, thea tre, literature, museums and many other forms of creativity. Bengaluru offers ex posure to all of this, and artists should immerse themselves in it.I also believe that artistes today need to play multiple roles. First, you must be a strong artist. But in today’s world, an artiste must also be an entrepreneur, be cause you are constantly presenting and sharing your work with the world. And finally, an artiste needs to be a leader, as creative work often involves collabora tion with many people — other artistes, filmmakers, producers, marketers and audiences. If artistes develop these three qualities, cities like Bengaluru can nur ture them and help them take their work to a global stage.(To TV Mohandas Pai) What message would you give young people and aspiring professionals who are looking at Bengaluru as a place to build their dreams? A city grows when people talk, disagree, exchange ideas and still continue to live and work together. Bengaluru has always had that culture. It respects people from every field — artists, aca demics, entrepreneurs and innovators — and allows them to flourish. What makes the city special is its openness and humility. You might find some of India’s wealthiest individuals walking down the street in simple clothes, blending in. That spirit of equality and mutual respect is what defines Bengaluru. It’s also a city of opportunity. Many here have built their jour neys from the ground up — entrepreneurs who created their own brands, artists who achieved global recognition, musicians who went on to win international awards. Their success shows what is possible when talent meets perseverance. So the message to young people is simple: dream big. There is no limit to what you can achieve. But along with ambition, remain optimistic about the future and contribute to the community around you. If you dedicate even a small part of your time to improving society — the environment, the city and the lives of others — you not only build your own success but also inspire the next generation to achieve more.(To Banu Mushtaq) We’ve heard a lot about the city’s openness and opportunities. As someone who has taken Kannada literature to a global stage, what advice would you give — especially to women — who want to pursue their dreams despite the challenges they may face? My message is not only for young women, but also for young men. I agree that it is important to dream big, but dreaming alone is not enough. Along with ambition, you must also develop clear strategies and work actively towards achieving those dreams. Equally important is the kind of society we build around us. We must learn to be positive and respectful towards one another. I would especially urge young people to reject hate speech, com munal thinking and abusive language. These attitudes only di vide society and make it harder for individuals to grow. If we want a world where people — especially women — can pursue their aspirations freely, we must create an environment of respect, empathy and sup port. That is the foundation on which meaningful progress can be built.(To Ricky Kej) If you were to create a piece of music inspired by Bengaluru, what would its soundscape be like — calm and serene, or chaotic like the traffic at Silk Board Junction?It would probably be all of that together. The music would move through different phases — moments of calm, bursts of energy, highs and lows — just like the city itself. Bengaluru is a mix of contrasts, and the music would reflect that. In a way, it would be a mixed bag, much like the spirit of the city. That would be fun to cre ate. In fact, a little piece of that already exists — if you pass through the airport, you might notice that some of the music playing there is mine. (To Nithya Menen) Is there one old Bengaluru value or memory you wish people would carry forward? That’s a difficult question because I’m deeply attached to the city and very nostal gic about the Bengaluru I grew up in. In fact, I’ve been writing something in spired by that nostalgia — it’s slowly turning into a script. One thing I truly miss is how much of a melting pot the city was. Growing up, in a single classroom we spoke seven or eight languages — Kannada, Tamil, Telu gu, Malayalam, Konkani, Tulu, Kodava, Marathi and more. Yet, above everything else, we all identified as Bengalurueans first. I remember my father insisting that I study in a school where Kannada was the second language because he believed that was important. That shared sense of belonging — where people from many cultures came together and still felt like one community — is something I hope the city never loses. I will always think of myself as a Bengaluru girl first.
