For Nandita Das and Kalki Koechlin, it's what's real that truly matters

In two separate conversations, film-maker and actor Nandita Das and actor-writer Kalki Koechlin echo a similar thought: Authenticity over aesthetics.

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Not long ago, while watching a trailer on YouTube, my father squinted at the screen and asked, “Is this the same woman from the last movie we saw?” It wasn’t. In fact, the last movie had a completely different actress, but I understood the confusion. However, his question made me wonder if Bollywood is staring down the barrel of an identity crisis stemming from aesthetic monotony. After all, beauty does have a blueprint now: Poreless skin, symmetrical features, and curated looks.

So when we sat down to zero in on the cover star for our Beauty issue, we had a simple agenda: To put a  personality who expands its very definition to include depth, complexity, and truth. And unanimously, we had not one but two names—Nandita Das and Kalki Koechlin—who have defied the conventional Bollywood mould time and again, be it how they present themselves to the world, the roles they’ve chosen, or their social media persona. They wear their skin as it is. They age gracefully and unapologetically. And they speak openly about resisting the pressure to conform to the unattainable beauty standards of the world.


For 55-year-old Das, who has long pushed back against colourism and the obsession with youth, authenticity is political. “My idea hasn’t changed—beauty for me is authenticity, kindness, grace. What’s rapidly changing is society’s narrative about it—it’s more about being glamorous and well-packaged.” 

Koechlin, on the other hand, plays down traditional beauty conversations, saying they no longer interest her. Echoing Das, she believes that beauty lies in authenticity. “It is the key...if you start to look deep into somebody, you will find beauty.” 

But for both of them beauty has never been a static or simple concept. It has been shaped, dismantled, and redefined multiple times. The two have had very different experiences with the concept in childhood. “I think the first time I have a strong memory of feeling accepted—more than beautiful—was when I was about nine,” recalls Koechlin. “I watched Hook (1991), and Tinkerbell was played by Julia Roberts. She’s this firefly from hell—feisty and wild. Up to that point, I believed that fairies were these perfect creatures with long hair. But this Tinkerbell was different. I thought—‘Oh my god, I can be a fairy too. A different kind of fairy’.”

But it did not take long for that sense of joyful self-identification to be interrupted. “The first time I felt not perfect was when I was bullied in school for my teeth. I became very self-conscious,” Koechlin shares. “I also had braces, so in my teenage years there was a lot of insecurity.” Like her, for Das too, the idea of beauty was not shaped at home, but rather, imposed by the outside world. “My parents actually never talked about beauty per se,” Das tells me. “How I looked wasn’t important but how I thought and behaved, was. So I never felt the burden of beauty. But slowly I began to realise that as a woman, you can never really escape it. Thankfully, it has never become a priority.” She quickly adds, “But parents are not the only ones raising us. The world raises us.” And once she was outside the safe cocoon, things were different. “As a darker person in a country so obsessed with fair skin, you’re constantly told how you are not good enough. There were slurs here and there...right from formative years. ‘You’re dark, your teeth are crooked, who’ll marry you?’ Even the compliments gave away their prejudice—‘Even though you’re dark, your features are nice.’”

Koechlin recalls how these early criticisms laid the groundwork for years of self-scrutiny—something she carried well into adulthood. In her twenties, despite being in “peak physical shape”, Koechlin says she was riddled with doubt. “I was always scrutinising every part of my body. I was never good enough,” she laments. “And then in my thirties, I was obsessing over wrinkles. Now (at 41) I look back and wonder—why was I doing that?” For her, the shift came post-motherhood. “After giving birth, you think you can never come back from that...but the body is very resilient. I’m much more celebratory now.”

Though Das grew up with an internal sense of worth, she acknowledges that societal messaging seeps in. “It’s in our songs, in our language—‘Uska rang saaf nahin hai (her complexion is not clean—a euphemism for fair)’. It does start to impact your choice of colours, your clothes.” In her disarming honesty, Das lays bare the absurdity of beauty standards. She recounts being told not to wear dark or pale colours because they would either blend into or contrast too harshly with her skin. “So what am I supposed to wear?” she asks, laughing. “Even if you push back, some of it seeps into your subconscious.” 

Speaking of push backs, both Das and Koechlin have carved a space in the industry through defiance, authenticity, and powerful storytelling. Their very presence, choice of roles, and candid conversations have often raised questions about the industry’s obsession with flawlessness and youth. As someone who “never wanted to be an actor,” Das continues to rebel against the pressures of a looks-obsessed industry. “It was neither a dream nor an ambition (to be an actor),” she shares. 

A trained social worker who stumbled into cinema through her involvement with street theatre, Das says she viewed films as a means to an end, to further her social advocacy work. “It has given me an opportunity to talk about things I care for,” she explains. And she did—by navigating roles that demanded she lighten her skin to look ‘modern’, or the fact she simply goes out in the sun without a sunscreen. Her rebelliousness lies in embracing herself as she is. “I was always dark and will be till I die! And I’m so fine with it,” she adds.

Das’ resistance to cosmetic correction started early. “My father got me braces, and I hated them. I threw them in a pond in Odisha during a summer holiday as my cousins teased me about it!” As an actor and film-maker, Das’ commitment to realism and social commentary has guided her filmography too, which includes movies like Fire (1996), Earth (1998), and Firaaq (2008) where she played textured and complex roles. “I’ve mostly done realistic films. Roles where my skin colour has not been an issue,” she says. But in some, the biases surface. “When I play a village woman or a slum dweller, my skin tone is seen as appropriate. But the moment I’m cast as an educated, modern woman, they say, ‘Can you lighten your skin?’ Even though I am that woman. And so are many others!”

Koechlin agrees with Das and says the industry entrenches these insecurities. “I’ve had producers say, ‘You should get a little filler for your laughter lines’. Or casting people come up close to inspect my wrinkles,” shares the actor-writer. “Directors have said, ‘You look too tired to shoot today.’ And I’ve had to remind them—you sort the lighting out and let me focus on acting.”

Koechlin says she has experienced how relentless and routine beauty policing can be. “Every time,” she says bluntly when I ask if her appearance has ever been valued over her performance. She recalls being told, “Can you be sexy in this scene?” without any context or direction. “That thing of just being reduced to one thing...if I’m only thinking about how I’m looking, how will I perform?” These beauty expectations, she notes, are particularly brutal on younger actors, leading many to seek cosmetic interventions prematurely. “More and more young people are conforming. People are getting Botox at 23!”

But thankfully the industry has not been able to box Koechlin and her filmography is proof of that. With Margarita with a Straw (2014), she challenged ideas about disability, desire, and womanhood. Even in mainstream films like Yeh Jawaani Hai Deewani (2013), she defied the usual tropes by playing a woman who didn’t wallow in heartbreak. “You expect her to be heartbroken because she didn’t get the guy, but then she moves on in life,” Koechlin explains, celebrating the character’s emotional independence. However, Koechlin says she is yet to land her dream role. “I would probably do a goofy, happy romcom, just to get rid of all these dark stereotypes,” she laughs. “And then I’d love to play a mythical warrior princess who can do Kung Fu.”

In the same breath, Koechlin laments the growing aesthetic monotony in heroines today—“fair, slim, tall...same facial structure”—driven by social media’s algorithm. This becomes my cue to ask what her reimagined heroine would be like. “There can’t be one,” Koechlin insists. “There should be many. Diversity is the key...different sizes, different ages.” Das echoes: “She should be layered, flawed, strong, and vulnerable.” But Koechlin acknowledges that the narrative is slowly shifting. “The heroine is being looked at differently,” she observes, pointing to the rise of complex female leads on OTT platforms. 

As our conversation meanders towards digital culture, and social media, Das does not mince her words. “There’s an infantile fetish to how women are expected to look,” she says. She questions our collective discomfort with ageing and individuality when she says, “Why do we need to have pink lips and red cheeks like babies? Perfect eyebrows and thick lashes...basically everything that we are born with, as if needs to be tweaked.” As mothers navigating an increasingly performative world, both Das and Koechlin are aware of how social media is reshaping conversations around beauty and self-worth. “Earlier also, whether in films or TV, there was a standardisation of beauty—tall, thin, fair,” says Das. “But now with social media, it’s far more obsessive and overwhelming. Everyone is an expert, giving remedies to look fair, young, and more desirable! They all make you feel ugly—the images in magazines, hoardings, films, ads...everywhere the women are picture perfect.” Her upbringing, Das believes, spared her the early burdens of self-scrutiny. Today, as a parent herself, she’s more aware than ever of the messaging around beauty. 

Koechlin is also wary of the influence of social media. “Beauty has become standardised. It’s like AI—you change the shape of your face, your body—and everybody looks the same,” she says. Both Das and Koechlin critique how young girls are internalising unrealistic beauty norms and standards, and how beauty has become a daily performance for women—whether through grooming or digital personas. Koechlin says she is preparing herself to guide her daughter through this minefield of unattainable beauty ideals. “It freaks me out for sure,” she admits. “We forget that because (our kids) are physically at home, they’re safe. But when they’re online, they are open to the world.” Das is mindful of how beauty narratives are passed on. With her son, she tries to create space for more holistic conversations about body image and self-worth.

Both Das and Koechlin emphasise on the need to raise kids who value who they are over how they look. But authenticity isn’t solemn, it’s, in fact, liberating, insist our cover stars. For Koechlin, age has made her more grounded and less inhibited as she embraces this evolving sense of self. “I think I’ve just generally become more relaxed about it (beauty),” she shares. “I love dancing. It’s something I didn’t do enough in my youth. Now, any chance I get, I put on a record and dance with my daughter.” Das says she has always chosen to opt out of this exhausting race. “It’s not that I don’t want to look beautiful, but that’s the 11th thing on my list. I’m a regular working woman—it’s just not a priority,” she insists.

What emerges from the two conversations I had with our cover stars is not a rejection of beauty but rather a redefining of it. For Das, beauty is not about perfection but about personhood. “It’s important that we are okay with the person we are, with all our warts and blemishes. No need to compete with others. To make one’s appearance one’s identity is a slippery slope. Life is a journey of finding one’s true self and shine through it all,” she opines.

Koechlin’s idea of beauty has settled into something more enduring. “True beauty is exploration and discovery,” she reflects. “Like when you fall in love with someone, and you’re exploring the details of who they are. That’s what’s exciting.”

Together, Das and Koechlin offer an alternative script—one where authenticity reigns supreme and elevates beauty. In taking up space, in speaking up, in showing up, and in saying no to the relentless pursuit of flawlessness, they embody courage, to be seen as you are, especially in an industry that often insists you be something else. As Das rightly puts it, “True beauty is felt, not just seen.”
 

Credits

Editor: Rasna Bhasin (@rasnabhasin)
Digital Editor: Sonal Ved (@sonalved)
Interview: Malika Halder (malikahalder)
Stylist: Samar Rajput (@samar.rajput05)
Cover Design: Mandeep Singh Khokhar (@mandy_khokhar19)
Editorial Coordinator: Shalini Kanojia  (@shalinikanojia)
Make-up Artist: Mitesh Rajani (@miteshrajani)
Hair Artist:Sonam Solanki (@sonamsolanski),  Agency: Feat Artists (@featartists)
Make-up Artist Assistant: Rishita Hindocha (@rishita.hindocha)
Fashion Assistant: Aditya Singh (@adityakamalsingh)
Kalki’s PR Agency: Straight Talk Communications (@straighttalkcomm)

Nandita is wearing a jacket by MIUNIKU (@miuniku).

Kalki is wearing an embroidered dress by Rahul Mishra (@rahulmishra_7), paired with earrings from House of Umrao (@house_of_umrao).

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