It makes you laugh, it makes you sad, it makes you empathise. It is also entertaining from start to finish. Like his films, Karan Johar’s autobiography An Unsuitable Boy is an emotional but breezy effort; only we finally have the full story, fragments of which we have already seen on celluloid in his films.
In a no-holds-barred account of his life, the filmmaker tells the world about his insecure childhood, his career and relationships, even addressing the various rumours about him. What emerges is not the profile of an uber-cool, rich and successful Bollywood personality, but the story of an emotional and lonely human being in a mid-life crisis who realises that wealth and success are not the barometers of a rich life.
Johar begins with his childhood, perhaps the most traumatic time of his life. A single child with the disadvantage of being an introvert, plus chubby, he constantly yearned to be accepted. So much so that at school, a teacher had to ask in class if anyone wanted to be friends with him. Not surprisingly, he found solace in food, describing in tragicomic detail how gastronomic adventures substituted for other childhood escapades.
He recalls how his father never really found success in the film business, which was also the reason why his own interest in anything filmy was suppressed by his parents. But this was where his destiny lay, which found him ditching a career in his father’s export business at the last minute and landing on the sets of Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge as assistant director to Aditya Chopra. Another push by Chopra and Shah Rukh Khan led him to make a film of his own. Kuch Kuch Hota Hai was a phenomenal success, and Johar finally found his calling in life. Today, he has a successful production house, hit television show Koffee with Karan where he is “naughty, funny and cute”, and other reality shows to his credit.
But beyond this Wikipedia-like profile is a person who admits he is insecure, lonely and even sad. Perhaps the most bold and honest admission comes when he reveals he is thinking of having a child, through surrogacy or adoption, who will be akin to “insurance in old age”. Someone who pushes his wheelchair when he is old, someone who sees him through death, and someone he can leave his material assets to.
In more brutally honest admissions, he talks of his sexual orientation, stopping just short of saying the three words. However, he confesses to paid sex and how it is still an option for him. It’s also interesting to read how he gives details of his relationships, misunderstandings and fallouts with his friends, including Shah Rukh Khan, Aditya Chopra, Kajol, etc, even addressing (false) rumours of him and Shah Rukh being sexually involved.
On his filmmaking, Johar concedes that he is unable to make films that go beyond human drama, fun and frolic, but refuses to be apologetic about it. However, he indulges in some self-flogging, pointing out blunders in his first venture, Kuch Kuch Hota Hai, admitting Kabhi Alvida Naa Kehna didn’t really add up, and agreeing with critics that his biggest commercial success, Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham, was, indeed, “old wine in a new bottle”.
One also gets a peep into Bollywood through the years, from the time actors were considered to have a higher status than producers, to today’s generation of actors, who, ironically, are less open in their interactions despite existing in the world of Twitter. For the same reason, Johar predicts how the Khans are perhaps the last superstars in Bollywood, as the new breed of actors refuse to share enough of themselves with people to win their love. A mild warning comes in the form of calling cinema the troubled child who needs therapy, while television is the annoying mother-in-law, and digital becomes the patriarch of the family.
However, Bollywood will always inspire voyeuristic interest among the public that will ensure its longevity, and which also explains why this book can be tackled in less than a couple of hours.
