New Delhi: Filmmaker Mohit Suri reflects on his two-decade-long journey from the raw, emotional landscapes of Zeher and Aashiqui 2 to his latest collaboration with Yash Raj Films, Saiyaara. The film stars debutants Ahaan Panday and Aneet Padda and will hit the theatres on July 18.
Speaking with TV9, the popular director opens up about the artistic shift that came with creative freedom, the invaluable support from Aditya Chopra, and his decision to cast newcomers over big-ticket stars. Scroll down to read the full interview!
Bharti: So, the shift that happened—you come from a school I know of, to another school, which is a completely different world. When that shift happened, what was the change that came into Mohit? Because the cinema that you’re making now seems to be similar to what you love making. Tell me about the shift, if at all there was one.
Mohit: The adjustment came, and the maturity came, I think largely because Adi sir opened up and realized that he needed to let me be the filmmaker. I should give him credit for that. They asked me if I had a script. I told them I did, but I wasn’t sure they’d ever accept something so dramatic. But he said, “Among all the love stories I’ve read, this is the one I want to make.” I was surprised they agreed, because it’s not a conventional rom-com.
Bharti: I know. It’s not the usual Yash Raj kind of cinema, with the gentle love stories they tell. Yours are full of… well, most of your love stories have a lot of angst, people say.
Mohit: But you know what I realized? At the core, the emotions aren’t necessarily woke or very new age. They’re classic. They give importance to love and music. That’s one of the fundamental similarities between Vishesh Films and Yash Raj, I think. They may do it with bigger stars, but the fundamentals are the same—importance to story, emotion, and music. That’s where the synergy worked. I give them full credit for letting me make the film I wanted to make.
I remember when he saw the film recently. Rani ma’am was ecstatic and crying. She turned to Adi sir and said, “What a beautiful film you made.” He said, “I didn’t make anything. This boy did it.” It takes a lot for someone to understand what to give to a director.
Bharti: Had he watched your films before collaborating with you?
Mohit: He’s watched all my films. It was a fanboy moment for me. I’ve also watched DDLJ and always wanted to make films after seeing those. My aunt used to take us to watch every Diwali release, every Yash Ji or Adi sir film—DDLJ, Dil To Pagal Hai, Veer-Zaara—all those great love stories. So when I met Adi sir and realized he had watched every film of mine—even the bad ones—I was stunned. Apparently, he watches every film. At the same time, I was a little embarrassed. There are some films you wish they hadn’t seen (laughs).
Bharti: I’m told he goes to theatres every Friday.
Mohit: That’s right. Some of the observations he made about my films were…
Bharti: What were those observations?
Mohit: I asked him, “How come you took me even after seeing the bad ones?” And he told me something great that will stay with me. He said, “Only a filmmaker will make a bad film. A project maker will play safe. He’ll do everything by the book. A filmmaker will go wrong sometimes. But the one who can make a good film is also the one who can make a bad film.” He appreciated that I gave importance to music and emotion.
Bharti: That’s what Bhatt sahab told me. That’s another skill you have.
Mohit: Yeah, I think that became a survival mechanism. Honestly, Bharti, when we made Zeher—you were there—Emraan was new. How would we get people to watch the film? Bigger films were being made with stars and bigger budgets. So we realized: with five promos of theirs, we needed one of ours that could rise. That’s when “Woh Lamhe Woh Baatein,” “Aadat,” “Kya Mujhe Pyaar Hai” came. We treated the music like a star that needed pampering and attention. It became a way of life.
Even when Aashiqui 2 happened, most senior music directors didn’t want to work with me. They were scared of living up to Aashiqui 1, and rightfully so. But I found these young guys—Mithoon, Ankit Tiwari—they didn’t care. They were just happy to be part of Aashiqui and they gave me their best music. So yeah, survival turned into style.
Bharti: That became your USP. When this film happened, did Adi give you options for established stars or newcomers?
Mohit: It was actually the other way around. My previous film hadn’t done well, and suddenly, everyone was making loud, larger-than-life action films post-Covid. Even OTT had gone out-there and offbeat. I realized, in all this noise, if I said something, it wouldn’t stand out. So I said, let’s play music and do a musical love story. I started writing. People told me I was wasting time and money. But I didn’t care. Most newcomers were launching directly on OTT. I thought maybe we’ll go to OTT too.
Then I met Sumana Ghosh, the creative producer, and she said Adi sir and Akshaye Widhani were looking for a love story. I said, I have one. I even called a couple of actor friends, asked if they’d do it. They said yes. When I met Adi sir, I threw those names at him, thinking I’d be prepared. He turned around and said, “My marketing team will love these names, but you’ll be making a flop. Your story needs actors aged 20 to 25.”
I said, yes, the characters are falling in love for the first time, they’re struggling. Who does that at 35 or 40? I asked, “But who will put money into this kind of film?” He said, “I will. That’s not your concern. Just give me great music and your best film.”
I said, “Done.”
He said, “Then we’re making this film with newcomers.” Imagine, a company with access to the biggest stars choosing to make a film with newcomers. That was liberating.
Bharti: You’ve worked with many newcomers. Do you plan to continue doing that?
Mohit: Every five years, for sure! It keeps me on my toes. Bhatt sahab once messaged me a six-page message after seeing this film’s teaser. I couldn’t tell if he was praising me or yelling. But he said, “I told you not to conform to what the industry wants. Your strength is making your film.” And I did.
Bharti: There’s no pressure. You can mould them too.
Mohit: Totally. None of the stars I’ve worked with have been difficult, but they have established images that are hard to break. This film needed characters falling in love for the first time, still struggling. It’s hard to convince audiences with already-successful stars. So casting newcomers just made sense. Plus, it keeps me relevant. Like I do with music—I always include one newcomer singer or composer. That’s how I’ve stayed alive for 20 years.
Bharti: It’s been 20 years. I remember being on your first set!
Mohit: That was in Goa, right?
Bharti: Yes! I watched the trailer. Ahaan has a very distinct voice.
Mohit: Everyone says that, but I can’t take credit. That’s just him.
Bharti: How did Ahaan happen? Was he already around?
Mohit: He was in the system. There was a film planned before Covid that didn’t work out. He was even told he could move on and take other offers, but he stuck around. When Adi sir mentioned him, I saw his auditions. They were fine, technically efficient, but something was missing. Adi told me, “Tell him no. You know his dad, so just go to dinner with him and end it.”
So I took him out to dinner, planning to say no. Told him to stop calling me sir, call me Mohit. He started with “bro bro bro” (laughs). I was supposed to be home by 11:30. I ended up out with him till 3 a.m. And suddenly, I saw this brash, angsty, wild side of him. That’s when I knew—he *was* my character.
Auditions aren’t fair. They have actors perform iconic scenes and compare them to others. But this boy, when he wasn’t performing, he *was* the character. I told Adi sir the next day: he’s the one.
As for the girl—Shanoo Sharma showed me her audition. It was shot on a mobile phone, and she was spectacular. She was giving her final exams in Delhi and said, “I’ll come after my last paper.” We waited for her, and she nailed the audition. She’s a Punjabi city girl, but with Indian, middle-class values. Exactly what I needed.
Bharti: Why are your heroes always full of angst and anger?
Mohit: (laughs) Kunal Deshmukh and Sonali once had a script, and Bhatt sahab said, “Mohit can’t make this, there’s not enough anger!” Maybe it came from growing up without a parent. I was raised by my dad like a roommate. He lost his wife young, and we were like two boys in a house. Maybe that fight-or-flight instinct shaped me. It’s not anger, it’s drive.
Bharti: Do you put a bit of yourself into your characters?
Mohit: All of it. Sonali once said I made the Saiyaara hero look and behave like me. I’m married now with kids, so some things have changed. But I believe every good director leaves a piece of themselves in their film. If I don’t see that, I feel they’re pretending. Your morality always seeps into your heroes.
Bharti: How did Bhatt sahab react to the film?
Mohit: He said, “Are you ready?” I said, “I guess I have to be.” After watching it, he sent a six-page WhatsApp message. He said, “This isn’t a remix, this is a rebirth. You’ve destroyed yourself and created something new.” He’s the only one who got it right. I’m not the same person I was during Aashiqui. Back then, I was single, had lost my dad, had no family. Now I have a wife, kids. I’m dealing with other emotions. That reflects in Saiyaara. It’s a different film.
Bharti: Looking back 20 years, what has changed in you?
Mohit: I still have the same angst. I just control it better now. Earlier it came out in different ways—films, behavior. Now, I manage it.
Bharti: Did marriage make you more responsible?
Mohit: Not marriage. I was with Udita since Zeher. But after my daughter and son, yes. That changed me. Udita gave me what I never had—a family. My father raised me like a roommate, not a dad. When he remarried, it was like two guys talking about falling in love. But with Udita and the kids, I found a real family.
Now, she’s a DJ, goes to parties. I’m happy staying home with the kids. She tells me to take her out to dinner, and I say, “I want home food.” I’ve eaten out all my life. Home is what I value now. I’m no longer that banjaara.
Bharti: As a director, how does failure and success affect you?
Mohit: Success is a relief. Failure is dark. I lock myself in a room. Bhatt sahab sometimes shouts at me to get out. If someone says they forget it in two days, they aren’t passionate. Of course it matters. You put yourself out there. It’s not about money. It’s about being seen, understood. I’ve done 14 films in 20 years. That’s not bad. And honestly, I’ve learned more from my failures. In success, people hide your flaws. In failure, they teach you—even if that’s often nonsense too.
Bharti: What’s one thing you learned from Adi?
Mohit: So much. I had small filmmaker complexes. He told me to break out of them. Like, don’t be scared to make a DCP and see a scene on the big screen. We never had that luxury. He moved me to a bigger editing room, said, “You’re making cinema, not small screen content.” He even said, “Shoot one day with the new actors to see if it works. So what if it fails? It’s one day.” That’s big-hearted filmmaking.
He comes from a film family. He built a studio that’s not just real estate, it’s a place to *make* movies. He enables directors to do their best.
Bharti: Tell me a bit more about Ahaan. People want to know where this boy is going.
Mohit: It’s like a mother praising her child—it’s hard for me to judge him. But honestly, there’s depth in these kids. During marketing, people gave vague ideas. Ahaan said, “Why are we doing this? This isn’t what the film is.” He’s not chasing fame. He’s chasing the role. He even asked Sumana on set, “What did you see in me? Why did you give me this part?” That humility is rare.
Bharti: Would you say this generation is more practical?
Mohit: They’re more emotionally expressive. Ahaan used to get upset about everything, but he’s grown. Shanoo trained him well. And not getting that earlier film helped too. He had a very influential friend circle. Imagine going back after that film didn’t happen. But he kept working.
Even for small things—like in the film, there’s a band—I told him, don’t act like the star. Be one of them. So he took them to a water park. Later, when I was yelling at him on set, those guys were backing him! That maturity is rare.
Bharti: You’re launching two newcomers. That’s a lot of responsibility.
Mohit: They didn’t let me feel it. I cast them as the characters I needed—people aged 20 to 25. No one made me feel responsible for their careers. Honestly, I felt more pressure to live up to the Yash Raj emotional love story. I felt like the newcomer here. My producer is new. My writer is new. My creative producer’s new. These actors are new. Even the musicians are new. It felt like newcomers making a film for a studio. That feeling is rare.
Bharti: Bhatt sahab said this film made you an independent force.
Mohit: He’s been trying to get rid of me since Aashiqui! (laughs) He wants me to be independent. But no matter what, I talk to him. He doesn’t interfere professionally. He helps you as a human.
I had a scene where the actor gets violent with his father. I wondered if I was pushing it too far, given the studio’s lineage. I messaged Bhatt sahab. He called me, said, “Now what happened?” I told him the scene. He didn’t know the script, but he said, “What a beautiful profile picture—your son’s hand in yours. I know your relationship with your father. You can never make that scene emotionally incorrect.”
So while he wants me to be independent, I’ll always be emotionally connected to him.