“The law opens all subjects for study. If you are studying a murder case, you will probably have to delve into the science behind poisoning or the physics of the force of a blow to the chest. If you are trying to prove the facts of a matter involving a ticketing service, you might need to study how the programming of a website like MakeMyTrip works. Moreover, law itself often requires the analysis of transactions, thereby bringing in elements of commerce. This interdisciplinary nature of law, which places a lawyer in the shoes of every subject humanly possible, is the reason I chose to pursue it.”
This was my response to the professor at ILS Law College when she asked me why I had chosen law. While my peers gave flamboyant answers that seemed to impress her, mine left her in a deep state of shock. Though rehearsed to sound dramatic and appealing, I was well aware that the question would not determine my admission—it was a stereotypical query, after all.
From the outset, my decision to choose law was not meant to be stereotypical. Each day, I strived to learn something new. Now, 10 years after graduating from law school (although calling it a “law school” might be a stretch), I find myself reflecting on my journey.
In recent months, while interviewing for various roles, I’ve frequently been asked whether I am a litigation lawyer or a non-litigation lawyer, and whether I prefer in-house or law firm work. My simple answer has always been, “My pursuit of law has taken me down many paths, and I have enjoyed most of them because of their dynamic nature.” Internally, however, I find myself holding back an unusual thought: I do not want to end up like Jagdish Raj, who holds the Guinness World Record for being the most typecast actor. He played a police inspector in 144 films. Imagine embodying the same role for 30 years—no promotion, no demotion, no variation, not even an undercover cop! That, to me, would be a boring life.
If I were Jagdish Raj, my farewell note to the Indian Film Industry would read something like this:
Dear Respected Members of the Indian Film Fraternity,
As I pen down my thoughts today, I am filled with immense gratitude and pride for the illustrious journey I have had in Indian cinema.
Many of you know me as the actor widely recognized for portraying a police inspector on screen—a role that has earned me a Guinness World Record for playing it more than 144 times. I cannot express enough how much joy and fulfillment this journey has brought me. The trust you placed in me to embody authority, justice, and integrity on screen was both a privilege and an honor. My roles as an inspector became a defining part of who I am, and I deeply cherish the bond I have shared with audiences who connected with my performances.
However, as I reflect on my career, I can’t help but wonder—could I have done more? Cinema, as we know, is a vast canvas for storytelling, and I often dreamed of exploring characters beyond the uniform. I aspired to portray the vulnerabilities, complexities, and nuances of human life through diverse roles. Perhaps I could have been the compassionate father, the conflicted anti-hero, or the wise mentor. I believe these roles, too, would have allowed me to contribute to the art and craft of cinema in meaningful ways.
I write this not with regret but with a heartfelt acknowledgment of unrealized potential. It is a gentle reminder of the importance of versatility in our industry—to allow actors to grow and challenge themselves with varied roles. While I am eternally grateful for the iconic legacy of Inspector Jagdish Raj, I wish I had the chance to diversify my repertoire further.
To all the talented actors, filmmakers, and visionaries shaping the future of Indian cinema, I urge you to explore uncharted territories, push boundaries, and embrace roles that challenge your artistry. The journey of an artist thrives on constant evolution.
Let all who tread this silver reel,
Find success and joy that they can feel.
But spare them the mold that caged my art—
A khaki stereotype that broke my heart.
Not Inspector,
Jagdish Raj
Ek Kalakar, Kal Aur Aaj
The counterargument to this perspective is the age-old saying, “A jack of all trades is a master of none.” Often misinterpreted as criticism, the full quote actually offers a more nuanced view: “A jack of all trades is a master of none, but oftentimes better than master of one.” This highlights the value of versatility, suggesting that a broad skill set often provides a more holistic perspective than narrow specialization.
In the context of law, this sentiment holds particular relevance. A lawyer who can navigate both litigation and non-litigation work, in-house roles, and law firm environments is better equipped to address the complexities of modern legal challenges. The law does not exist in isolation, and neither should its practitioners. While specialization has its merits, adaptability and breadth of knowledge empower lawyers to deliver more comprehensive and innovative solutions. By embracing dynamism, one becomes not only a better lawyer but also a more effective problem-solver, leader, and thinker.
Am I wrong to think this way? Or am I simply delusional?
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