Six years after Sushant Singh Rajput’s tragic suicide, Bollywood remains a kingdom where throne-cheiding heirs inherit empires while outsiders starve in the corridors of power. The question isn’t whether nepotism exists—it’s how the industry has evolved into a more sophisticated, more ruthless gatekeeping machine that systematically excludes first-generation actors while maintaining its uncomfortable, unbroken ties with the underworld.
The Great Nepotism Wave Post-Sushant
Sushant Singh Rajput’s death on June 14, 2020, became the face of the struggling outsider in Bollywood. A 34-year-old actor who started on television with “Pavitra Rishta” and successfully transitioned to cinema without any godfather, he was supposed to be the light at the end of the tunnel for struggling artists across the country. His tragic demise brought several unaddressed issues to the fore—the ones generally brushed under the carpet.
Since that devastating day, the nepotism debate has reignited repeatedly, but the industry’s response has been telling. Conversations with established actors, aspiring performers, directors, and producers all seem to believe that movies and stars may come and go, but nepotism is here to stay. The industry has not just tolerated nepotism; it has celebrated it, institutionalized it, and weaponized it against outsiders.
The Kid Who Never Knew: How Many Outsiders Actually Got Chances?
The numbers are devastating. Since Sushant’s death, approximately 10-12 actors without any family background have managed to break into Bollywood with significant roles. Let’s be clear about what this means: in an industry producing hundreds of films annually, with thousands of actors auditioning, only a dozen outsiders got meaningful opportunities over six years.
Kangana Ranaut, the Queen of Bollywood with no connections, has been quite vocal about the same. She appeared on channels speaking about the prevalent culture of nepotism and how it resulted in Sushant Singh Rajput’s death. Taapsee Pannu, originally from Delhi, entered the industry without family ties, challenging the system. But these are exceptions, not the rule.
Meanwhile, the third generation of film families has already been born. Children who’ve never faced rejection, never needed to audition, never understood struggle are being handed Rs. 50 crore contracts before their first film. The math is cruel: if 10 outsiders got chances in 6 years, and 50+ star kids launched in the same period, the ratio is 1:5. That’s not competition; that’s a caste system.
The Sophisticated Gatekeeping: Why Outsiders Can’t Break In
The nepotism debate: Nothing succeeds like success. Observers point out that you cannot sell something that doesn’t sell itself. This line, repeated by producers, is the industry’s excuse for its systematic exclusion. But the truth is more sinister.
Movie and star families may come and go, but nepotism is here to stay. The industry reflects this belief in every casting decision. Star kids get multiple failures forgiven—three flops become a learning journey. Outsiders get one failure and disappear forever. The safety net is not just unequal; it’s designed to ensure only certain people can survive.
Karan Johar and Mahesh Bhatt are being seen as the ugly faces of nepotism and favouritism. But they’re not the problem—they’re the symptom. The problem is an entire ecosystem where producers invest Rs. 100 crores and want guaranteed returns, so they choose the “safe” option: a known family name with built-in media coverage.
The Underworld Nexus: Bollywood’s Dirty Secret That Won’t Die
The connection between Bollywood and the underworld has been entrenched for decades. The underworld’s infiltration into the film industry began in the 1960s when gangsters like Karim Lala and Haji Mastan emerged as both feared crime bosses and powerful benefactors. Lala, known for kidnapping and drug-trafficking, was also the go-to problem solver for Bollywood stars.
The notorious link became public knowledge in 1993 when Sanjay Dutt was arrested for illegal firearms, connecting him to Chhota Shakeel. Salman Khan, one of Bollywood’s biggest stars, has also been linked to Dawood Ibrahim and Chhota Shakeel. The incriminating audiotapes presented to courts show several Bollywood personalities talking to the underworld, indicating unusual camaraderie.
What emerges is that information is being volunteered, and the very use of expletives indicates proximity. Several actors and actresses are known to have spoken over the telephone with the underworld because they are totally terrorized. The link is as old as India itself, traced to a government regulation that rendered cinema ineligible for legitimate financing.
Film stars openly flaunt their organized crime connections, and Bollywood’s A-list celebrities routinely attend lavish, well-publicized mafia parties around the world. In addition to financing and money laundering, film piracy, counterfeiting, and distribution have become lucrative activities for the underworld.
The Corrupt Connection: Why Nepotism Protects The Underworld
This is where the dark truth emerges. The underworld doesn’t care about nepotism per se, but it cares about control. Star families with established connections to crime bosses are predictable, controllable, and maintain the old networks. Outsiders—hungry, independent, unconnected—threaten this ecosystem.
The industry’s intimate relationship with the Indian underworld is considered one of the country’s worst-kept secrets. Haji Mastan produced films starring his mistress to promote her career. The system works because everyone knows everyone, and outsiders don’t know anyone.
When producers choose star kids, they’re not just choosing “safe” names—they’re choosing people embedded in existing power structures, including criminal ones. An outsider with no connections is harder to control, harder to manipulate, and more likely to expose the system.
The First Generation’s Plight: Fighting Two Enemies
First-generation actors today face a dual assault: they’re excluded by the nepotism machine while the industry’s underworld connections remain unchallenged. They fight for roles while stars attend mafia parties. They audition for Rs. 500,000 while star kids get Rs. 50 crores. They struggle for recognition while crime bosses fund films.
The link between Bollywood and organized crime highlights the close, ongoing nexus. Author Ronak Desai writes that this relationship is as old as India itself. The system survives because it’s profitable for everyone involved—producers get financed, stars get protected, and underworld gets legit income.
The Future: Will Change Ever Come?
Every conversation suggests nepotism is permanent. The industry reflects this belief. But the question isn’t whether change will come—it’s whether it will come before the system destroys itself.
When an industry produces 10 outsiders in 6 years while launching 50 star kids, when it maintains underworld ties while claiming moral superiority, when it celebrates heirs who’ve never faced rejection while killing dreams of those who did—it’s not just unfair. It’s unsustainable.
Sushant Singh Rajput’s death was supposed to be a wake-up call. Instead, it became a footnote. The throne remains occupied. The gatekeepers remain gatekeepers. The underworld remains connected. And the outsiders remain outside.
The question isn’t whether Bollywood will change. The question is: will it change before the next Sushant?
