Short read: Bollywood bawarchi no 1. The rise of Dilip, Farah Khan’s cook

“Dilip Mukhiya, a 42-year-old migrant from a small Bihar village, became an internet sensation as Farah Khan’s cook. Starting with just Rs 250, his unexpected fame through YouTube videos and subsequent ad campaigns transformed him into a local celebrity.”

Ms Yadav’s article gives us details of Dilip’s rise from the grinding poverty of the Madhubani district in Bihar to life as a cook first in Delhi and then in Mumbai until he landed a job at Farah Khan’s residence 13 years ago. Her article then delves into the possibility that the recognition Dilip is now receiving on social media might represent the realisation among affluent Indians that those who serve are just as important as the rest of us:

“The man whom Shruti Haasan calls “the real star.” The man Jackie Shroff corrects when he calls him “Beeru” instead of “Beedu.” The man royals from Rajasthan greet with excitement….

Brands spotted him almost instantly. In just one year on the internet, Dilip has appeared in advertisements for Myntra, Amazon, Urban Company, Flipkart, skincare brands, washing machines, pressure cookers, organic food, and even shot a cameo with Shah Rukh Khan for an ad. He has walked onstage at YouTube FanFest, shot inside palaces, posed with influencers, and travelled abroad…

Mumbai has long been dependent on the labour of UP-Bihar workers, be it cooks, cleaners, drivers, or construction hands. In public imagination, they appear as a compressed identity: poor, overworked, resented, mocked, and largely unseen. But Dilip turns this narrative on its head.

He has become a rare figure whose Bihariness, migrant grit, and desi humour are applauded and celebrated in Mumbai’s celebrity circles. He is both a typical Bihari migrant and a complete outlier. Both an Everyman and a one-in-a-million story.”

Ms Yadav then travels to Dilip’s village in Bihar and says that the recognition Dilip is receiving is lifting up the spirits of his community [note: ‘Mallah’ refers to people from the fisherman community]:

“The story of Dilip isn’t like one of crores of Bihari migrants landing in Mumbai with stars in his eyes or all his life’s ambitions bundled up in a duffel bag on a train. It isn’t the story of the rise of blue-collar worker influencers. It isn’t a story of a Mallah man of rural Bihar escaping the caste grid either. His story defies all the boxes that helped forge his identity. Dilip is in a box of his own making; a life crafted not by a pre-existing destiny but by pure chance, timing, and a can-do attitude…

At Dilip’s unfinished house in the village, a cluster of women sit on the floor beside a stack of hay.

Some wore floral polyester sarees, some simple cotton. All of them are Dilip’s fans.

“Devar ji ke dekhe to hasi laagat rahe (When I see my brother-in-law, I can’t help but laugh),” one of his sisters-in-law, Parmila Devi, said.

They giggled as they recalled a line from one of the videos.

“Madam ji puche chai banata hai Dilip? To bola, haan, hum pee liya hai (Madam asked him if he made tea, and he replied, Yes, I drank it too),” Parmila Devi cackled, slapping her thigh as the other women – many his sisters-in-law, some neighbours from the Jeevika self-help group – joined in.

Words like “shoot,” “views,” “millions,” and “Bollywood” now float casually, even among women who have never left the district.”