Child, Interrupted

• Many child actors were thrust in front of the camera by overambitious parents and spent their lives carrying the heavy burden of a childhood lost.

• Most challenges for child actors often surface not during filming, but after navigating fame, loss of structure, financial exposure, and identity shifts.

• A new book, Behind the Big Screen: The Untold Stories of Bollywood’s Child Actors by Sunanda Mehta and Suchitra Iyer attempts to trace child actors who were popular in the 70s and 80s, but seemed to have faded into oblivion as they reached their teens and adulthood.

At age six or seven, Baby Naaz from the 1950s was her family's sole earning member, having been pushed by her mother into films. She was taken to the studios daily, where her mother coaxed producers and directors to give her a chance.

Daisy Irani was famously quoted in a major publication as saying, “Honey and I had no childhood, no education. We didn’t go to school. We were pushed into acting by our parents. By the time we grew aware of our predicament, our childhood was gone. We made a lot of money, but got none of it. Our mother blew it all up, but no regrets.”

Actress Sarika’s mother created two identities for her as a child: one female, Baby Sarika, and one male, Master Suraj, to cater to the market for both male and female child performers; she hardly sent Sarika to school—a practice which left the young actress virtually illiterate at age eleven. Her mother also controlled her finances, even when she came of age and was physically abusive both on and off-set, even physically assaulting her daughter in front of fans.

Dilip Ghosh’s documentary, Children of the Silver Screen (1990) contains several such accounts of gruelling exploitation of child performers by film studios and ambitious parents.

A new book, Behind the Big Screen: The Untold Stories of Bollywood’s Child Actors by Sunanda Mehta and Suchitra Iyer attempts to trace child actors who were popular in the 70s and 80s, but seemed to have faded into oblivion as they reached their teens and adulthood. The intention is not just to find out what they are doing now, but also to figure out how they handled their fame at such a young age and, more importantly, its abrupt departure once they entered adolescence.

“What unravelled, though, as we spoke to them, were many layers to their stories—of how so many were thrust in front of the camera by overambitious parents and spent their lives carrying the heavy burden of a childhood lost, as also the happier narratives of those who entered the industry and took to it like fish to water,” says Suchitra Iyer. She continues, “Some had great memories of being pampered on the sets; others recounted heartbreaking tales of exploitation. Some felt blessed, others betrayed. We all know that success is a double-edged sword, but it does cut more deeply when it comes to the very young. And since you really are what your childhood is, as Prakash Jha says it so succinctly in his foreword in the book, we felt these stories must be told and heard by both the film industry and the parents, as well as the public at large. And, hopefully, bring about some change in the way the industry thinks about child actors and the parents about the desires of their own children and the balance between school and the spotlight.”

Anmol Ahuja, casting director and co-founder of Casting Bay, who works extensively with children, speaks about finding this balance and being mindful of never compromising their childhood, when you are co-creating something with children.

“I still remember when we were casting the now-iconic Flipkart commercials where children acted like adults. We knew the concept could be confusing for young minds, so instead of traditional auditions, we created a short workshop format,” he recalls. “It helped them understand what they were performing and why. The clarity made them confident and through that process, we discovered remarkable talent, some of whom went far beyond that one campaign,” he adds.

When asked about other challenges of working with child actors, he says: “One of the biggest challenges is ensuring that the material does not emotionally overwhelm them. Children can sometimes mimic emotions without fully grasping them and that’s a delicate line. We seek authenticity, but never at the cost of a child's emotional safety. Most importantly, children are still forming their sense of self.”

He highlights some more issues that can impact child artists on a film set: “Attention span and fatigue are other realities. Film sets can be over-stimulating and tiring. A child may be brilliant for five minutes and then shut down the next moment and that is natural. As filmmakers, we must adapt to them, not expect them to adapt to the pressures of the environment.”

Ahuja states that parental involvement is another layer. Some parents are supportive and grounded, while others may project ambition or expectations which can create stress for the child. In many ways, casting a child also means evaluating the support system around them.

Stories like Baby Sarika, Tabassum, Daisy Irani, Naaz etc abound because production houses have forever pushed back on welfare requirements such as working hours, rest periods, or tutors on set. Also, with parents not actively demanding better environments, tutors or rest periods for their children, production houses have probably gotten away with minimal compliance. “There was a major lack of awareness about having to treat child actors differently a few decades ago, bordering on negligence of the entire issue of child safety. In today’s age, when children are more informed and vocal about their rights and parents are more mindful about their children’s future, things are quickly changing for the better. Not only that, the new-age directors and production houses are also more conscious now of creating an environment which is well-suited and supportive for child actors,” says Sunanda Mehta.

“We start by acknowledging that those tragedies did not occur because the children were fragile but they occurred because the system failed them,” says Ahuja of the childhoods that were lost to fame.

Most challenges for child actors often surface not during filming, but after navigating fame, loss of structure, financial exposure, and identity shifts. With the rise in social media, the pressure to be ‘perfect’—in looks, behaviour, performance—has also increased for child actors, thereby compounding and complicating the challenges in their lives. Earlier, it was mainly balancing studies and film commitments; now, it’s also about visibility, followers, likes, shares and trolls. “We all know social media can have a damaging effect as far as self-confidence and self-image go, primarily because of its intrusive nature and often unreal expectations. Add to that both the fickle and brutal nature of the film industry, which even adults find difficult to cope with, and you can imagine what it must do to adolescents,” says Mehta. “They now need to combat the competitive world of films and the uncontrollable virtual universe of social media while trying to keep their feet on the ground in the real world they actually live in. The pressure is definitely there, making it difficult for them to switch off, relax and perhaps even stop acting after the shooting is over,” she adds.

So what has changed since the 60s and 70s for child actors? Is there any training or sensitisation within the industry about working with minors? Iyer elaborates: “In the 60s or 70s, for example, child actors were considered the same as adult actors—except, unfortunately, when it came to payment and perks. The children worked multiple shifts, without a break, even missing school and losing out on a normal childhood. There were also cases of pushy parents who exploited their children just so that they wouldn’t miss out on an opportunity. Production houses, too, rarely prioritised the well-being of the child actors over the demands of the shooting and getting their shots. Like Alankar Joshi said while recounting his story—despite his being one of the happiest ones in the book—a film would have the disclaimer in the beginning that no animals were harmed in the making of the film, but what about the children?”

Many film houses are now trying to adhere to the rules on child safety, mental health and working-hour limits, as per the new NCPCR guidelines 2022, which outline clear expectations for safe, age-appropriate environments. Having said this, only time will tell how well the production houses will continue to implement these norms rigorously. “Casting children comes with a responsibility that extends far beyond finding the best suitable actor to play a part. With adult actors, the focus is primarily on skill, emotional range and suitability for the role. With children, it becomes equally about well-being, consent, temperament, and guardianship,” says Ahuja.

These days, the statutory message before films and series mentions efforts to create “a safe space for children.” What does that truly require, I ask Ahuja. “A safe space is not a compliance line, it’s a culture. A safe space means the child goes home exactly as they came i.e. emotionally intact, still allowed to be themselves. It must be visible in intention, policy, and everyday behaviour on set,” he responds.

Some non-negotiable elements that he lists are are:

1. Clear consent and understanding: A child must know what they are doing, and why. They should never perform blindly on instruction.

2. A trained child-welfare officer on set: Someone whose only responsibility is emotional and physical safety—not the shot.

3. Shorter working hours and flexibility: Rest, play, and education must remain a priority.

4. Strict boundaries: No coercion disguised as direction, no inappropriate language or physicality.

6. Psychological support when needed: Especially for scenes involving heavy emotion or complex themes.

7. Respect for the child as a child: They are not commodities, not “mini adults,” and not defined by the role.

“Working with children in cinema is a privilege. They bring spontaneity, honesty, and emotional truth in a way adult actors often aspire to. And because they give so much, we owe them even more. A great performance is valuable, but never at the cost of a child losing the most precious years of his or her life. A safe childhood is non-negotiable,” concludes Ahuja. “If something doesn’t work for a child, we rewrite, we redirect, we find another approach.”

In the end, the industry does not need more child stars; it needs more children who grow up whole. Safeguarding their dreams, their rights and their sense of self isn’t an optional courtesy; it is the cost of allowing them onto a set at all. The camera may stop rolling, applause may fade, but childhood doesn’t get a retake. The stories we celebrate must never come at the expense of the children who live them.