World Mental Health Day: How Shah Rukh Khan and Alia Bhatt made therapy mainstream with 'Dear Zindagi'

Dubai: “I’m not fixing you,” says Jehangir Khan (a dishy and incredibly suave Shah Rukh Khan) to a vulnerable Kiara (Alia Bhatt) in Dear Zindagi.

“I’m helping you understand yourself.” Eight years later, that single line still feels revolutionary.

In a world where mental health is finally part of dinner table conversations, Dear Zindagi stands tall as a film that got there early — long before “therapy-speak” became part of pop culture.

Directed by Gauri Shinde, the 2016 drama about a young woman navigating heartbreak, burnout, and self-worth remains one of Hindi cinema’s most nuanced depictions of emotional well-being.

A film that aged beautifully

Revisiting it today, especially around World Mental Health Day, Dear Zindagi feels like that rare Hindi film with true repeat value. It’s gentle, wise, and quietly radical. Shah Rukh Khan plays Jehangir, a therapist who listens — not lectures. Alia Bhatt’s Kiara, meanwhile, is messy, flawed, and very real. Watching her untangle her thoughts feels like watching yourself in therapy: uncomfortable, honest, freeing.

When I interviewed Shah Rukh and Alia back in 2016, what struck me most was their awareness of what this film was trying to say — without preaching.

“Our job is done only when you watch the film,” Khan told me back then. “It dwells and speaks about a subject that’s the need of the hour in a fun and easy manner.”

And it did. It made mental health accessible — wrapped in warm sunlight, witty conversations, and that irresistible Shah Rukh charm. It's one of the rare movies where I liked it more while I re-watched it.

The tenderness of listening

What Jehangir offers Kiara is not advice, but presence. “Sometimes, you just need someone who listens without judging you,” Khan had said. “You don’t want that person to be a Mr Fix-It. You just want them to say it’s all right.”

That’s the kind of emotional generosity most of us crave — and what makes Dear Zindagi timeless.

Bhatt, who called her therapist-character dynamic with SRK “one of the most beautiful relationships I’ve ever portrayed,” told me something that still resonates:
“He doesn’t discard what you’re feeling. According to him, feeling bad isn’t always a bad thing. That’s such a great thing to hear.”

It’s a line that encapsulates the film’s essence: it’s okay to not be okay.

Before it was trendy

Long before Instagram reels started preaching self-care, Dear Zindagi dared to show therapy as normal — even aspirational. It was cinematic soft power for mental health. And like Malayalam hit Kumbalangi Nights, another gem that approached masculinity and emotional vulnerability with rare grace, Dear Zindagi didn’t just tell a story — it healed something in the audience.

Both films — one set in urban Mumbai, the other in coastal Kerala — proved that healing doesn’t have to be loud. It can be tender, funny, awkward, and quietly transformative.

A love letter to life

When I asked them what they’d write in a letter to “Zindagi”, Shah Rukh’s answer was simple: “Yours gratefully, Shah Rukh.”

And Alia added, “Dear life, thank you for being alive.”

Eight years on, that gratitude feels like the heart of the film. In an era where burnout, overwork, and disconnection define so many lives, Dear Zindagi reminds us to pause, feel, and begin again.

So, if you’re scrolling through Netflix tonight, give it another watch.
It’s not just a film — it’s a gentle reminder to check in with yourself.

Because sometimes, healing begins with a story.