‘Entrepreneurship is like marriage. Don't do it unless you are sure’: Why Dubai RJ Malavika Varadan left radio to build a thriving theatre school for kids

Dubai: If you lived in Dubai in the late 2000s or early 2010s, chances are you woke up to Malavika Varadan's voice.

For nearly 13 years, she was one of the UAE's best-known radio hosts, chatting effortlessly with listeners, interviewing celebrities and becoming a familiar part of people's morning routines. Then she did something few people with a successful media career dare to do: She walked away.

Today, the microphone has been replaced by classrooms, rehearsals and children. But don't call it a career switch. For Malavika, it was simply coming home.

"Theatre's actually been my first love," she says.

"I fell in love with theatre when I was in school. It was what led me to radio actually, because they were looking for people who were spontaneous, who had that improv, who weren't afraid of an audience. They found us in theatre."

Radio may have brought her to Dubai, but theatre is what ultimately pulled her back.

"Radio first brought me to the UAE and I spent the better part of 13 years on radio."

Leaving that comfort wasn't easy. After all, there's security in a steady pay cheque and familiarity in doing something you're good at. Entrepreneurship, on the other hand, comes with no guarantees.

Which is why Malavika has one piece of advice for anyone romanticising the founder life.

"Entrepreneurship is like marriage. Don't do it unless you can't imagine a life without it. Don't take the plunge. Don't put a ring on it unless you're absolutely sure. Unless you know that you can't imagine a future without this."

It's a refreshingly honest take in an era where everyone seems to want to become a founder.

For her, building a business was never the goal.

"Entrepreneurship was secondary to the work itself. I see myself first as a teacher and then as an entrepreneur."

And if money disappeared tomorrow?

"To this day, if I didn't earn a dirham out of it, I would still do it because I love my kids. I love my class. I love what I do. I love playing with them. It's truly a passion."

That passion has evolved into a thriving career, but she is quick to point out that people often underestimate creative industries.

"Many people look back and say, 'Oh, that's so cute that you run a little theatre around the city.' No, actually it's a very profitable, thriving business that's grown six times in six years."

Yet ask her what she's most proud of, and she doesn't talk about growth charts or balance sheets.

She talks about confidence.

In a world where children are growing up glued to screens and adults spend hours perfecting themselves on social media, Varadan believes one skill has become more valuable than ever: knowing how to communicate.

"A lot of people believe confident speaking is something you're just born with. I disagree. I think it's a skill that can be trained very much like maths or science."

She says confidence isn't magic.

"There is a certain posture. There is a certain rhythm. There is a language. There is a way in which you phrase your ideas. We figure out what to say and then we train how to say it."

It's also why she worries about children spending more time looking at devices than looking at people.

"If there is a hill I'll die on, it is that children need a no-screen childhood because it is absolutely ruining their ability to focus."

The consequences, she says, go beyond short attention spans.

"It's ruining their self-esteem. When I see young girls exposed to TikTok and social media and that filtered, constantly polished image... it breaks my heart."

She has similar concerns for boys.

"They're constantly in this high-strung gaming environment. They're so used to constant dopamine kicks that they find the real world kind of boring. That's a bit scary because they have to live in the real world. They need connection. They need friends."

Ironically, after years of speaking for a living, Malavika believes the most underrated skill any teacher—or leader—can possess isn't speaking at all.

"I think a teacher needs to be listening 90 per cent of the time and speaking 10 per cent of the time. Our biggest role is to hear what they say, be curious and ask some questions rather than give them lectures."

Another lesson she's learnt has come from working almost exclusively with women.

"Women run our shows, they run our stages, they run our business," she says. Why?

"If there's one thing women know how to do, it's budget. We've seen our mums and our grandmothers do this for centuries. You give them a finite budget and they make sure everyone in the home has a beautiful meal."

She also believes women naturally bring empathy into leadership.

"We treat our classrooms like gardens. They require nurture and care. You invest in something and then wait for the long term."

Her thriving theatre and arts school, The Hive, is in the midst of running a children's theatre summer festival. It concludes this weekend, June 28.

"Many see arts as a side-hustle ... We want arts to be approachable. If there's anything that COVID taught us that arts thrived ... To all the parents out there, children need to in-person interaction. Kids in The Hive want to be in the company of each other. Let's prioritize connection," said Malavika.

So how did Dubai help her re-invent the wheel?

"I came here at the age of 21 for a weekend show on radio. I was in my flip-flops, jeans and T-shirt thinking, 'Okay, cool, let's check this out.'"

She ended up building an entirely different life.

"The UAE has given me everything I have, really. It's given me my identity, my work, my friends, my family. It's been fantastic for me."

And after nearly two decades of reinventing herself—from theatre kid to radio star, from broadcaster to entrepreneur and educator—she believes there's one reason so many people manage to build second and third careers here.

"Dubai really is one of those cities where it favours the brave."