When I met Salman Khan in Dubai: His playful jabs and why watching his Eid blockbuster Sikandar is not breaking the law

Dubai: Interviewing Bollywood’s OG bad boy and blockbuster machine Salman Khan has always been a hit or miss. You never quite know which version you’re going to get — the surly Salman who appears disinterested in both life and your questions, or the flippant one who treats the interview like a casual detour on his way to something more interesting.

But what keeps him endlessly entertaining is the way he dials up the swagger. He walks in with his chest puffed out and exudes an entitled energy that only a box-office behemoth like him can command.

Fortunately, when I met him in Dubai this Saturday during his promotional tour for his Eid release Sikandar, he was in a jolly mood. He was ready to roast, act mock-offended, and lean into his larger-than-life persona. But why wouldn’t he be?

Our interviews were scheduled for 5pm but began three hours later. Imagine the kind of ego-stroking it takes to have a room full of local media patiently waiting for a few precious minutes with the man. There’s no apology, no contrition — just this vibe that time starts when he enters the room.

At the press conference just before our sit-down interviews, I had a hunch he was in a playful mood. I could hear him humming an old Bollywood song featured in Sikandar — and I must admit, he had a surprisingly good voice.

Just before the cameras rolled, I noticed Salman Khan struggling to figure out how to strap on his lapel microphone. I offered to help and ended up pinning it on for him — a small, unexpected moment that felt like a brief crack in his otherwise puffed-up armour.

Now back to the interview. We were told we had just three questions, and I playfully remarked that it felt like speed dating — where we had to impress each other. But Salman doesn’t impress. He just makes an impression.

He kicked things off by asking if I was going to watch his film — in a half-joking, half-interrogative tone.

I told him yes — I’d already booked my 8am ticket at a cinema 40 minutes away.

That’s when the roast began.

“My God… So far, we must go and watch the film. But only do things you like doing. I love that. Watching my film is not against the law. And watching Sikandar is not against the law at all.”

Coming from a man who’s had multiple run-ins with the law — including the infamous 2002 hit-and-run case, in which he was accused of killing a homeless man and injuring four others with his Land Cruiser in Mumbai streets and later acquitted — that line carried a certain ironic punch.

But Salman wasn’t done.

“How loyal are you to your job?” he continued. “To all your colleagues who are waiting outside to interview me?”

The tone was playful, but the message was clear – he wanted all the interviews wrapped up in a snap.

That set the tone for the rest of our five-minute interaction: quick, sharp, and laced with commentary that blurred the line between performance and philosophy.

“No royalty. Loyalty. I am Bollywood loyalty. In fact, nothing — nothing above loyalty. In my opinion. My eyes.”

He had a point. His frenzied fans could put the growing army of BTS supporters to shame. In their jaundiced eyes and myopic lens, their Salman bhai [bro] could never set a foot wrong. Even if he is accused of hunting down endangered species of blackbucks or mowing down people on the streets with his Land Cruiser while drunk, his fans have stood by him like a rock. His movies have never been critic-friendly, but they are critic-proof too. In the interview, he doesn’t even try to be modest about it.

“Yes. Yes,” he said, as if it were the most obvious truth in the world.

When asked why audiences should watch Sikandar, his response was pure gold laced with arrogance and conceit.

“Watch it if you want to watch it. Don’t watch it if you don’t want to watch it.”

Rashmika, his co-star, swooped in with the expected reassurance:

“It’s got everything you want in a film. It’s an entertainer. You’re going to the theatres to whistle, dance, laugh — and we’re going to give you all of that.”

Later, in a rare reflective moment, Salman described his 35-year career in a way only he can:

“I look at it like it started the day before yesterday. Sikandar will release yesterday. And from now on, my career starts again.”

But Sikandar breaks tradition — it’s not releasing on a Friday like most Bollywood films, but on a Sunday. Salman addressed the shift with his signature mix of apology and flair:

“The enthusiastic fans would’ve loved to see the film on a Friday, then Saturday, and again on Sunday. My sincere apologies to them. The film is releasing on Sunday, the 30th. We couldn’t release it on a Friday.”

And finally, the mic-drop moment:

“Every day is a Friday for a Salman fan. But this Friday… this Friday comes two days later.”

Five minutes, a loyalty test, a light roasting, and a few philosophical riddles later, I was reminded why interviewing Salman Khan will never be a straightforward Q&A. It’s a performance. A persona. A press encounter turned monologue.

And even when he’s in a rush, he makes sure you remember who’s running the show.

But remember — this is transient. Next time I meet him, he might just morph into that unfriendly, cold bloke who’d rather be anywhere else but in an interview chair.