“I wish to paint Ranbir, Deepika…Ranveer next”, says muralist Ranjit Dahiya on Bollywood Walls

From the bylanes of Bandra to building facades in Paris, muralist Ranjit Dahiya has transformed India’s public spaces into monumental tributes to Hindi cinema. As the founder of the Bollywood Art Project (2012), his larger-than-life portraits of icons like Amitabh Bachchan, late Madhubala, and late Irrfan Khan don’t just decorate urban surfaces—they preserve shared memory. Trained in fine art and graphic design, the Haryana-born artist believes public art must speak to both “the millionaire and the beggar.”

In an exclusive conversation with Indulge Express, he opens up about nostalgia, rebellion, and the Bollywood that shaped him—and still drives his brush.

Ranjit Danhiya: From NID to a rebellious start

After graduating from the National Institute of Design (NID), Ahmedabad, Ranjit moved to Mumbai and took up a well-paying design job in 2009. But it didn’t last. “Even though it was supposed to make me happy, I was dying inside,” he laughs. “Those cubicles were killing me. I even asked HR to fire me!”

Having grown up on a diet of classic Hindi cinema, he had expected Mumbai to reflect that grandeur. “I thought the city would look like what I’d seen in Mughal-e-Azam, Waheeda Rahman songs, Helen’s dances, Bachchan’s scenes. But there was nothing,” he says. “It was disappointing to not see that cinematic character in the city’s visual culture.”

Living in Bandra, he noticed unused stretches of plaster and peeling paint. “I saw these worn-out spaces and thought—why not turn them into canvases for Bollywood? Because Bombay means Bollywood, right?” says Ranjit.

His first mural—Anarkali—was painted in a shaded corner of Bandra’s Waroda Road. With her eyes half-closed in longing, Madhubala gazes down from a textured wall surrounded by wires and soft decay. The mural drew quiet admiration—and changed his life. Fellow artist Dhanya Pilo of The Wall Project soon invited him to Paris to paint the poster of Bachchan from the film Sarkar Raj in 2009. “That was my first big break. But it all started with Anarkali,” recalled the artist.

Cinema, Painted Tall

Over the years, Dahiya’s portraits have claimed forgotten surfaces across the city—the 230-ft Amitabh Bachchan from Deewar near Mount Mary, the majestic Dadasaheb Phalke near Bandra Reclamation, and murals of Dev Anand, Smita Patil, Raj Kapoor, Rishi Kapoor, Rajesh Khanna, Salim–Javed, and Nawazuddin Siddiqui as Manjhi.

Recent additions include tributes to Lata Mangeshkar, Sachin Tendulkar, and the Professor from Money Heist. He is currently working on a striking mural installation at the Mumbai airport—bringing his signature blend of nostalgia and scale into the heart of the city’s transit hub. Still, not all interactions are smooth. “Some people think we’re defacing property,” he says. “Even with permissions, residents panic. Once, in Bandra, old ladies chased us with sticks! (laugh)”

The Modern Muse List

While most of his work celebrates the golden age, his wish list for future muses includes younger stars. “I’d love to paint Kareena as Geet, Ranbir from Barfi or Rockstar, Deepika as Shantipriya, and Ranveer as Bajirao or Khilji. Uff! They’re so visual.”

And outside cinema? “Yes, I’d like to paint Atal Bihari Vajpayee and Lal Bahadur Shastri,” he says. “That reflects my political view, but it’s shaped by what I’ve witnessed—like the 1984 Sikh riots, the Gujarat riots when I lived in Ahmedabad. Experiences like those form your lens.”

A Wall with a Heartbeat

In an era of scrolling screens, Dahiya believes in the power of stillness. While working on Anarkali, he noticed a burkha-clad woman returning daily. “One day she told me Anarkali was the first film she saw with her husband after their wedding. That mural brought all those memories back,” he smiles. “That’s when I understood what murals can do—they make people pause. Sometimes, they help you look back.”

In Dahiya’s Mumbai, memory isn’t lost to time—it’s immortalised in colour, towering over traffic, waiting for you to look up.

(By Arundhuti Banerjee)