Rani Mukerji… She needs no introduction! Today, as she completed 30 long years in the film industry, she penned a long heartfelt note on social media and thanked all and sundry for the wonderful support and love. Well, she made her debut in 1996 with ‘Raja Ki Aayegi Baaraat’ and made us go aww with complete glamorous role in Kabhi Kushi Kabhi Gham. Be it Kuch Kuch Hota Hai, Kabhi Alvida Naa Kehna, Mangal Pandey, Bunty Bubli and many more… In every movie she aced her role and was the best fit to her character.

Let us also check her emotion Instagram post…
Her post reads, “Thirty years… When I say that out loud, it feels unreal but it also tells me that if you do something that you love from the bottom of your heart, time flies and you are left hungry for
more. Thirty years ago, I stepped onto a film set with no grand plan of becoming an actress. It wasn’t a dream I chased – it was something that found me. A young girl, drawn into cinema almost by chance, hesitant at first… and yet, somewhere between instinct and vulnerability, I fell in love with the craft.
Cinema has a strange way of freezing emotions. Somewhere inside me, I am still that nervous girl standing in front of the camera for the first time, hoping I wouldn’t forget my lines, hoping I belonged.
I didn’t come into films with a master plan. I came with curiosity, fear, and a deep love for stories, for the exploration of the human mind through characters.
When I did Raja Ki Aayegi Baaraat, I was barely aware of what a “career” in cinema would look like. I only knew that acting made me feel alive. That film taught me my first big lesson: cinema is not about glamour first – it is about responsibility. Playing a woman fighting for dignity so early in my journey shaped the actor I would become.
The late ’90s were magical for me. I often say that audiences give you your destiny. The films that I did during this time gave me mine. They opened doors, but more importantly, they made me realise how deeply Hindi cinema lives in people’s hearts. I had so much fun on sets, had such amazing learning curves and met so many mentors and well-wishers that I wish I could teleport myself back to this time, cherishing everything once more…
The early 2000s were about finding my voice. Saathiya was not just a film, it was a turning point. I played a flawed, impulsive, emotional woman – and I remember feeling liberated. I didn’t want to be perfect on screen. I wanted to be honest. That desire led me to films like Hum Tum, and showed me that women could be funny, sharp, and vulnerable all at once. Then came Black. That film changed everything I believed about myself as an actor. Working with Sanjay Leela Bhansali and Amitabh Bachchan pushed me to places I didn’t know existed within me. It demanded discipline, surrender, and courage. Even today, Black remains one of the most emotionally intense experiences of my life. It taught me that silence can speak louder than words – and that acting is as much about listening as it is about performing.
I have always been drawn to women who challenge the world around them. Whether it was the spirited small town girl with big dreams in Bunty Aur Babli, the fierce journalist in No One Killed Jessica, or the relentless police officer in Mardaani, I felt a deep connection to characters who refuse to back down, who want to shatter patriarchy and have a lot of grace while doing so.
Mardaani in particular holds a special place in my heart. Shivani Shivaji Roy is not loud heroism – she is quiet strength. Through her, I discovered how powerful it is to tell stories that make people uncomfortable, but also hopeful.
Marriage and motherhood changed me, not by slowing me down, but by sharpening my focus. I became more selective, more protective of my energy, and more aware of the kind of legacy I wanted to build and the films that I want to lend my voice to. Hichki came to me at a time when I understood vulnerability in a deeper way. Playing a teacher with Tourette syndrome reminded me why representation matters – and how empathy can change perspectives.
More recently, Mrs. Chatterjee vs Norway reaffirmed my belief that emotional truth transcends borders. A mother fighting a system larger than herself is a story that needs no language. The response to that film told me something profound: audiences still want sincerity. They still want stories that come from the heart. Playing a mother gave me my first National Award and I’m a believer in signs. Maybe I was born to play this role which is why the universe reserved the feeling of me winning this award for when I became a mother and understood what a woman can do for her offspring. Maybe I’m a more complete actor, a more grounded human to play such a role today. I bowed to the universe and took this award with a lot of humility.
If these 30 years have taught me anything, it is that longevity is not about staying relevant – it is about staying honest. I have made choices that surprised people, sometimes even myself. I have taken breaks, returned on my own terms, and trusted my instincts even when they went against trends.
I owe everything to the people who believed in me – directors who challenged me, co-actors who inspired me, technicians who worked tirelessly behind the scenes, and audiences who grew up with me, questioned me, and stood by me. Cinema is a collaboration, and I have never walked this path alone.
Today, when I look back, I don’t count box-office numbers or awards first. I count
moments – standing under rain for a shot, laughing between takes, crying after a difficult scene, and feeling that quiet satisfaction when a performance truly connects.
Thirty years later, my love for cinema is still the same, perhaps deeper, certainly calmer, and infinitely more grateful. It is incredibly special to mark my 30th year in cinema with Mardaani 3 – a franchise that allows me to salute the spirit of today’s women and also the resilience of the Indian police force, especially the women who serve the nation. To have a threequel from the franchise that I have built release in my 30th year is again a sign for me. Maybe the universe is telling me to keep moving forward, keep doing good work, and keep celebrating people and unsung heroes on screen through my craft.
I believe actors are a vessel of ideas and creativity and I’m truly blessed that I could become an actor.
As long as there are stories to tell and emotions to explore, I will remain a student of this beautiful, demanding art.
Thank you for letting me live so many lives. Today, I’m still feeling like a newcomer, wanting to excel, to work harder, to take on new cinematic challenges and write a totally new chapter of my life starting right now…
To my fans and audiences who have always rooted for me, stood beside me and cheered for this girl who has become a woman, I bow down with respect and love. I would not have been here without you. I would have been no one without you.”