From Rejected Actor to Revolutionary Leader
Zarine Manchanda laughs when she talks about her early days in Mumbai. “I came here thinking I’d see my face on movie posters,” she says, shaking her head. “Instead, I ended up organizing donation drives in slums. Not exactly the glamorous story I’d imagined.”
But maybe that’s the point. Sometimes the best stories are the ones we never planned.
Growing Up Where Mountains Meet Meaning
Dharamshala shaped Zarine in ways she didn’t understand until much later. Her father was a minister, her mother ran a business, and the Dalai Lama lived down the road. Not your typical childhood.
“I grew up thinking big dreams were normal,” she says. “My parents taught me to lead, to work hard. But living near His Holiness—that taught me something else entirely. That ambition without compassion is just noise.”
The mountains were there too, of course. Always reminding her to look up, dream bigger. But also to stay rooted. It’s a balance she still carries.
The Brutal Education of “No”
Mumbai didn’t welcome Zarine with open arms. Bollywood has a way of chewing up dreamers and spitting them out, and she got the full treatment. Audition after audition. Rejection after rejection.
“I felt invisible,” she admits. “Like I was shouting into a void.”
Most people would’ve packed their bags. Zarine stayed. Not because she was stubborn—though she probably is—but because something was shifting inside her. Each “no” was stripping away what she thought she wanted, making space for what she was actually meant to do.
“I didn’t see it then,” she says. “But those rejections? They were building me. Teaching me patience, resilience, how to take a hit and keep standing.”
The Breaking Point That Wasn’t
2019 hit different. Zarine was broke, burnt out, and questioning everything. “I was done,” she says flatly. “Emotionally empty. Spiritually lost. The whole thing.”
That’s when the question came: What if I took all this energy—this desperate, clawing ambition—and pointed it somewhere that actually mattered?
The Zarine Manchanda Foundation started small. Food drives in Aarey Colony. Clothes for families who needed them. Nothing fancy. Just showing up.
Then 2020 happened, and the world shut down.
Zarine didn’t. Over 500 donation drives in two years while everyone else stayed home. Was she scared? Of course. But fear felt less important than feeding people.
“It wasn’t courage,” she insists. “It was just clarity. When everything falls apart, you either hide or you help. I couldn’t hide anymore.”
Business, But Make It Mean Something
Here’s where Zarine gets interesting. She didn’t just become a philanthropist and call it a day. She started businesses—lots of them. But none of them feel like typical startups.
There’s the Zarine Manchanda Café, where Tibetan hospitality meets mindfulness. Heavenly Flavours, a cloud kitchen she calls “7-star” because luxury shouldn’t mean heartless. Premium Security Services, which raised eyebrows because apparently women aren’t supposed to run security companies. (Spoiler: she proved them wrong.) And Flavours of Himachal Pradesh, her love letter to home in restaurant form.
“Why should business and compassion be separate?” she asks. “That never made sense to me. You can make money and make a difference. It’s not either-or.”
Awards Are Nice, Impact Is Better
The accolades came. Nelson Mandela Peace Award. Times of India Young Entrepreneur. Features in Femina, India Today. People started noticing.
Zarine shrugs. “Awards are nice. I’m not going to pretend they don’t feel good. But they’re not the point. The point is—did someone eat today because of what we did? Did a family stay together? That’s what matters.”
Her role as Regional Director for BRICS with the Indian Chamber of Commerce meant more because it gave her reach. “Charity helps people survive. Policy helps them thrive. I wanted to do both.”
From Feeding People to Fixing Systems
Which brings us to 2024, when Zarine did something unexpected: she launched a political party. The Zarine Manchanda People’s Party.
“I’d spent years on the ground,” she explains. “Seeing the same problems over and over. Hunger. Homelessness. Broken systems creating broken lives. At some point, you realize—you can’t just feed people and send them back into the same broken system. You have to fix the system.”
Politics, for Zarine, isn’t about power. It’s about access. “I’m not coming from some ivory tower,” she says. “I’ve sat with families who didn’t know where their next meal was coming from. That’s what shapes my policies. That lived experience.”
What She’d Tell Her Younger Self (And Anyone Listening)
“Life won’t follow your plan,” Zarine says. “In fact, it probably won’t even come close. But sometimes—and I know this sounds like a greeting card—sometimes the detours are the whole point.”
She believes success without service is hollow. That ambition untethered from empathy is just ego. That rejection isn’t failure—it’s redirection.
“When Bollywood rejected me, I thought my life was over,” she says. “Now I see it was just beginning. They didn’t want me for their story. Because I was meant to write my own.”
What Drives Her Now
These days, Zarine moves between worlds. Philanthropist. Entrepreneur. Political leader. She doesn’t see them as separate roles.
“It’s all the same question,” she says. “How can I create change? Whether I’m feeding families in Aarey or drafting policy proposals, it’s the same mission. Just different tools.”
She pauses, smiles. “Spotlights fade. Awards sit on shelves. But impact? Impact echoes. That’s what I’m chasing.”
One Last Thing
“Your setbacks aren’t punishments,” Zarine says, softer now. “They’re preparation. Life will break you down—but only to rebuild you stronger. The person you’re becoming? She’s being forged in those fires.”
That’s the real story here. Not a woman who failed at acting. A woman who discovered that true success isn’t about being seen—it’s about seeing others clearly enough to help them rise too.
And honestly? That’s a much better plot twist anyway.
