Afreen Firdaus 
From the heartlands of a rustic village in Odisha to the dazzling streets of the Big Apple, Siraj Huda’s life story reads like a script penned by fate itself. An accidental actor, Huda’s journey is a rollercoaster ride of unexpected twists and daring leaps. It’s a tale that echoes with the audacity of dreams and the courage to tread paths less taken. Buckle up, for we’re about to embark on a narrative that defies conventions and celebrates the extraordinary.
In a world where destinies are often etched in conventional lines, Siraj Huda’s story bursts forth as a kaleidoscope of serendipity and unexpected choices. From the quietude of a village in Odisha, India, to the electrifying stages of New York City, Huda’s journey reads like a gripping screenplay, filled with twists that could rival any Hollywood plotline. “I consider myself an accidental actor,” Huda chuckles, his eyes alive with the memories of the path he’s trodden.
Picture this – a young Huda, hands stained with the earth of a Nepalese dairy farm, embarks on a journey that takes him from those humble surroundings to the bustling streets of Dubai. Little did he know that beneath the desert sun, he’d discover the joy of teaching ice skating – a far cry from the bovine companions he once tended to. “I used to ask tourists to tip me in dollars in Bhubaneswar,” Huda reminisces, “as I aspired to go to the USA to pursue an MBA.” His chuckle turns into a full-blown laugh as he remembers the audacity of his dreams.
Fast forward to the dizzying heights of New York City’s corporate world, where Huda found himself embedded in the IT industry’s labyrinthine corridors. A comfortable life, the kind that dreams are often built upon, was his – until the tumultuous waves of the 2008 recession altered the course of his life script. It was here that acting, like a mischievous plot twist, waltzed into his narrative. “I guess life wanted to rewrite my story,” he muses, his smile tinged with a hint of irony.
Siraj Huda, alongside his fellow actors, in the screening event of Mira Nair’s play, ‘Monsoon Wedding’.
And thus, the stage lights beckoned, and Huda stepped into the limelight. Extra roles in films paved the way to a speaking part in “Money Never Sleeps,” an experience that, despite his lines being trimmed, cemented his place in the world of acting. “I joined the SAG AFTRA union while working on that movie,” Huda recounts, pride shimmering in his eyes, “so even though my part got cut, I still received royalties.” It was like a nod from fate itself.
A true embodiment of versatility, Huda has donned the hats of various characters, from cab drivers to doctors, breathing life into each role. “I’ve played a Muslim father on ‘What Would You Do’,” he shares, a glint of mischief in his eyes, “where real people reacted to my acting, completely unaware of the hidden camera setup.” One can’t help but wonder if he’s secretly the orchestrator of his own grand performance.
Yet, it’s not just about the roles he plays, but the journey he imparts to others. Huda’s life coaching for fellow actors goes beyond the stage, delving into the intricacies of handling rejection, nurturing resilience, and keeping the mind disciplined amidst the chaos. “Acting is a mind game,” he asserts, his words echoing with wisdom forged in the crucible of experience.
From the curtain rise to the encore, Huda’s narrative unfolds with the grace of a master storyteller. His passion for storytelling led him to write, produce, and act in his own short films, breaking the conventional barriers with creative techniques like breaking the fourth wall and using voiceovers. His film, “FREAK,” showcased a kaleidoscope of emotions, reflecting his evolution as an artist and his audacious leap into the realm of unconventional narratives.
As we bid adieu, Huda’s parting words resonate like a refrain from his remarkable journey. “Life,” he grins, “is the greatest scriptwriter.” Indeed, for Siraj Huda, life’s script is a masterpiece, written with daring choices, unexpected turns, and a spirit that embraces every role it offers.
