With the success of her show, Quantico on ABC, Priyanka Chopra is beginning to make her way toward being a household name around the globe as much as she is already in India.
“I’m proud of being Indian, but I don’t think I need to be labeled based on where I am from. It’s divisive in many ways, and we’re already so divided. By saying ‘Bollywood’—first of all, we’re not an offshoot of Hollywood, we’re the Indian film industry that produces a tremendous array of films every year—it’s using a word that encapsulates a stereotype of what we are.”
“And we don’t really do that with any other countries. We don’t say, ‘Spanish celebrity Penelope Cruz’ or ‘Italian star Sophia Loren.’ So why make it a defining point for me? I’m trying to be global and trying to push us, as a society, to becoming colorblind,” shares the 33-year-old actress in an interview with Esquire.
“I got the role in Quantico based on my merit, not on my ethnicity. The part wasn’t written for an Indian girl, it was just written for an ass-kicking mess of a girl, and I happen to portray her best.”
One of the few movie actresses to transition to television, she states she feels the best content right now is on television: “When was the last time you saw a hijab-wearing, unapologetic, flirtatious female FBI agent in a film? Movies are now so much about the entertainment. They’re all big blockbusters. And I love them, don’t get me wrong, but the writing has all gone to television.”
As a former Miss World, Priyanka is undeniably blessed with good looks; men love her and women want to be her. But if she had to pick a girl-crush, who would be choose?
“Irini Shayk, hands down,” she says.
However, it hasn’t been all smooth sailing for her. In 2013, Priyanka lost her father to a long battle with cancer.
“When I was little, my dad used to call me ‘Bandarella’, because I was a mess—a Bandar is a monkey in Hindi. I was not a girly-girl and would always break something and would be running around and didn’t really fit in. And he would tell me, ‘Don’t worry about fitting into a glass slipper; shatter the glass ceiling.’
Before he died, I asked him to write ‘Daddy’s Little Girl’ on a piece of paper for me. I told him it was for an album. He practiced and practiced and then sent it to me and I had it tattooed onto my wrist and surprised him with it. He cried when he saw it, happy tears. This way, I always carry him with me.”
