IMPACT catches up with MTV sensation and the face behind the iconic show MTV Bakra — Cyrus Broacha. In a candid conversation, he reflects on the golden era of television, the evolution of influencer marketing, and what lies ahead for him.
Q] Cyrus, you have seen the MTV era as well as the Instagram reel era. How are things different according to you?
In the past, we’d adjust the TV with a knob, sometimes hitting it, while our mothers would shout at us. Today, your generation swipes through multiple topics in seconds, and attention spans seem to be shrinking. We used to have 30-minute shows with 22-24 minutes of content, but that format might not last much longer. TV is fading, and even OTT content outside of dramas is becoming shorter—mostly quick reels. The future may just be a few seconds of content.
Q] If MTV Bakra was supposed to be made today, what would be the difference according to you?
Back then, we had no idea how reckless we were. We’d wear police uniforms for shoots at Oshiwala and Jogeshwari Junction, and casually eat at restaurants in uniform—technically illegal, but no one questioned us. I was the only non-Marathi officer speaking Hindi, but people still addressed me as 'Sahab,' not wanting to take chances. We shot without permissions, even stopped traffic with a fake rope. Today, with police, municipal authorities, and everyone carrying cameras, it would be impossible. Back then, it was all about jugaad and a bit of influence — that's how we got things done.
Q] You and many brands today taking the podcast route. Do you think that podcasts is the next step for marketing?
Yes, brands are definitely getting more interested as audiences are becoming increasingly niche. It's rare now to have a superstar like Shah Rukh who appeals to everyone. Over the next decade, that's unlikely to change. So brands are targeting specific demographics—car lovers, fashion enthusiasts, animal lovers—through different podcasts. Most aim for the 18-25 age group. Only a few like my podcast have no clear genre—we’re just floating around. Today, everyone's a comedian, and expectations are sky-high. Honestly, there are too many comedians now; maybe the government should impose a two-year ban on comedy!
Q] Your content falls in the humour genre, where do you get your comedic perspective?
When we did 'The Week That Wasn't', it was political and social satire spun from the news—that’s different. In my solo or corporate gigs, I mostly play off the room because I'm too lazy to write stand-up. I prefer writing skits or satire; stand-up feels tedious, line after line going nowhere. I often draw from Mumbai—it drives me crazy like an irritating but beloved parent. The city’s full of paradoxes, and now it’s the VIP capital of India. Especially in South Mumbai, with red-light convoys pushing citizens aside, it feels like we have no place left here.
Q] If all of you 90s VJs come together and create a respire of that era, what would the show be called and what would the show be about?
'Kyu' would be a great title—it's what people naturally ask while watching. We have fun reminiscing, but you can't get trapped in nostalgia. It’s like a cancer—the more you indulge, the worse it gets. I don't want to live in the past. I see it on WhatsApp groups—school, college, building groups—where people endlessly share old photos and birthday wishes. It’s fine occasionally, but for many, it’s their whole life now. While I cherish those memories, I believe we should live in the present and not lose ourselves in what once was.
Q]What are some of the trends in influencer marketing that you're noticing now?
What I like is that brands today are getting smarter about integrations. We've had offers where instead of obvious, outdated plugs, they match the brand with the show's tone—sometimes even poking fun at it, which feels natural. You can't fool an internet audience anymore with old-school advertising styles. I prefer when branding feels organic, either through subtle placements or a simple sponsor tag like 'presented by Kotak Bank,' without forcing it. Marketers today understand they need to respect both the audience and the product. Unlike old TV ads—like my childhood obsession with Nirma—today’s content demands more nuance.
Q] What's next for Cyrus?
We’re working on a new podcast and trying to revive our TV show in some form. I still believe there’s space for political and social satire, but we have to tread carefully—lines of censorship keep shifting, as the Kunal Kamra case shows. Compared to the bold internet generation, we come from a more cautious TV culture. I feel there’s a gap in the market: older, more intellectual audiences are often ignored in today’s youth-focused stand-up scene. I’d like to create content that appeals across age groups, not just 18-25. Hopefully, something concrete will take shape soon.
