New Delhi: If Aamir is the cerebral star, Salman the hyper-masculine hero, and Shah Rukh the non-toxic metrosexual, then together, the three Khans have redefined what it means to be a man in Bollywood. And they continue to hone these archetypes.
“They transitioned into different styles of filmmaking and storytelling, adapting to changing times while holding on to what made them unique. And now, as they all turn 60, they’ve made the 60s look like the new 40s—energetic, purposeful, and full of relevance,” said filmmaker Kedaar Gaekwad.
On-screen, Shah Rukh Khan sported a pink Marilyn Monroe tie in Yes Boss (1997) and kept a vrat for the love of his life in DDLJ (1995). In 2007, he was flaunting six-pack abs in Dard-e-Disco, and by 2023, had embraced a lean, mean brand of machismo in Pathan and Jawan. Meanwhile, Aamir Khan’s raw determination in Lagaan (2001) took the movie to the Oscars. His passionate pursuit of vengeance as the tattooed hero in Ghajini (2008), his innocence in PK (2014), and his devotion as a father in Dangal (2016) have won him a legion of fans. And rounding this off is Salman Khan, with an over-the-top masculinity that defines his blockbusters, from Tere Naam (2003) to Wanted (2009) to Sikandar (2025).
“They weren’t just characters—they were emotions, first crushes, role models, and in many ways, cultural milestones,” said Gaekwad. For a generation of Indians, the name ‘Raj’ is synonymous with the Aamir Khan starrer, Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak (1988), as ‘Ajay’ is with Shah Rukh in Baazigar (1993).
In their own way, each of the Khans challenged traditional ideas of patriarchy. They were not afraid to break the rules.
“Their era not only transformed Bollywood but also deeply influenced the cultural psyche of India,” said Parul Chawla, founder of PR firm Picture N Kraft. Over the last two decades, Chawla has collaborated with all three Khans. She worked with Salman for Chori Chori Chupke Chupke (2001) and Dabangg (2010), with Aamir for Ghulam (1998), and with Shah Rukh for One 2 Ka 4 (2001).
The three Khans’ influence has not waned with time.
“Remarkably, their reign continues to be relevant not just for the audiences who grew up watching them, but also for Gen Z, who still look up to them as icons, mentors, and role models,” Chawla said.
The non-toxic hero
Shah Rukh Khan straddles ambition with emotion, and his masculinity is tinged with femininity. He doesn’t need to rescue a damsel in distress or beat a hundred men to win the woman’s heart. Humour, respect, and chivalry are the defining characteristics of not just his characters but also his persona outside the reel world.
“SRK redefined the ‘lover boy’ archetype, giving Indian men the permission to be vulnerable, expressive, and emotionally available. His portrayal of a hero with depth and dignity made sensitivity aspirational, not weak,” said Chawla.
If Amitabh Bachchan’s ‘angry young man’ defined the ’70s and ’80s, then Shah Rukh’s suave charm and easy vulnerability emerged as the face of a post-liberalisation India.
It didn’t happen overnight.
Each of Shah Rukh’s films cemented the brand while adding a new facet to his on-screen personality. As Sunil Shah in Kabhi Haan Kabhi Naa (1994), he was the gauche college student who had to watch the girl he loved date his friend. As Raj in DDLJ, he got beaten up but remained true to his love interest. And he was never afraid to cry on screen.
“Kal Ho Naa Ho (2003), Kabhi Alvida Naa Kehna (2006), Devdas (2002), Veer-Zaara (2004)—each film made longing more powerful than possession, because Shah Rukh’s brand of masculinity was rooted in emotion,” Gaekwad said.
In Swades (2004), Khan played Mohan Bhargava, a NASA scientist who returns to rural India. It was a role stripped of glamour, zooming in on the internal struggle between progress and roots.
With time, suaveness emerged as a new dimension of Shah Rukh’s on-screen masculinity. He came to be seen as the metrosexual hero. His physical appearance also reinforced the perception—the lean physique was an antithesis to the buffed–up hero with massive biceps.
“He gave men the permission to love loudly and unapologetically,” Gaekwad added.
His comeback movies—Jawan, Pathan, and Dunki—were high-octane, action-packed thrillers. Now, at 60, Shah Rukh is saving the world in a Tom Cruise-like manner, but the emotional core remains untouched.
Also read: Shah Rukh, Salman, or Aamir – which Khan is ruling his 60s? There is one clear winner
New brand of heroism
Unlike traditional heroes, Aamir Khan flexed his brain on screen—along with his muscles, of course.
Aamir, the perfectionist, brought introspection to the male identity in cinema, said Chawla.
In Dil Chahta Hai (2001), Aamir played Akash—a commitment-phobe who evolves emotionally without losing his charm. It’s a flawed, unsure, cocky character who gets a redemption arc—a far cry from the idealised heroes of Bollywood.
The film redefined urban male friendships, presenting vulnerability without emasculating it. Suddenly, it was okay to talk about emotions, to cry, to not have it all figured out.
“Whether it was Lagaan, Taare Zameen Par (2007), or Dangal, Aamir showed that masculinity could be thoughtful, nurturing, and socially aware. His brand of manhood championed purpose and progress, both on–screen and off it,” Chawla said.
In Taare Zameen Par, Aamir didn’t even play the protagonist. Instead, he became the teacher every child needed and a mentor every man could aspire to be—someone who used empathy, not aggression, to change lives.
He showed men that they don’t have to be tough, and that ‘softness’ doesn’t make one any less of a man.
“He consistently chose stories that made us think,” Gaekwad said. “He redefined what a commercial actor could be. Aamir challenged conventions and dared to walk a different path.”
Then came Rang De Basanti (2006), 3 Idiots (2009), and PK—each featuring a different kind of masculine strength.
In Rang De Basanti, Aamir’s character is willing to sacrifice personal safety for truth and justice. His masculinity in the film is well–balanced with emotional vulnerability. The men in the film cry, mourn, and, more importantly, question their place in society.
As Rancho, Aamir became the voice of a generation of men rebelling against the country’s rigid education system. On the other hand, PK’s strength was rooted in empathy and honesty, allowing him to question deeply held religious and cultural beliefs.
Aamir’s non-violent approach to taking on societal issues reflected a Gandhian ideal of strength through truth.
Intelligence, ideals, and compassion became Aamir’s brand of heroism, not brute force.
Also read: Saiyaara dressed its star kids in flea market clothes and gave them an anti-YRF look
Macho rebel
Of the three Khans, Salman conforms to the traditional Bollywood hero archetype.
He was never the most eloquent actor. He didn’t deliver monologues, and he didn’t champion social causes. What he did—after his Hum Saath – Saath Hain (1999) and Bhaghban (2003) era—was reintroduce the raw, unfiltered alpha male to a generation that was on the edge of emotional evolution.
In Wanted, Salman rebranded himself as a one-man army. Dabangg sealed that image—Chulbul Pandey was everything mainstream Indian masculinity admired: cocky, lawless, and physically dominant.
Salman’s characters broke the rules, did what they wanted, and lived on their own terms. They didn’t seek redemption—their moral code didn’t deem it necessary.
Even the most ardent of Salman’s fans will admit that his cinematic journey was influenced by toxic traits. But it resonated with a massive section of the Indian male audience who couldn’t connect with the polished, urbane characters of Shah Rukh and Aamir.
Beyond his reel life, Salman is known for mentoring and supporting newcomers, including Sonakshi Sinha, Katrina Kaif, Zareen Khan, Athiya Shetty, and Sooraj Pancholi.
“He symbolised strength and charisma, but (off-screen?) he also became a protector, a mentor, and, for many, a father figure. He wasn’t just the ‘macho man’; he was the emotional anchor—firm, loyal, and deeply human,” said Chawla.
Salman revived the classic hero image of the ’80s and ’90s, but he also added spice to it—think hook steps like the Dabangg belt dance or style choices like sunglasses slung over the back collar.
Yet, there was always a soft core underneath that tough exterior. In Bajrangi Bhaijaan (2015), he played a simple man with a big heart who travels all the way to Pakistan to deliver a girl back to her home.
“Despite his larger-than-life image, he has consistently treated both women and men with care and respect, on and off screen,” said Gautam Thakker, CEO of Everymedia Technologies, who has worked with the actor on multiple projects including Ek Tha Tiger (2012), Bajrangi Bhaijaan, and Tubelight (2017).
He added that Salman’s masculinity has evolved from the ‘macho’ brand to a blend of strength with sensitivity.
“He’s no longer just the aggressive hero fighting goons. Instead, his characters now embody greater responsibility and emotional depth,” he said.
The three Khans have coexisted at the box office—and continue to do so—with each offering a different version of what it means to be a man in India.
“Watching their films remains a rite of passage,” Gaekwad said.
This article is part of a series called ‘Khans at 60’.
(Edited by Prasanna Bachchhav)