Twenty minutes into the shoot, the set is so eerily calm you’d think someone slipped herbal tea into the crew’s morning coffee. Eight takes in, nobody’s on the edge, and the room is still, somehow, effortlessly chill. Floating in the middle of this peace bubble is Abhay Verma—stretched out on a worn-out maroon leather couch in a plain white tee and patchworked jeans, looking directly into the lens with a relaxed, unbothered gaze. Between takes, he wanders over, sticks out a hand, and offers a warm, "Oh, I didn't get your name." I introduce myself. "I'm Abhay," he responds—as if there’s a single soul on set who doesn't already know.
It’s a surprisingly unassuming introduction for someone who is suddenly everywhere—on screen, across feeds, and crowned as the new national crush. His film Munjya (2024), which surprised everyone with a hundred-crore run, didn't just give him a breakout hit; it put him in the center of the frame. Now, stepping into the high-octane cockpit as Flying Officer Dhali in Netflix’s patriotic war series Operation Safed Sagar, and preparing to share screen space with Shah Rukh Khan in King (2026), he’s rapidly being marked as one of the industry's brightest new sensations. Yet, even as the scale of his world expands exponentially, he carries the moment with a quiet, unbothered humility. "I just feel very beautifully overwhelmed by whatever love that has come my way," he says.
His zen-like aura on set isn’t accidental. It comes from oddly specific little rituals that help keep the chaos at bay. Sensitive to the energy around him, he likes his space clean and uncluttered. “Whenever I’m at a restaurant, I like my bottles placed side by side and not anywhere on the table,” he says. The same attention to order extends to his shooting scripts. “Every page needs to be put like it’s the Gita for me,” Abhay says.
Even his mornings run on a strict anti-chaos protocol. Loud alarms are banned, so his phone simply vibrates across the room like a tiny, buzzing landmine. "I don't like to get woken up with a sharp sound," he explains. He sleeps light, trusts his internal compass, and flips instantly from off to fully switched on.
Yet for a guy who needs his world organised down to the millimeter, the moment the cameras stop, all that discipline dissolves into pure digital brainrot. What’s currently hijacking his headspace, you’d think? Cute puppy videos. “It’s been a year and a half that I was continuously working from one set to the other, King to Laikey Laikaa to Jacob Cardoso (JC) to Operation Safed Sagar,” he recounts. “And now that I feel free, I just feel like doomscrolling. I will go on watching puppy reels on and on until the food is served.” He’s always had a soft spot for dogs. His own is named Joey, although he’s quick to clarify that the name has nothing to do with the Friends character.
Ask him how he transitioned from a quiet life to this whirlwind, and he skips the usual rehearsed "I grinded 24/7" narrative entirely and goes full cosmic. "I am quite a spiritual soul," he says. "Every now and then, I have been made to believe that there is a superpower that exists; something which is governing my life." He rewinds to age 19—standing on a Panipat rooftop, A.R. Rahman's Tu Koi Aur Hai blasting in his ears, watching everyone his age pair off while he contemplated his future.
Recalling Irshad Kamil’s lyrics—khol de wo gile jo lagaye tujh pe tu, bol de tu koi aur hai—he notes how the song challenged the pretentious being we sometimes become to please others. Back then, the dream was to fly fighter jets, and eventually, acting ended up handing him the key to the cockpit after all—landing him inside a real MiG-21 for his role in Operation Safed Sagar. "I think we are among the last civilians to ever sit in a MiG-21, and that will forever be the highlight of my life," he says.
Abhay has also come back to where he started, and he seems genuinely moved by the loop. His first real credit was as a junior artiste on Super 30, and now he’s leading Laikey Laikaa—another Phantom Studios production. “It feels too good to be true still,” he says. "It is unbelievable for a guy from Panipat to come and just get loved for doing what he's trying to do.”
Not every project was a joyride—that terrace boy dreaming of big things eventually had to face the heavier weight of real art too. Stepping into the shoes of a transgender character named Chandi for the film Safed (2023) left deep, lasting marks. "It haunted me to death," he says candidly. "I started the film, but after two minutes I stopped it." It's not self-criticism keeping him from still watching the whole film, but the hardships faced by the transgender community that the story exposed.
Being crowned the industry's "next big thing" comes with its own weight attached. Abhay calls the love "beautifully overwhelming," as every win just raises the bar higher. "You are setting kind of a benchmark for yourself, and you only have to surpass it," he says. For all his ease with the unknown, there is one thing he fears losing. "If you ask me what is the one thing that you are more scared of than death, it would be to lose the love that I get from the people, for the work that I do."
And yet, sitting right next to that anxiety is the plain joy of dressing up for a cover shoot. "I think I feel being discovered today because this is a hotter side of me," he blushes. "I didn't think I would be seen in this light this soon. It's all about exploration."
Ask him what he'd want a stranger to notice first, given that they meet him without knowing he's an actor, and it's not the face he thinks of first. "I think my dressing sense," he says. Not the jawline. The fit.
Navigating all of that pressure has forced him to draw strict boundaries, starting with who he lets into his inner circle. If you want to get blacklisted by Abhay, the recipe is simple: lie to him about something small. "Dishonesty in day-to-day life really puts me off. I don't connect at all if I notice someone being dishonest or lying for no reason whatsoever." That filter comes from active self-reflection—he admits he used to surround himself only with people who agreed with him.
"We like people because they listen to us and work according to what we say," he says, catching himself mid-thought. "I've really outgrown that idea of why to subconsciously govern a person, and just let that be." And can he handle a hard no these days? "Absolutely. I love it." The one thing he'll never negotiate on, no matter how busy the year gets, is family—"100 per cent," he says, instantly.
When the emotional tax of the industry gets too heavy, he pulls his go-to vanishing act. He jumps in his car late at night—no destination, no phone. Just him, taking the highway and driving all the way to Marine Drive through the coastal road. "That is my go-to thing," he says. An hour off the grid, unmonitored, and entirely his own.
As the shoot wraps up and he steps out into the Mumbai evening, you get the sense that the dizzying speed of his breakout year hasn't shaken his core one bit. He’s still the same Panipat boy who trusts his inner voice over industry hype, choosing genuine connection over performative polish every single time. Stardom might be knocking on his door at full volume, but Abhay Verma is content tuning into his own steady, quiet frequency. The spotlight has officially caught up with him—now he's just enjoying the ride.
Photographer: Manasi Sawant |Stylist: Rahul Vijay |Fashion Assistants: Simran Bhatia and Trushieta Naringrekar |Hair Stylist: Tarun Gohel|Make-up: Jemima Carasto |Bookings Editor: Varun Shah|Production House: P Productions