

As Indulge marks 15 years of chronicling Bengaluru’s cultural heartbeat, it felt only fitting that our anniversary cover should feature someone who truly embodies the idea of our theme Past Forward as intuitively as she does consciously. In an industry that often rewards spectacle over substance, Sruthi Hariharan has quietly carved out a space defined by nuance, intelligence and an unwavering commitment to performance. The National Film Award–winning actor has emerged as one of the most compelling voices in contemporary Kannada cinema, with a body of work that seamlessly bridges the worlds of mainstream success and arthouse credibility.
Working primarily across Kannada and Tamil films, Sruthi’s career is marked not by volume, but by carefully chosen roles that place character at their core. She made her screen debut in the Malayalam film Cinema Company (2012), but it was her Kannada breakthrough Lucia (2013) that firmly announced her arrival. Playing dual roles in Pawan Kumar’s genre-defying film — and dubbing for herself for the first time — Sruthi demonstrated an ease with complexity that would soon become her hallmark. The film’s critical acclaim opened doors to a range of projects, from the tenderly observed Godhi Banna Sadharana Mykattu (2016) to the hard-hitting Urvi (2017), establishing her as an actor unafraid of emotional depth or moral ambiguity.
Her performances in Beautiful Manasugalu (2017) earned her the Karnataka State Film Award, while Nathicharami (2018) brought national recognition, winning her a National Film Award – Special Mention for a portrayal widely praised for its restraint and sensitivity. Equally at home in ensemble casts and leading roles, Sruthi has featured in films such as Upendra Matte Baa (2017), Solo (2017) and Head Bush (2022), often choosing projects that challenge conventional narratives. Sruthi Hariharan — actor, dancer, entrepreneur, mother and quiet disruptor — is also marking 15 years in the film industry. It’s a coincidence that feels almost poetic. We sit down with her for an unfiltered, warm and wonderfully candid conversation about journeys, joy, setbacks, saris, motherhood, cinema and finding balance in a world that rarely pauses.
She walks into Dublin, ITC Windsor, our venue for the interview wearing an indigo cotton sari. We predicted this outfit and so there’s a moment of laughter and instantly the interview feels less like an assignment and more like a conversation between old friends — which, in truth, it is. “Did you just record all of that?” she asks, half-joking. “No, no. We just switched the camera on,” we reassure her. “Thank God,” she laughs, settling in. And just like that, we’re rolling. “This is such a special one for us,” we begin. “Our 15th anniversary edition. And we couldn’t think of anyone else,” we tell her. Sruthi smiles, visibly moved. “It means so much. Truly,” she gushes.
The theme of the edition is Past Forward — spotlighting people who honour where they’ve come from but refuse to be boxed in by it. Artistes who have history, yes, but also hunger. Evolution. Curiosity. “And that,” we tell her, “is exactly why you’re perfect.” She nods thoughtfully, “I get that. I think, I’ve always believed that we’re more than one identity. And cinema, while central to my life, isn’t the only thing that defines me.” Which brings us neatly to where she is now — not just as an actor, but as an entrepreneur stepping into the wellness space.
“Postpartum changed everything for me,” she says candidly. “Physically, emotionally, mentally. My relationship with my body was suddenly very different,” she adds. Fitness, once intuitive and fluid thanks to years of dance, became harder. Discipline didn’t come as easily. Control felt elusive. “And like so many women, especially in our mid-30s, I was juggling too much — motherhood, work, expectations, self-image,” she confesses. What emerged from that chaos was Sama — a brand that sits at the intersection of wellness, culture and identity.
“Sama means balance in Sanskrit,” she explains. “Balance between work and family. Between ambition and acceptance. Between tradition and modernity,” she tells us. The idea came from something deceptively simple: activewear didn’t feel like her. “It was functional, sure. But it didn’t reflect who we are culturally. Why can’t modern activewear celebrate Indian art, motifs, stories,” she asks. Sama does exactly that — contemporary silhouettes infused with Indian design sensibilities. But Sruthi is clear: this isn’t just a clothing label. “The larger vision is wellness. Holistic wellness. Especially post-COVID-19, the world is leaning into it — and rightly so,” she declares. The launch is slated for March. 2026 already feels big. “There are films releasing, Sama launching… it feels like a piece of my heart going out into the world,” she enthuses.
Before the awards, the acclaim and the spotlight, there was a nerdy girl sitting on the first bench. “I was that kid,” she laughs. “Good grades, very academic,” she quickly adds in. Raised in a conservative Tamil Brahmin family in Bengaluru, expectations were predictable. Science. Stability. Security. “But I fell in love with the stage very early,” she admits. Dance came first — bharatanatyam, then theatre during her years at Christ University. After graduating in Business Management, she made a decision that shocked everyone around her: she chose dance professionally.
“My mother was horrified,” she laughs and adds, “she said, ‘This is not even a profession!’ And honestly, back then… she wasn’t entirely wrong.” Still, Sruthi persisted. She joined a dance troupe, worked as an assistant choreographer and danced in films as a background performer. “And then one day, standing behind the camera on a film set, something shifted. It was magical,” she reveals. She pauses. “I knew I wanted to be in front of that camera,” she admits. Auditions followed. Indie films. Small budgets. Big dreams. Her first feature break came with the Malayalam film Cinema Company. Then Lucia happened — an audition she famously rode to on a scooter. “Pawan (the director) looked at me and said, ‘Perfect. We can pay her less,’” she laughs. The irony? Lucia would go on to become a cult film, launching not just her career but that of several others associated with it. “That film was lucky for all of us,” she tells us, brimming with nostalgia.
No conversation about Sruthi’s journey is complete without acknowledging her courage during the #MeToo movement. She doesn’t shy away from it. “Yes, it impacted my career,” she says plainly, adding, “it impacted my mental health. My family. My relationship with money. With work.” She pauses, choosing her words carefully. “And it still sticks. There are people who judge. Who doubt. Who dismiss,” she shares. But there’s no regret in her voice. “I wear it with pride. Why should I be embarrassed? The shame was never mine,” she declares. At the same time, life offered her a pause — pregnancy, motherhood, distance. “I went to Kerala. I became a mother. I stepped away,” she reveals. It was both escape and healing. “And now, I am back on my own terms,” she says triumphantly.
If there’s one thing Sruthi refuses to romanticise, it’s motherhood. “The first six months were brutal,” she admits. “Hormones, exhaustion, confusion. No one prepares you for that,” she tells us. “A friend once told me: it doesn’t get easier, you just get used to it,” Sruthi adds. Six years on, she speaks of her daughter with awe — of conversations, curiosity, intelligence. “This generation is something else. Gen Alpha is going to change the world,” she says with conviction. Parenting, she believes, has become more conscious. More intentional. “We talk about safety. About bodies. About consent. About screens. And yes, there’s guilt. Constantly. But I tell her why I work. For money, yes. But also because I love it,” she shares. She hopes that lesson stays. Motherhood has changed how she approaches work. “I do think about how my daughter will perceive my choices.” There are films she’ll wait to show her. Conversations she’s preparing herself for. “But I won’t do anything I’m ashamed of,” she informs us. It’s a quiet but firm boundary.
Sruthi’s style has always felt effortless — rooted, elegant, personal. “It comes from my mother,” she reveals. “She’s always been impeccably dressed,” she adds. Comfort is key. So is appropriateness. “I dress for the occasion. Otherwise, it’s track pants or a sari,” she tells us. Saris, especially. “I can drape one in 30 seconds,” she adds. We may or may not take her up on that challenge someday. Fitness, meanwhile, remains her anchor — not for aesthetics, but sanity. “That one hour is mine,” the actress informs us.
There are films in Kannada ready for release. A Tamil web series she’s excited about. A female director she loved working with. “Slow and steady,” she says. Malayalam cinema? She’d love to return — but she’s realistic. “Waiting for opportunities is endless. Access matters,” she says disappointingly. Which brings us to the final evolution: directing. “I don’t want to be a director for the title, I just want to tell a story my way,” Sruthi tells us. At least one film. That’s the promise she makes to herself.
“2026 feels big,” she smiles. “Films. Sama. New beginnings,” she quickly adds in. As we wrap up, there’s warmth — and mutual gratitude. “Indulge inspires me,” she tells us. “And you inspire so many,” we reply. Fifteen years in, Sruthi Hariharan isn’t just moving forward. She’s moving meaningfully. Balancing ambition with authenticity. Past with possibility. And that, truly, is what Past Forward ought to look like.
CREDITS:
Photography: Nithish Ayyod, assisted by Pratham Manjunath
Hair & Make-up: Swaathi Bharani Dharan, Meghana V & Ritula Bidkar
Jewellery: House of Menghraj & Sunrise Silversmiths
Clothing: Tulsi, Nerige Story & Manékin
Location: ITC Windsor, a Luxury Collection Hotel, Bengaluru
Email: romal@newindianexpress.com
X: @elromal