You once said Malayali audiences are very knowledgeable about cinema. Does that benefit artists and filmmakers?

Absolutely. That awareness keeps us alert, it’s a healthy kind of fear. Our viewers can forgive technical flaws but never dishonesty in writing or performance. They’ll call it out, and that honesty is precious.

Some say you continue to be successful only because of filmmaker Aashiq Abu…

(Laughs) I don’t need to. My journey speaks for itself. I arrived in Thiruvananthapuram with one suitcase, then to Kochi for Miss Kerala with the same one. I auditioned, worked, and built everything on my own. I met Aashiq in 2014, but I’ve been in films since 2008. I never had a manager… I handled everything myself. When M T Vasudevan Nair offered me ‘Sharathe Ammini’ (character in ‘Neelathamara’), my father told me to do it for free (laughs). That’s the kind of start I had.

You were trolled for your “fish fry” comment, though everyone knew you were speaking about the system. Have people’s mindsets changed, especially online?

Many girls told me, “Thank you for the fish fry statement. Now we use it at home too!” (laughs). It gave them a language to express something. That’s enough for me. You can’t change the world, but you can communicate. I just used the space I have to speak my mind. Trolls don’t matter. I said what I wanted to say.

A role you aspire to do?

I want to do mad, physical comedy. I saw Shobhana chechi’s performance recently… her comic timing was brilliant! We haven’t seen women get such space in cinema, except maybe Urvashi chechi. I’d love to do full-fledged comedy.

How do you choose your films?

I go by instinct. If something instantly excites me, I do it. I can’t approach cinema with pros and cons; it has to spark something inside.

Most of your characters have been strong women. Do you feel typecast?

Yes, that’s the sad part. Even when I try something light, people can’t see me that way. Those who meet me in person find me very different. Some even tremble while doing my makeup! (laughs) Strength and opinion are often mistaken for intimidation. That’s how the world sees women.

You also said you’d like to play a romantic role…

Yes, I’m a very romantic person… but I can’t say that openly (laughs)! I have many sides, but people love putting you in boxes — like calling you an activist.

Does the activist label feel like a burden?

Not at all. I’m proud of what I stood for, though it cost me a lot emotionally. I’ve felt lonely and struggled, but I don’t regret it. If wanting change and believing things can get better make me an activist, then yes, I am one.