Indian comedian Sumukhi Suresh on cancel culture, Ishaan Khatter’s abs, and why dying alone is super cool ahead of Dubai show

Yes, of course the fear is there. Offence is so unpredictable—you never know what might set someone off. That’s why I try to be mindful. My current show is largely personal; the jokes are mostly on me, so people thankfully forget to take offence. No one can say, “How dare she say that about us?” It’s more like, “Why is she saying that about herself?” Then they just end up feeling bad for me!

But I’ll be honest—I want to last in this industry. I want to leave a legacy. And if that means I have to be strategic, I will be. I’m saying all this now, but one day I could say something and boom, that’s it. So I try to stay aware, but you can’t really plan for it.

Totally! But it works. My therapist once came to my show, and I didn’t even know. The next time I saw her, she just looked at me and said, “Now I understand you.” A lot of therapists actually attend my shows. They come up to me afterward and say, “Are you okay?” And I’m like, “Yes, thank you for coming... but also, are you okay?” More than self-deprecation, it’s my way of making stories relatable. If I say, “This happened to me,” the audience is more likely to see themselves in it. It's a longer route, like going through a scenic detour instead of a direct road, but it lands harder. I’ll say, “It’s not you, it’s me,” and someone in the crowd will go, “Wait… no, it is me.” That’s the goal.

It’s about failing to be a grown-up in your 30s, struggling with hormonal imbalance, and making peace with the fact that my career choices might leave me dying alone—and making that cool. Honestly, I want “dying alone” to stop being a horror story and start being a vibe. Cat ladies, unite!

Very true. A lot of women come who are either single, recently divorced, or just tired of dating apps. We’re that generation stuck between being raised conservatively and wanting to rebel. Boomers were sure of their values. Gen Z is super clear. Millennials? We’re like, “Wait, what’s our truth?” We're constantly caught between “I want to work” and “I want my mom to approve,” while also convincing ourselves that our life choices are valid. But men love the show too! They come thinking it's something their girlfriend or sister dragged them to, and by the end, they’re laughing at my PCOD jokes. If men can start relating to PCOD, I am definitely doing something right.

Not at all! I’m the Harsha Bhogle of dating. Other people date. I commentate. I talk about relationships, but no one asks me out! I'm always on the sidelines, watching people fall in love and thinking, “What about me?” It’s become a part of my act now—it's too real.

You mean Ishaan Khatter's abs? Yeah, I breathed the same air as them. I should have bottled it and sold it. But honestly, you know who I really fan-girled over? Zeenat Aman. That woman just iconic. And I even got to dance with Dino Morea! It was like a 90s fever dream. As for the abs—Ishaan’s are fab, but we’ve become friends now. I’ve seen the kind of work he puts into them, and now I can’t objectify them anymore. He’s not a six-pack; he’s a person! Same with Bhumi. The respect is real. These folks work hard. Ishaan did not even have water so his abs could be shine and be seen.

Three years ago, I made peace with the fact that I don’t have a high metabolism. I used to weigh 122 kilos. Now I’m 87 kilos —not because I hated myself, but because I gave my body permission to go at its own pace. I love working out. I eat clean when I can. And because I know I’m doing my best, I don’t feel bad standing next to someone with chiselled abs. I’m proud of the work I put in.

There was a woman in Chennai who came wearing a beautiful blue Kanjeevaram saree. She told me it was her husband’s death anniversary and she hadn’t stepped out in a year. Her kids dragged her to my show, and she said, “I wanted to dress nicely today because my husband would have wanted that. And I came for your show.” She said it helped her feel better about being alone. I was like, what just happened?! These are the moments that keep me going.

Honestly, I don't know. Season 2 might be it. But Pushpavalli proved I could lead a show. We made it thinking maybe 50 people would watch, and it became so popular. It also flipped the stalker trope—why can’t women be creepy too? Equal opportunity toxicity! That show came out when people still trusted comedians to lead stories. I hope that trust returns. Look at what Brooklyn Nine-Nine or The Bear did. I hope we get that space again.

If I hadn’t done Pushpavalli, I’d be scared of that. But I’ve done it. I carried a show on my shoulders. I’ve proven it to myself, and now I just need the opportunities to do it again.

A mom once told me, “I wish this show existed 10 years ago—it would have changed how I saw myself.” That blew my mind. That’s the power of comedy, right? You think you’re just making people laugh—and then they drop something like that on you. It stays with you.

“Looking for a soulmate. Bonus if you can produce my next show. Must love jokes and fund ideas. Will make 1000 shows a day if you’re rich enough.” Done.