Susan Raj, known as “KPAC Susan,” is a talented actress who performed in around 4,000 plays, both in professional and amateur theater. In her early years, she shared the stage with legendary actors like Jagathy Sreekumar, Unnikrishnan, and Poojappura Ravi. However, life has taken an unexpected turn for the veteran artist, who now sustains herself by selling lottery tickets on the streets.
Despite her dedication to theater, Susan’s life journey led her to KPAC only after she had acted in over 1,000 plays. Today, she sits under the scorching sun at Thampanoor Aristo in Thiruvananthapuram, selling lottery tickets to make a living. Her circumstances were recently brought to light by director Prasad Nooranad, who shared her story on social media.
Reflecting on her journey, Susan said, “In my acting days, I would arrive at Keerthi Hotel in a car for a midday meal. Later, life changed, and I had to scavenge for leftovers there. Now, I sell lottery tickets nearby. I don’t feel bitter—life can be like this. I have challenges, health issues, but I have to keep going.”
When people ask what she gained from 40 years in theater, Susan’s answer is bittersweet. She says, “I left theater 19 years ago. I’ve had a heart surgery and suffer from recurring water retention in my legs, making it hard to walk. I need around ₹10,000 a month for medicines. In the mornings, I leave my small house and take my seat to sell tickets. Some people know me—they buy tickets not to try their luck but to support me.”
Susan began her acting career at age eight, earning ₹35 for her first role, when a sovereign of gold cost ₹100. After four decades of performing, she left the stage with just ₹7,000 in savings. Yet she never felt regret. She supported her mother, raised three children, and cherished the stage as her life’s treasure. “All I have are memories of the stage,” she says. “But can they be measured in value?”
Today, at age 64, Susan acknowledges her initial struggle to accept selling lottery tickets by the roadside. “I cried alone for a week, feeling deep sorrow. This wasn’t the life I had envisioned,” she admits. “But crying didn’t change anything. Gradually, I embraced it as strength. It’s just a job, after all, and I must do it to survive.”
Once a radiant star on stage, Susan now humbly works from a modest stall, her only light the relentless midday sun. In the face of life’s hardships, she embodies resilience, even as she remembers the crowds, the applause, and the roles she brought to life on the theater stage.
