Shahana Goswami Is Done Performing Perfection—Onscreen And Off

When Shahana Goswami first read the script of Four Years Later, what struck her wasn’t the arc of its romance or the drama of its conflict. It was the unvarnished humanity of Sridevi, her character. “There was something very real and honest and loving about her, despite the faults and the flaws,” she said in an interview with SheThePeopleTV. “That’s what drew me in.”

At a time when nuanced portrayals of women are still too few and far between, especially in global narratives centred on women of colour, Sridevi stands out. Assertive yet flawed, fiercely loving yet emotionally fragile, she defies binaries. Goswami sees her as a woman in the thick of her becoming. “It’s so refreshing to play someone who doesn’t have it all figured out. Because honestly, who does?”

Written by Indian-Australian writer Mithila Gupta and backed by the team behind Colin From Accounts, the series charts the shifting emotional ground between Sridevi and Yash, a couple navigating a long-distance marriage after years of intimacy. It explores the couple’s struggle as they attempt to reconnect after four years of living apart. But the show isn’t just about love—it’s about how people change, grow, break down, and build themselves again. At its heart, it’s a study of accountability.

Shahana Goswami as Sridevi

For Goswami, what resonates most deeply is the show’s insistence on owning one's choices. “Accountability is a big thing in relationships—whether with others or yourself,” she explains. “We all make mistakes. What matters is whether we’re willing to acknowledge them.”

Sridevi, she says, learns this the hard way—through denial, confrontation, and eventual self-awareness. “There’s a big difference between explanation and justification. Circumstances may explain our actions, but they don’t excuse them.”

That distinction is central to how Four Years Later treats emotional conflict. It isn’t about clean resolutions or perfect partners. “People get defensive; it’s natural. But the growth happens when you go beyond that defensiveness,” Goswami adds. “That’s when relationships evolve.”

One moment in the series, subtle yet seismic, is when Sridevi declares, “Just because I want to start a family doesn’t make me less of an independent woman.” It’s a quiet but powerful rebuttal to the cultural script that demands women be either ambitious professionals or nurturing homemakers, not both.

Goswami relates deeply. “Liberation is not about proving anything to anyone. It’s about having the freedom to choose,” she says. “And if an educated woman chooses to be a homemaker, why is that less valid than being a CEO?”

She reflects on how women are constantly asked to reconcile personal ambition with familial expectation. “Men don’t face that binary the same way,” she notes. “So many women are judged for their choices—whether they lean into career or family, there’s always a side-eye.”

For her, authenticity trumps optics. “You should be able to say, ‘This is what I want right now,’ and that should be enough. That’s what true freedom looks like.”

The Silent Pressure on Men

Four Years Later doesn’t just offer a complex portrayal of its female lead; it also subverts how masculinity is depicted. Yash, Sridevi’s partner, is battling his own quiet breakdown, a product of years of internalised expectations.

“Men are just as much victims of patriarchy,” Goswami says. “They’re taught not to express emotion, to carry the weight of everything without ever saying, ‘I’m not okay.’” She believes this emotional repression becomes a form of collective trauma. “It’s not weakness—it’s human to need help.”

In the show, Yash takes two years to open up to his wife. That delay, Goswami believes, reflects a broader crisis. “Men don’t even talk to other men about their feelings. They go to women—mothers, partners, female friends—but rarely to each other.”

She hopes stories like this can change that. “We need to normalise vulnerability, not pathologise it. And men need to hold space for each other too.”

At the emotional core of Four Years Later is a question that creeps into many long-term relationships, particularly those strained by distance: What if the feelings change? What if the person I love no longer sees me the same way—or worse, no longer sees me at all?

Goswami confesses that this very fear has shaped her own understanding of love. “Even when I was younger and in love, my fear was never that someone would find somebody else. It was: What if you get bored with me?” she says, candidly. “What if the version of me that you’ve built up in your head doesn’t match the reality of who I am?”

It’s the kind of insecurity many feel but few admit. In the show, distance triggers that uncertainty for Sridevi. For Goswami, too, the theme of long-distance love has played out in multiple ways across her life. “I used to believe long-distance doesn’t work for me. But now I see it’s not about geography. It’s about timing, intention, and who you are in that phase of life.”

She shares stories from her own experiences—some where long-distance offered the thrill of longing, others where it slowly eroded intimacy. “I've been in relationships where we lived apart, and we thought, okay, we’ll make it work. And for a while, we did. But once you’ve shared a daily life together, that distance feels more like a void. And that void can swallow the connection if you’re not careful.”

Yet, she’s quick to point out that emotional distance isn’t exclusive to physical distance. “You can be sleeping in the same bed every night and still feel miles apart. You stop talking, you stop noticing the cracks. That slow erosion can be more dangerous because it sneaks up on you.”

The Power of Female Friendship

If romantic love is tested in Four Years Later, it’s female friendship that provides sanctuary. Gabby (played by Kate Box), Sridevi’s friend and eventual anchor, is a revelation—fierce, funny, loyal.

Goswami lights up at the mention of Gabby. “I think friendship is the highest form of love. It’s the most unconditional, least performative relationship you can have.”

She believes romantic relationships should aspire to the ease and generosity of deep friendship. “My friendships are romantic. Not in a sexual way, but in the way I long for my friends, admire them, and feel inspired by them. There’s a sparkle there.”

Gabby, for Sridevi, becomes more than a friend, a safe place. “Sometimes, the wind beneath your wings comes from unexpected people,” Goswami says. “Gabby helps Sridevi find her own ambition, her own voice. That’s what great friends do.”

She believes friendship also keeps romantic relationships grounded. “You can’t expect your partner to be your everything. It’s not fair, and it’s not sustainable. That’s why friendships outside your romantic relationship are essential. They hold you, reflect you, and remind you that you’re not alone.”

Legacy Isn’t the Point

Despite her two-decade-long career and critically acclaimed body of work, Goswami says she doesn’t think about legacy. “I’m not legacy-oriented. I’m experience-oriented,” she smiles.

Her love for cinema is rooted in the collaborative act of creation. “It’s a team sport. Everyone brings their own magic. It’s like a friendship bubble. You learn, you merge ideas, you grow.”

What matters most to her is presence. “I’m focused on milking the moment, on really experiencing the now. If something I do leaves an impact, that’s beautiful. But I don’t chase it.”