In the glimmer of candlelight, as music lingers between verses and silence is as meaningful as the words themselves, poet and storyteller Ruchika Lohiya has created an experience that audiences across the country have embraced with remarkable warmth. With sold-out performances travelling from city to city, her Candlelight Poetry & Music Show has become much more than a poetry recital, it is an evening of shared emotions, reflection and connection. As the show arrives in Hyderabad at Studio XO x Stone Waters on August 9, Ruchika speaks about the city’s audience, the resurgence of live storytelling and why she believes people will always crave spaces where they can simply feel.
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What makes Hyderabad special?
I’ve always shared a special connection with Hyderabad. People here genuinely appreciate art, they don’t just attend a show, they experience it. Whether it’s poetry, music or storytelling, there’s a curiosity and openness that makes audiences incredibly receptive. I’ve also always admired the city’s warmth and culture, which naturally complements the atmosphere of the Candlelight Poetry & Music Show. Every city has its own personality. Hyderabad’s audience is calm, graceful and deeply engaged. Unlike Delhi, where people are more outwardly expressive, Hyderabad tends to absorb emotions quietly. I actually enjoy encouraging them to let go a little more — to laugh louder, cheer freely and fully surrender to the moment. I hope they leave having laughed wholeheartedly, cried honestly and experienced every emotion in between.
How much does the stage influence your writing process?
The stage comes much later. I write simply because I have something to express, without thinking about audiences or performances. Most poems first find life on smaller stages or social media before eventually becoming part of a live show. Unlike comedians, who know a joke has worked when people laugh, my validation comes differently. When I see people crying, I know we’ve connected emotionally. Those tears tell me the audience is truly present, and that’s the greatest validation I can receive.
How did the candlelight setting become synonymous with your performance?
The idea came after I attended a candlelight concert in London. I remember thinking that if I ever had the opportunity, I’d love to bring that atmosphere into poetry. We were among the first to combine candlelight with spoken poetry, and it created something incredibly special. Candles naturally slow everything down. The softer light makes people quieter and more present, allowing the words to breathe differently. Fire has always symbolised warmth, hope and emotion, and I feel a candle adds another emotional layer to every poem.
Are your poems autobiographical?
People have spent years assuming I’m heartbroken because of what I write. The truth is that my poetry and my personal life are often very different. I only write after I’ve fully processed an emotion, so by the time a poem reaches people, it no longer reflects what I’m currently living. I’ve stopped explaining my personal life because I enjoy people finding their own meaning in my work.
Your performances often feel like conversations rather than recitals. Is that intentional?
Honestly, no. Writing itself feels magical. Sometimes I don’t know where certain words come from, it feels as though emotions simply pass through me. As audiences connect with the poems, I find myself connecting with them too. Every performance becomes something we create together. Those conversations continue after the show. People often share deeply personal stories with me, and many of those eventually inspire new poems. I also regularly ask my audience on social media to suggest emotions or situations they’d like me to write about.
How do you balance authenticity with social media algorithms?
I don't think writing for an algorithm automatically makes something less authentic. Of course I want my poetry to reach millions, and if understanding social media helps me do that, I'm happy to adapt. But interestingly, many of the poems I wrote without thinking about algorithms performed the best. Authenticity always comes first.
Many people turn to your poetry during difficult times. Does that responsibility ever feel overwhelming?
Not at all. It's a privilege. Knowing someone chooses my poetry during one of the hardest moments of their life fills me with gratitude rather than pressure. Being able to offer comfort, hope or strength is one of the greatest gifts an artist can receive.
At a time when attention spans are shrinking, why do you think live poetry is flourishing?
We've seen a huge shift over the last few years. Earlier, people gathered in movie theatres; today we're spending more time on OTT platforms and our phones. That has made live experiences even more meaningful because people want a break from constant scrolling. They want to disconnect, be present and experience something collectively. Technology will continue evolving, but our emotional needs won't. The desire to sit together, listen, laugh, cry and experience stories in real time will always remain deeply human.
How do you strike the balance of music with your poetry?
Every emotion finds its own language. Sometimes words are enough, sometimes a melody expresses what words cannot, and sometimes silence says everything. Rather than forcing a balance, I let the emotion decide whether it becomes poetry, music or simply a quiet pause.
What does your writing process look like?
It’s surprisingly simple. I usually spend one to three hours writing, and once a poem is complete, it’s complete. I rarely edit because I believe the first draft carries the purest emotion.
What’s next for you?
Life feels wonderfully unpredictable. I’m currently touring across India, and we’ve grown from intimate studio venues to large auditoriums, which has been incredibly fulfilling. I’ve always dreamed big. I often say I’m aiming for the stars because I want to become one. Hopefully, the next time I return to Hyderabad, we’ll be celebrating an even bigger milestone together.