There are performances that entertain, and then there are performances that seem to breathe alongside you — where words wait, pause, and arrive exactly when they must. At the Hyderabad Literary Festival, amid the steady hum of conversations and cultures crossing paths, anchor and actor Jhansi Laxmi speaks about art the same way she practices it: with restraint, rhythm, and intent. Fresh from a story-reading session on day-1, and a theatrical poetry performance Kavitvam - Oka Teerani Daaham on day-2, she reflected on creation, craft, and the unquenchable thirst that continues to propel her forward.
“It was wonderful to see so many streams coming together — art, culture, language,” she shares.
Asked about the thirst that drives her own performances, she smiles before answering with honesty: “I think it is the kick that I get out of it. Maybe each time I improve my performance — that’s how I am unsearchable that way,” she says, laughing softly at her choice of words. Then, more firmly, she adds, “I think it’s perfection. I am driving towards perfection.”
Poetry, she believes, carries an inherent intimacy. Audiences connect to it instinctively, almost effortlessly. Achieving that balance between the personal and the performative, however, is a conscious process for her. “I write very little poetry. I write theatre plays. Most of my writing is abstract, yet very contemporary,” she admits.
When it comes to poetry, she is selective. “I don’t write poetry,” she clarifies, adding, “There are a few poems that I do write, but mostly I have chosen poetry — popular poetry, from centuries-old poets to contemporary ones. I’ve woven these poems into a story, asking for a distinct utopia.”
That imagined world, she points out, is central to Kavitvam - Oka Teerani Daaham.
Language plays a crucial role in shaping that world. Writing and performing in Telugu, Jhansi says, gives her a freedom she doesn’t experience elsewhere. “Telugu, first, because it is my mother tongue. That’s my best expression. I won’t deny that people may find ease in writing in other languages, but for me, my mother tongue gives me enough room to play — with cultural roots, language, literature, everything. I feel more secure in my mother tongue,” she notes.
One of the most striking aspects of Jhansi’s work is her use of silence — pauses that feel deliberate, weighted, and alive. She speaks about them with quiet reverence. “Silence speaks volumes. Brevity, as Shakespeare said, is the soul of wit. With this performance, the pause is so beautiful, it tells you a history,” she highlights.
When the conversation turns to acting and the roles she wants to explore next, her answer is thoughtful and grounded: “I think I’ve enjoyed comedy enough. Comedy roles, sentimental roles, mother-loving, homely roles — I’ve tried them, and they’ve challenged me.” Now, she wants to return to something more elemental. She continues, “I want to get back to the rural scape — the normal, very authentic characters. Not good, bad, or ugly, just natural, real-life characters. Those are missing on screen, and that would be a challenge for any actor.”
Her journey into theatre was anything but linear. “I started very late. I was an actor and anchor by profession,” she candidly expresses. Writing came next — columns and other forms — before theatre entered her life in a serious way. She further enunciates, “In 2012, I started writing for theatre. In 2019, I did my first direction. And now, I’m directing, writing, and producing as well.”
Having worked across different roles, she is clear about what excites her most at this point: “Direction, currently,” she points out without hesitation. She goes on, “The execution part is challenging, and I’m enjoying it. Bringing the project together, I love it.” Acting, she adds, still holds its own thrill. She goes on, “I love acting on theatre, on stage, on screen. But direction for theatre gives me a different kick.”
As for what’s next, she smiles and gestures toward the festival itself. And, beyond that, she hints at plans for World Theatre Day on March 27.