Niveditha Prakasam: Queens of Comedy winner on deadpan wit, stand-up struggles, and life on stage
Niveditha Prakasam might seem like the calm, girl-next-door type—until she steps on stage and quietly dismantles everyday life with razor-sharp wit. An automobile engineer-turned-language editor who once ‘fixed words for a living’, she now constructs punchlines with the same precision—only these are far more incisive than a spanner or a pen. Winner of Queens of Comedy (2017), India’s first women-only stand-up talent hunt on TLC, Niveditha is known for her deadpan delivery, clever writing, and jokes that have taken the internet by storm. We catch up with the popular comedian.
What’s been the biggest change in your life since your win in Queens of Comedy?
Well, the fact that I won Queens of Comedy is really what led me to stand-up in the first place. I don’t think I would have seen it as a career otherwise. I still can’t quite believe people actually pay me to do this! But that show made me realise it could be a viable path. Pursuing stand-up as a career has completely changed things; I never would have imagined this was something I could actually do as a job.
You applied for Queens of Comedy just two days before the deadline. Are you usually this chill?
I’d say I don’t do very well when I’m nervous. Because of that, I try not to take on too much stress. I’m generally a bit relaxed, and I think that’s a fair description of me.
You’ve said attention both excites and scares you. What part of fame makes you uncomfortable, and what part secretly thrills you at the same time?
I like it when people enjoy my jokes. Some people get really annoyed when other channels, you know, take your jokes and post them as their own. There are loads of channels online that just grab people’s reels and claim them. But if those reels do well and I check the comments, and nobody knows who I am, I’m okay with that, because I don’t want the attention on me. What I do like is that people enjoy what I’m saying.
But when it comes to fan culture, I find it a bit odd. We’ve grown up with it in Tamil Nadu, and it’s huge. And I’ve always felt there’s something slightly off about it because you don’t really know who the person is, only who they’re projecting themselves to be. I’ve always had an issue with that kind of attention. That said, as long as it translates to money, all attention is good attention.
Chennai’s stand-up scene has grown since your first open mic a decade ago. What do you miss about the early days?
I actually haven’t been to Chennai in eight years, so I only really know what it was like back then. At that time, there were no women in the scene; it was just me and Shyama, who’s also a stand-up now in Tamil Nadu. Most of the time, it would only be one of us on the lineup; there weren’t any other girls. That was the scene then, and from what I can see even now, Shyama still seems to be the only woman regularly performing. So, I think there’s room for improvement in the Chennai comedy scene. I’m not sure how that’s going to happen, but it’s always been difficult for women to break in, and it still is.
As a woman in comedy, you’ve spoken about needing to be unapologetic. What’s one thing you’ve stopped apologising for—on stage or in life?
You know, it’s not easy to be unapologetic as a stand-up comedian. Sometimes the government asks you to apologise, or some people on the internet demand it. So, I’d say I am careful about what I talk about. But no matter how careful you are, you can still get into trouble.
If your intentions weren’t right, then you feel bad about it. But if there were no bad intentions, it’s up to the other person to figure out why they’re so angry. Then, you can be unapologetic. I think it’s also nice to reflect on why people get so angry about things. And yes, my comedy draws heavily from personal observations.
Winning the Queens of Comedy made you one of the comedians to watch out for. What’s the most unrealistic expectation people now have of you?
I think, not just from me but from any comedian, the unrealistic expectation—and I’m not saying they shouldn’t have this expectation—is that we should do well in every show. It doesn’t usually happen, though. When you’re doing live stand-up, a lot of things come into play. Even a live audience, the way they react to your jokes, how your first 15 minutes go—all of that matters. And sometimes, when comedians are doing trial shows, their jokes won’t be 100 per cent. What you see online is the best version of that material.
I guess this is just my way of telling the audience that this is the art of stand-up. I could do a joke in Mumbai that goes really well because the audience there likes it. But if I take it to Chennai, people might not react the same way. So, not all comedians are going to hit 100 per cent all the time.
You often start your sets like you’re chatting with friends. What happens when the audience doesn’t want to be your friend that day?
You mean my jokes bombing, right? This is something you learn on the job. And you never really learn it completely, because there are different intensities to how an audience reacts to your comedy. So, I think it just comes from doing it a lot. The way you handle it is to just accept it. You have to accept that the show didn’t go well. And it hurts, a lot. All comedians, even the biggest ones, if they’ve had a bad show, it hurts. But then, you know, it’s part of the job, and you have to get back on stage again tomorrow. So, you have to forget about it.
Your comedy draws heavily from personal observations. Where do your best jokes come from—awkward moments, anger, joy, or pure boredom?
It’s seasonal. Like, when I first started stand-up, it used to be anger. Mostly anger. Now, post-pandemic, I’d say I like to divide my comedy career into pre-pandemic Niveditha and post-pandemic Niveditha, because, well, I did get older and stuff. Then it just became the job. I like to talk about things that nobody else talks about, and I try to stay true to who I am. But now, it’s more about the skill than my feelings. I’ve learnt how to channel my feelings but also use them in a way that lets my skill shine through more than my emotions.
If comedy hadn’t worked out, what would Niveditha Prakasam be doing today? And would she be happy?
See, the thing is, as comedians, we always have one foot out the door. What if I am not a comedian in five years? Who knows if I’ll continue doing this? I’d probably just do a corporate job. I’ve done a corporate job while doing stand-up as well. So I’d just continue doing something that gives me a salary. And would I be happy doing it? Well, happiness is a mindset, I guess. As long as I’ve got food on the table and a roof over my head, I think I’ll be fine.
Bombing on stage or forgetting your punchline—which is a worse nightmare?
I’d say bombing on stage stays with you for a long time, and you don’t recover from it easily. Forgetting a punchline, on the other hand, if you can keep going with the set, is much better. When you’re bombing, there’s really no way back. But if you forget a punchline, you can simply move on to the next joke, and most people won’t even notice. So yes, I’d choose forgetting a punchline.
Written jokes or spontaneous crowd work—what’s riskier?
ong as you steer clear of taboo topics. Crowd work is genuinely fun. The whole point, I think, is that it’s almost like you’re talking to a friend, except it’s a stranger in the audience. Crowd work varies for different comedians. Some are known for roasting their audience, but for some of us, when we do crowd work, we’re really just asking about the person, like, ‘what do you do? What’s your name? Are you married?’ And then making jokes about their life situations.’
A lot of audiences in India actually prefer crowd work to written sets. The thing with a written set is that you have to pay close attention. You have to follow this abstract topic the comedian has chosen, stay with the setup, and only then get the punchline. It takes patience. For audiences, especially new ones, it can actually be harder than crowd work. That said, crowd work still requires skill. I wouldn’t call it riskier, but I do think one is harder than the other.
One topic you’ll never joke about…
I think every comedian in the country has two topics they’ll never touch—politics and religion. We just don’t go there. Everything else is fair game. If we were allowed to joke about those things, we probably would. There are still comedians who push those boundaries, but as professionals, there’s nothing we can’t joke about, it’s just that we choose not to because we don’t want to get into trouble.
A joke that always works...
We call them closers. We do shows all the time because we have to practise, and sometimes when we’re testing new material on a crowd, it might work or it might not. If the audience feels a bit cold, we have three or four tried-and-tested jokes in our roster to warm them up again. These always land, no matter who the crowd is. And if they don’t? Well, then we blame the audience because everybody else loves the joke, so if you don’t, that’s on you. There are always a few jokes that work every single time, and we keep them handy for moments like that.
One word to describe Chennai audiences...
Discerning!
For more updates, join/follow our
https://www.whatsapp.com/channel/0029Vb677uz60eBXiDYheb0n

