My life is only comedy, boss

I just want to say I’m happy no comedian I know in Bengaluru has an active reading habit. So please don’t send this to any of them – unless you think I can be their opening act.

Once, when I was busking outside a comedy club in the city, I said, “Please come and watch stand-up comedy,” and a guy replied, “No thanks, my life is only comedy, boss!” It reminded me of what my theatre teacher in London said: “The only difference between comedy and tragedy is timing.” Of course, I mentioned that to brag that I studied theatre in London.

Comic timing is everything – especially the timing of when you start doing comedy. I started in my mid-40s, or as it’s more commonly called, senior-citizen age. Don’t give me that BS that “age is in your head.” It’s not. It’s in my legs – they get tired faster from busking. If you don’t believe me, ask any young comic (apparently that’s what comedians are called now; in my generation, Indrajaal and Tinkle were the comics). They don’t call me “Aunty” out of sheer politeness.

Let’s unpack “busking” a bit. I love that word – unpack. In London, I thought buskers were beggars. I took pity on them until I dated one who had an apartment bigger than mine. Then I pitied myself.

In Bengaluru, busking is begging. Begging strangers to watch your comedy show. At first, I had to fight some serious suicidal tendencies. With no money for therapy, I fought it alone. I thought twenty years of being a trained theatre actor would’ve taken me somewhere. Instead, here I was, a senior citizen standing on the road asking strangers to watch a comedy show. Then I saw famous comics do it too. I ate the humble pie.

Open mics are fascinating. They’re meant to test material on unsuspecting strangers. They’re also a crash course in anatomy – a biology refresher, really. A favourite subject for male comics is private parts, mostly theirs. And when it’s an act on dating, the girlfriend’s. They describe how it stands up, sits down, undergoes mood swings... I’m glad men are finally touching – sorry, getting in touch – with their emotions. I just pity the audience; they came expecting comedy and got porn instead.

The bro code

Another favourite is bashing feminism. From being to a fair number of open mics, I now gather that it is a term for a woman who doesn’t like... anything. Like it’s so ubiquitous. I love using fancy words like ‘ubiquitous’; I can’t use it in a comedy set because no one will understand, and I’ll be labelled “that English comic!”

I have a recurring dream of a male comic’s act that goes: “I asked the girl on a date, ‘Do you want Chinese food?’ She said no. I asked if she wanted Japanese. She said no. I asked if she wanted Indian. She said no. So on another date with a woman, I told her, ‘I hope you’re not some kind of feminist who hates all food?’”

Okay, bad joke. But in dreams, you’re allowed bad jokes.

Sometimes I wish these comics had a reading habit. Some basic education on feminism would help. Maybe open mic venues could host classes during the day. I’ll happily teach. It broke my heart to hear even a female comic bash feminism.

I love the comedy club bros – they drink, gossip, busk together, give each other comedy performance spots. I want to belong to those cliques. I want to tell them I’m a feminist, but a harmless one. After all, I’m a senior citizen, too tired to bash anyone, let alone men.

Once, after my set on dating a younger guy, the host said, “Hey, I’ve heard of sugar daddies, but ever heard of a sugar mommy?” The audience went silent.
The host got irritated and said, “You’re all such feminists, bro!”

Apparently, all female comics talk about menstruation, so I’ve stopped doing that. Apparently, they all do male-bashing too. I’ve never done that – I’m not that stupid. I don’t want to end
my career before it even takes off.

Basically, I just want you readers to keep an eye out for me and come watch my show. And if you’re a producer, this was a long-winded pitch to take notice of me, since you won’t respond to my Instagram DMs. I need a Susie Myerson, the tough producer from The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel. She’s a producer by day and a feminist by night. Until then, you’ll find me busking on the streets of Bengaluru.

(The writer is a stand-up comedian and actor based in Bengaluru)