This entry goes back to the good old days. Days when I used to have a bucket list. Full of things to do. Days when my bucket and my sand clock were two separate articles in my hand baggage.
On the bright side, today I ordered a cold coffee without sugar at Starbucks. So now I sit drinking coffee making faces I used to when I first began drinking beer. Ah! The times. Never again though. Atleast espresso without sugar you can suffer through, coz its always a single shot. Its like a blood test. A single prick of the needle and you're done (whatever happened to those!??). Now, its just like "I need an entire tube of your blood." What if someones roaming around with my blood in a taveez around their neck.
This is not what this is about!
Its about the time I had just turned 25 years old. A quarter of a century just gone. More than a quarter of my life just gone. The days when I wouldnt walk, I would skip.
So i decided to strike stand up comedy off my list. Coz I was always told 'Oh, Karan, you're so funny'. Maybe not always..
So I reach this comedy "workshop", held by Kunal Rao at NCPA (address, address, address). The comedian who does a lot of engineering-CA-south indian-girlfriend/no girlfriend routine (last i'd checked). He is a pioneer of comedians in a way, in india. The first really skinny guy to do engineering-CA-south indian-girlfriend/no girlfriend routine.
Anyways, lets cut to the bone. After we were made aware of mind mapping techniques, we were given an hour or so to prepare our routines. First, lets be made aware of the motley crew we were. There were a couple of comedians who are regulars now, like the Bhullar guy (curly hair) and the grey haired Kunal Rao counterpart. Amongst others were two lawyers I had met at my cousin's house party. There were two older gentlemen too (older than us, you sensitive souls). So the presence of these four made me feel optimistic about being funny.
After our preparation, it was time (Bruce Buffer 4eva). So you had to just volunteer to go up on stage, and read out your material for four minutes tops.
I realised as people raised their hands and took their turns that this was the loop hole I was looking for. As my palms perspired looking at the 5 pages of hilarious (at the time) standup material I had jotted down, I looked around the room, and thought to my self. Does one volunteer to stand in front of a firing squad?
I was no Che (Guevara, whos painting I did have on my door, but I'd left him painted) There was no attendance, no roll numbers.
The last time I had volunteered, the rotis did not turn out GOL.
So I put a condition to my bravery. If these two lawyers did not go up on stage, who was I? So as I hid behind them, they showed the presence of bollocks that I was hoping would be missing. You can never tell can you. Now I was just in the pathetic zone, looking for more cover.
There shined the shiny dome of this uncle, sitting a row down to my left. He was my man. There's only so much of attempted humor that a seasoned humorist like Kunal Rao can endure, and this was beginning to show in his voice. Now Kunal was just asking "Is there anyone left" as opposed to "Who's next?", weeding out the pussies in the crowd, since he had calculated how many would be left (CA background). And just like that, in slow motion (drama or age-related), this shiny dome of a man lifted his hand to show his presence. Its like when the tree on who's branch you're taking cover just shakes you off into the jaws of the tiger.
Now you must be asking where are these Joseph Conrad meets Amar Chitra Katha references coming from. But you musnt. (if you've read these ramblings before).
As this UNCLE went on stage to shower us with his humor he'd collected over the years through his education, his marriage, his inlaws and kids, (I didnt really like him you see), I realised I was out of options. I mean I could just sit there, be a face in the crowd.
The man concluded. 'He's one of us' applause followed.
Kunal : "So I think thats it...."
Just then, my right hand did something that it hadnt done since the misshapen rotis.
It shot into the air.
MY right hand. I'm actually looking at it right now, and believe me, its just staring back. I back down as I dont want to be slapped.
As I looked at my hand sitting in the audience section at the NCPA, Kunal looked at me.
Me, who was ready. Then my body just followed to go up on stage, such is the protocol. Unless it was just the pinky symbol, which curls and uncurls to signify the need (to urinate, preluded by Miss/Maam/Sir/ 'Cher (not the singer, to my knowledge). I've seen people no longer use that symbol though. Now you just announce that you've got to use the bathroom/loo/do susu/poo. Is that symbol so vulgar? Does'nt it reflect pure indian school system values?
Bloody globalisation.
The next thing I know, I am on a elevated platform. I blink. I look at the stairs that elevated me till here. And then I enter the spot light. Its this strong beam of uni-directional light which signifies a certain elevation in society, platform or no platform. Its actually a field. Its a force. I mean I couldnt see the audience. I couldnt hear them. My four pages of hilarious material stood in my hand, shaking like there was a sudden gust of wind. Basically I couldnt read. (not even my Vinod Kambli piece)
It was not funny anymore. It was like when you're on a roll at a party, people just squealing in delight, regaling in your wit when suddenly there's silence, followed by those three words
"Thats not funny, Dude (optional)".
But we got to that without cracking any jokes. I tried to step out of that light but it followed me! I remember muttering something. Now I know muttering with a mic in your hand is not muttering.
(say mutter again, I dare you, I double dare you mutterf*)
The next I know I was descending these steps. Out of the spotlight. White noise ringing in my ears. My eyes downcast, heading straight to the red exit sign.. till I felt a pat on my back. It was Kunal Rao, the comedian, telling me the second thing I said was really funny. "What second thing" I heard myself loud and clear in my head, followed by and echo (echo). "You have a really different sense of humor". Insult? Backhanded comment? Or COMPLIMENT. Who knows. I just wanted to know the second thing I had said. It didnt happen. I still dont know.
But I did it. I struck it off. And here I am blogging about it. I know the three people who will read it. I know the two who will read it till its end. I know the one person who will like it (in their heartS). He/She is called Dapper but can I just ask who they are and just out them like that.
Time will tell. OR you could tell time.
Caffeine out.
On the bright side, today I ordered a cold coffee without sugar at Starbucks. So now I sit drinking coffee making faces I used to when I first began drinking beer. Ah! The times. Never again though. Atleast espresso without sugar you can suffer through, coz its always a single shot. Its like a blood test. A single prick of the needle and you're done (whatever happened to those!??). Now, its just like "I need an entire tube of your blood." What if someones roaming around with my blood in a taveez around their neck.
This is not what this is about!
Its about the time I had just turned 25 years old. A quarter of a century just gone. More than a quarter of my life just gone. The days when I wouldnt walk, I would skip.
So i decided to strike stand up comedy off my list. Coz I was always told 'Oh, Karan, you're so funny'. Maybe not always..
So I reach this comedy "workshop", held by Kunal Rao at NCPA (address, address, address). The comedian who does a lot of engineering-CA-south indian-girlfriend/no girlfriend routine (last i'd checked). He is a pioneer of comedians in a way, in india. The first really skinny guy to do engineering-CA-south indian-girlfriend/no girlfriend routine.
Anyways, lets cut to the bone. After we were made aware of mind mapping techniques, we were given an hour or so to prepare our routines. First, lets be made aware of the motley crew we were. There were a couple of comedians who are regulars now, like the Bhullar guy (curly hair) and the grey haired Kunal Rao counterpart. Amongst others were two lawyers I had met at my cousin's house party. There were two older gentlemen too (older than us, you sensitive souls). So the presence of these four made me feel optimistic about being funny.
After our preparation, it was time (Bruce Buffer 4eva). So you had to just volunteer to go up on stage, and read out your material for four minutes tops.
I realised as people raised their hands and took their turns that this was the loop hole I was looking for. As my palms perspired looking at the 5 pages of hilarious (at the time) standup material I had jotted down, I looked around the room, and thought to my self. Does one volunteer to stand in front of a firing squad?
I was no Che (Guevara, whos painting I did have on my door, but I'd left him painted) There was no attendance, no roll numbers.
The last time I had volunteered, the rotis did not turn out GOL.
So I put a condition to my bravery. If these two lawyers did not go up on stage, who was I? So as I hid behind them, they showed the presence of bollocks that I was hoping would be missing. You can never tell can you. Now I was just in the pathetic zone, looking for more cover.
There shined the shiny dome of this uncle, sitting a row down to my left. He was my man. There's only so much of attempted humor that a seasoned humorist like Kunal Rao can endure, and this was beginning to show in his voice. Now Kunal was just asking "Is there anyone left" as opposed to "Who's next?", weeding out the pussies in the crowd, since he had calculated how many would be left (CA background). And just like that, in slow motion (drama or age-related), this shiny dome of a man lifted his hand to show his presence. Its like when the tree on who's branch you're taking cover just shakes you off into the jaws of the tiger.
Now you must be asking where are these Joseph Conrad meets Amar Chitra Katha references coming from. But you musnt. (if you've read these ramblings before).
As this UNCLE went on stage to shower us with his humor he'd collected over the years through his education, his marriage, his inlaws and kids, (I didnt really like him you see), I realised I was out of options. I mean I could just sit there, be a face in the crowd.
The man concluded. 'He's one of us' applause followed.
Kunal : "So I think thats it...."
Just then, my right hand did something that it hadnt done since the misshapen rotis.
It shot into the air.
MY right hand. I'm actually looking at it right now, and believe me, its just staring back. I back down as I dont want to be slapped.
As I looked at my hand sitting in the audience section at the NCPA, Kunal looked at me.
Me, who was ready. Then my body just followed to go up on stage, such is the protocol. Unless it was just the pinky symbol, which curls and uncurls to signify the need (to urinate, preluded by Miss/Maam/Sir/ 'Cher (not the singer, to my knowledge). I've seen people no longer use that symbol though. Now you just announce that you've got to use the bathroom/loo/do susu/poo. Is that symbol so vulgar? Does'nt it reflect pure indian school system values?
Bloody globalisation.
The next thing I know, I am on a elevated platform. I blink. I look at the stairs that elevated me till here. And then I enter the spot light. Its this strong beam of uni-directional light which signifies a certain elevation in society, platform or no platform. Its actually a field. Its a force. I mean I couldnt see the audience. I couldnt hear them. My four pages of hilarious material stood in my hand, shaking like there was a sudden gust of wind. Basically I couldnt read. (not even my Vinod Kambli piece)
It was not funny anymore. It was like when you're on a roll at a party, people just squealing in delight, regaling in your wit when suddenly there's silence, followed by those three words
"Thats not funny, Dude (optional)".
But we got to that without cracking any jokes. I tried to step out of that light but it followed me! I remember muttering something. Now I know muttering with a mic in your hand is not muttering.
(say mutter again, I dare you, I double dare you mutterf*)
The next I know I was descending these steps. Out of the spotlight. White noise ringing in my ears. My eyes downcast, heading straight to the red exit sign.. till I felt a pat on my back. It was Kunal Rao, the comedian, telling me the second thing I said was really funny. "What second thing" I heard myself loud and clear in my head, followed by and echo (echo). "You have a really different sense of humor". Insult? Backhanded comment? Or COMPLIMENT. Who knows. I just wanted to know the second thing I had said. It didnt happen. I still dont know.
But I did it. I struck it off. And here I am blogging about it. I know the three people who will read it. I know the two who will read it till its end. I know the one person who will like it (in their heartS). He/She is called Dapper but can I just ask who they are and just out them like that.
Time will tell. OR you could tell time.
Caffeine out.
Aforementioned cousin is reading this!
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