Breaking into Comedy in Mumbai!

When I started doing stand-up over a decade ago, there was only one other Indian I knew in the United States who was crazy enough to want to make telling jokes a job, let alone a career.

I later learned that besides this girl and me, there were a few other brothers and sisters doing this dubious activity in Canada and Britain -- one of whom was a Canuck whose last name is Peters.

We were a rare breed.

In those days, a funny Indian was like a sober Irishman, a humble Frenchman or a slightly optimistic Englishman.

Most kids in the world were asked the question, “What do you want to be when you are older?”

Indians abroad were asked “What type of doctor will you be when you are older?”

So, to go to Indian weddings and parties and openly tell people you were a comedian would either result in a dumbfounded look, a demand for a joke on the spot (for free of course) or a Delhi auntie favorite: "Are you gay?"

Nowadays, being a comedian is like being Indian in today’s global economy -- it’s cool and everyone wants to be your friend.

When I perform at The Comedy Store in Mumbai, I meet so many local people who tell me that they want to be a comedian or that they are a comedian. These are usually intoxicated uncles who try to persuade me that a joke about farting that they once mentioned at their cousin-in-law’s wedding 20 years ago is comedy gold, and that I would be insane if I didn’t use it.

Because the comedy scene is so young in India, I believe it is easy to break into the comedy circuit, to get stage time, but the question is -- what are you going to do with it?

A lot of wannabes that I watch and meet at open mikes want to be famous, but what they forget is that stand-up is not about telling jokes -- it is a craft, and it takes time to hone.

There are few cases like a guy I had the honor of performing with, Sacha Baron Cohen (Ali G and Borat) who did his first gig and then got a TV show.

People don’t realize that when Russell Peters' first YouTube clip became a hit, he had been doing stand-up for years (and had the lack of hair to prove it).

When I started my career in New York, I used to fight to get time and usually that slot was as comedian No. 60 at 3 a.m. in front of three drunk dudes who were barely conscious.

Those are the gigs that every comedian needs. Because those are the gigs where you have to go off script, where you find you and what you really want to say.

Before I toured with Russell, I remember doing a Diwali show with him in London and him taking me aside and saying, “Write jokes that are truthful.”

Now, I find myself passing on that same advice to up-and-coming comedians in Mumbai.

Don’t go for jokes that are easy, don’t take for granted the stage time you are getting. Don’t be afraid of falling flat on your face.

Because, as the comedy scene gets more mature and there are more venues for stand-up, the audience will get more jaded (like they are in most clubs in New York and Los Angeles) and demand higher standards. The comedians who last are the ones who never settled.

Because if you are serious about being a comedian (and don’t have the blessing of knowing or being related to uncles who are masters of jokes on flatulence), then it’s not about breaking into the scene, it’s about breaking the mold of what it means to be a comedian.