A popular club in Pune hosted the first in a planned series of live comic nights last Wednesday,ushering in a new era and level of recreation. Never mind that all three comedians were non-locals – someone has to lead the way after all. And as I learned,the success of a stand-up routine can tell you a few things about the people and place hosting it.
First,that they are liberal and sophisticated enough (or affecting the same) to overlook the outrageous,deliberately offensive language and themes that make up the modern comedians repertoire of humour. Secondly,it tells you that the audience is sporting and/or thick-skinned,for anybody who has YouTubed popular stand-up comedians knows that they single out audience members and summarily caricature the region or community they belong to.
Thirdly and in my view most crucially,it brings out the happy evidence that there is a demand for interactive,self-creating entertainment. English stand-up comedy may not in its current form be family-oriented material but it is a vastly more interesting way of spending the weekend than say,watching TV or standing around a bar while twitching to the same generic tunes. One of the banes of a fast-spreading urban lifestyle is that we have all become experts at poring over menus,making small talk and downing drinks so as to distract ourselves from our immediate environment in which our restless minds cannot find anything to interest them.
The show I attended had a very nice rule: no orders while the artists are on stage. The announcement sounded like a practical joke to the regulars at the citys watering holes,our little group included. There was some initial grumbling from people who,doubtless by force of long habit,seemed to consider plates and glasses an extension of themselves and felt quite naked to simply be standing there empty-handed. If you think about it,the only time we stand on our feet for long durations without any personal occupation or purpose is during aartis or rock concerts,both of which are fervour-inducing events that transfix us long enough to hold our ground. The stand-up comedy show offered no such likelihood. What on earth were we to do if the artists werent funny?
We spent the good part of an hour laughing,hooting and shaping our own experience; for it was our roars of appreciation that spurred on the fat guy to deliver one verbal bombshell after another,our groans that changed a stream of sexist jokes into much funnier relationship observations,and our thin applause that encouraged the youngest artist to raise the bar when his juvenile jibes fell flat.
The audience exhibited an impressive level of maturity for people who are not regularly exposed to such anarchic wit. Its not always that a booed performer is allowed to continue and finish on a positive note. Everybody took everything with a pinch of salt,as they were meant to. Its official,Pune; stand-up is the new margarita.
The author is a chess grandmaster and former national champion