Page 204 of 12 Years
‘I’m doing great too. Thanks to you guys at Blackwater and CloudX. You guys sent me so much money, I don’t have to do any real work anymore. That’s why am here, doing comedy,’ I said.
A few people sniggered in the audience.
‘But seriously, my friend Mudit here, he told me, we’re rich now. We must do some rich-people things. I have no idea what rich people do. I asked him, what can we do? And he’s like, let’s go to the spa. So, this morning, the two of us went to the spa, in the St. Regis Hotel, where we’re staying, to get a Kerala Ayurvedic massage. Anybody here who’s done that?’
A few people in the audience raised their hands.
‘I’d never done it before,’ I said. ‘I went there. They made me lie down on this narrow bed, and then they poured oil all over me. Like, they soak you in a drum of oil. And I’m like, what’s this? Are they going to deep-fry me? Give me a tadka?’
A few people laughed. Sitting in the first row, Mudit smiled when I looked at him.
I continued, ‘It’s nice to be rich though. My partner, Mudit, and I can finally travel business class. Even though we don’t really have a business anymore,’ I said, pointing at Mudit. He waved sheepishly as people laughed.
‘No, seriously. I remember the early days of the company. If Mudit and I had to fly somewhere for work, we would opt for the lowest, cheapest seats available. Like, we wanteda classlowerthan economy. There should be one for people like us, isn’t it? Those who want to save, no matter the flying conditions. Maybe call it survival class? Okay wait, that exists. It’s called Indigo, isn’t it?’
People clapped and laughed in the audience. Lot of Indigo pain points, I guess.
‘Okay, guys, that was just a joke, no offence to Indigo. Anyway, when SecurityNet started to do better, Mudit and I said, “We’re senior management. We should fly better.” But we couldn’t afford business class, not just yet. So, we flew this new class—premium economy. Wait, what? What doespremium economymean? Is it premium? Or is it economy? Make up your mind, guys. Who the hell got paid to come up with this name? Premium or economy? How can you be both?’
The crowd laughed. Mudit gave me a thumbs-up.
‘Anyway, our company is called SecurityNet. Well, it’s no longer our company, technically. You guys bought it, it’s your problem now,’ I said.
Neeraj laughed, though I could see a hint of worry on his face.
‘Anyway, we do cybersecurity. Nobody understands what that is, right? We’re like the guys who make the annoying pick-all-the-traffic-lights-in-the-picture tests. Sometimes, we ask that question even when there are no traffic lights in the picture. Yeah, we like to mess with people like that.’
The CloudX and SecurityNet teams laughed the most at this joke.
‘Honestly, though, I’ve never understood those CAPTCHA things. You go to buy a train ticket. And the website goes, “Prove you’re not a robot.” Dude, what is that supposed tomean? Why would a robot want to buy a train ticket in the first place? It can just go for free, as baggage, right?’
Everyone in the audience laughed, except for one elderly couple: Mr and Mrs Grumpy Jain, who remained as glum as ever.
‘Business class and all is fine, but speaking of train tickets, I miss Indian trains. As a child, I used to travel on trains with my family. India’s train culture is unique. There are some products that only exist for trains. Like chains, to tie up your luggage to the berth. Yes, my mother used to love chaining up her suitcases. Someone might steal her nighties, you see.’
People laughed uncontrollably at this joke. I could see Payal laughing as well.
‘But I remember this one time, when she’d chained and locked everything, all the suitcases, and then she lost the keys, and when Chandigarh station came …’ I paused strategically. The audience, imagining the rest, spilled into laughter.
‘Yes, we had seven minutes to break two locks and get out at Chandigarh,’ I said. ‘Anyway, I could go on with this comedy act,’ I said, ‘but who needs comedy, when your own life has been the biggest joke.’
A few in the audience laughed, expecting another routine.
‘I just want to share something with you guys, something I’ve never shared in public …’ I said, my tone serious.
The audience sat up straighter and looked at each other, wondering what was going on.
‘This venue,’ I said, ‘has a lot of meaning for me. Twelve years ago, I left my job in the US and came here to Mumbai. My marriage had also ended. I decided to have a fresh start. Mudit, my best friend, gave me a chance to do stand-upcomedy here. Right on this stage. And here I am today, twelve long years later, celebrating something else. With him.’
The audience clapped.
‘There’s been a lot of career growth in the last twelve years. And thanks to you guys, now I have a ton of money I don’t even know what to do with. But I think the biggest growth for me isn’t all that. It’s the fact that I finally have the courage to be myself at forty-five, something I didn’t have at thirty-three. Which is why I can stand here and say what I want to today.’
The entire audience listened with full attention.
‘You see, twelve years ago, when I did my first-ever act here—which was terrible, by the way—I met someone. Right here, in the audience. She was twenty-one, I was thirty-three …’
I looked at Payal. Even in the dim lighting, I could see that her face had turned white. She looked terrified of what I was going to say next.
