<p>Kajol Srinivasan, based in Mumbai, has been doing standup for five years. Trained as a computer engineer, she began her career as a “one-person graphic design company” and then switched to comedy. She is now touring the country doing solo shows. “My mom is Bengali, and my dad Tamil, which makes me sound like the sequel to a Chetan Bhagat book,” she tells Metrolife, in a tongue-in-cheek interview ahead of her show in Bengaluru.</p>.<p class="Question"><strong><span class="bold">How and when did you decide to become a comedian?</span></strong></p>.<p>Five years ago I went on Shaadi.com, you know, that dating app for married men. It probably works great for women under 30, but after a series of humiliating experiences on what I can only call Shaadishuda.com, I asked myself would it be any worse to tank on stage. I have always been a writer and loved the thought of going on stage, but I lacked the guts. A combination of factors finally pushed me to sign up for my first open mic. And I realised standup was exactly what I needed to do. </p>.<p class="Question"><strong><span class="bold">What are the challenges for a comedian whose acts include risque and political jokes? </span></strong></p>.<p>Let’s add in a third factor: what are the challenges for a female comedian doing risque and political jokes? Unfortunately, it matters. I have to work a bit harder to be taken seriously where politics is concerned. And having my Twitter handle @lolrakshak being quoted by the media on and off helps. Where risque humour is concerned, I have to work harder at not being taken seriously. People are willing to believe every word I say, not realising a lot is exaggeration.</p>.<p>I have had to escape through the kitchen exit of a bar once when a man objected to a political joke. And I am called a nice selection of names online for daring to do sexual jokes. Fact is, I don’t feel shamed anymore. After five years of this, you realise that people come up with the same unoriginal insults. Also, standup comedy is all about coming to terms with your sense of shame. Shame is used to discipline us as kids, and it becomes the biggest fear and obstacle to being yourself. </p>.<p class="Question"><strong><span class="bold">In your experience, what is the funniest thing about Bengaluru? </span></strong></p>.<p>People here behaving like the airport is in a different country... This is my first trip flying in — I had come years ago by train — and everyone is going on about how I will take hours to reach the city. I feel this is a lot of horror creation. It isn’t that far, is it?</p>.<p><em><span class="italic">(Kajol performs at 8 pm, April 16, at Flux, Indiranagar)</span></em></p>
<p>Kajol Srinivasan, based in Mumbai, has been doing standup for five years. Trained as a computer engineer, she began her career as a “one-person graphic design company” and then switched to comedy. She is now touring the country doing solo shows. “My mom is Bengali, and my dad Tamil, which makes me sound like the sequel to a Chetan Bhagat book,” she tells Metrolife, in a tongue-in-cheek interview ahead of her show in Bengaluru.</p>.<p class="Question"><strong><span class="bold">How and when did you decide to become a comedian?</span></strong></p>.<p>Five years ago I went on Shaadi.com, you know, that dating app for married men. It probably works great for women under 30, but after a series of humiliating experiences on what I can only call Shaadishuda.com, I asked myself would it be any worse to tank on stage. I have always been a writer and loved the thought of going on stage, but I lacked the guts. A combination of factors finally pushed me to sign up for my first open mic. And I realised standup was exactly what I needed to do. </p>.<p class="Question"><strong><span class="bold">What are the challenges for a comedian whose acts include risque and political jokes? </span></strong></p>.<p>Let’s add in a third factor: what are the challenges for a female comedian doing risque and political jokes? Unfortunately, it matters. I have to work a bit harder to be taken seriously where politics is concerned. And having my Twitter handle @lolrakshak being quoted by the media on and off helps. Where risque humour is concerned, I have to work harder at not being taken seriously. People are willing to believe every word I say, not realising a lot is exaggeration.</p>.<p>I have had to escape through the kitchen exit of a bar once when a man objected to a political joke. And I am called a nice selection of names online for daring to do sexual jokes. Fact is, I don’t feel shamed anymore. After five years of this, you realise that people come up with the same unoriginal insults. Also, standup comedy is all about coming to terms with your sense of shame. Shame is used to discipline us as kids, and it becomes the biggest fear and obstacle to being yourself. </p>.<p class="Question"><strong><span class="bold">In your experience, what is the funniest thing about Bengaluru? </span></strong></p>.<p>People here behaving like the airport is in a different country... This is my first trip flying in — I had come years ago by train — and everyone is going on about how I will take hours to reach the city. I feel this is a lot of horror creation. It isn’t that far, is it?</p>.<p><em><span class="italic">(Kajol performs at 8 pm, April 16, at Flux, Indiranagar)</span></em></p>