Bombay's First Comedy Club

Consumption has risen rapidly in almost all categories over the last few years in Bombay except laughs (at least in the Western-style stand-up format). A new venture venture opened two weeks ago by the famous British Chain The Comedy Store is changing all that.

Given it's India's first stand-up, it's certainly going through some growing pains, but overall the experience was surprisingly entertaining. The laughs were as good as at any top-notch comedy club in UK/US--to be fair, the comedians were British and American. A few highlights:

1) The Culturally Tone Deaf MC
The Irish MC caused more than a few cringe-worthy chuckles talking to a mother in front row: referring to her as a MILF, asking about her breast feeding habits--in front of her grown children and an audience full of Indians

2) The Unnecessarily "Helpful" Audience
More than once, an audience member tried to loudly clarify a current events related exaggeration/simplification made by the comedian for the purpose of a joke

3) The Home-Grown Comedian
One of the best parts of the show was the organization introducing a bonus act of a local (Bengali comedian) who did an all-too-brief yet hilarious piece on Bengali culture and Indian television.

Definitely going back to this place especially if they continue to encourage local talent. Best part, you can't beat the price--only Rs 500 ($10, excludes food and drink).

Selling Love: One Commercial at a Time

Ironically, in a country where >50% of marriages are arranged,* >99% of movies are about love. Whereas the West is accused of using sex to sell, I dare say India uses love to sell--from breakfast cereals to cars. Arguably, precisely because pre-marital love so rare and verboten in many circles, it is so often romanticized (the old--Wordsworthian--meaning of that word).

The most blatant yet effective example of selling using love in India yet is by the Platinum Guild International (PGI)--a shady sounding organization that appears to be the DeBeers of Platinum in India. Their commercials specifically exploit the Indian system of arranged marriage and ask couples in effect, "You know the day you were married, but do you remember the day you fell in love? Commemorate that day with super-expensive matching platinum rings."

Readers I ask you, what PDI asks me every time I watch a world cup match: "What is your platinum day of love?"


* Note, exact stats on arranged marriages in India are difficult to find as the practice varies widely along ethno-linguistic, regional, economic class, and caste lines.

3rd Time's the Harm--Indian Bureacracy Part III: The Dreaded DMV (RTO)

As you know from previous two interactions with Indian Bureacracy (one, two), the result is always the same: Too slow (them), too furious (you). Going to the ultimate bureaucracy even by Western standards--the DMV/RTO--you can imagine my apprehension.

However, to my great surprise, the day was all simplicity and expediency: the whole process took only 15 min.* A few observations:

1) They gave me a license without my taking a written or driving test (I just showed them a US license)
2) Video explaining road rules of Maharashtra was in Punjabi with a hilarious host which is ultimately more farcical for the reason that very people speak Punjabi in Maharashtra
3) Bombay RTO is more advanced than most US DMVs: they even took my finger prints electronically!
4) I got excited to see a slice of real Bombay given that there are few places more democratizing than the DMV, but alas the majority of the people getting licenses were teenage brats from Malabar hill in Diesel tees and madras shorts
5) For some reason, as part of getting my license, I was interviewed by the Assistant Commissioner of Police (ACP) of South Mumbai. Notice, on below graphic from the RTO website, he doesn't actually report to anyone! Good thing he decided not to go all power-trippy on me.

* It might be worth noting here that I paid other people do all the work for me for the license so all I had to was show-up and get printed and photographed (I didn't fill out a single form or wait in a single line). In the good old days, you didn't even have to go to the RTO to get a license!

Monsoon, monsoon go away

The Monsoon has arrived. How do I know that it's the monsoon versus just normal rain? That's like asking me, how do I know it's the BP oil spill and not Bobby Jindal's hummer leaking petrol. I think everyone knows what rain looks like, this is what monsoon in Bombay looks like:

The monsoon inspires a Seussian* exasperation in me (and yes, it's only day of the 3-month monsoon) a la Green Eggs and Ham:

I could not, would not, in my house.

I would not, could not, want this douse.

I would not need it at the docks.

I would not want it on the rocks.

I would not want it here or there.

I would not want it anywhere.

I needn't have in this monsoon swam.

I do not like it, Sri-I-am.

Fortunately, I'm somewhat spared given my car has arrived and it's not coincidence that the nicer parts of the city are generally elevated (e.g. Malabar HILL, Cumbala HILL, AltaMOUNT Road, etc.)


* Random fact for those of you non-members of Gang Green, Dr. Seuss--Theodor Geisel--is a Dartmouth Alum!

The Bombay Brunch

Hard to believe it's taken me almost 8 months of living in the city experience this Bombay institution, but I finally had a proper Bombay brunch this weekend. What you may ask is the difference between a Bombay Brunch and a Brunch? Sunday brunch has taken on a slightly different meaning in India than in New York: it's less 'Sex and the City', more 'Friends'. Beyond the difference in cultural connotation, the key differences are four-fold:

1) It's all you can eat (but in a tasteful mix of buffet + made-to-order)
2) It's all you can drink (limited by eclectic mix of drinks from champagne and Bloody Mary's to kiwi, mango and banana milk drinks)
3) Designated drivers are often available for free/almost free
4) Did I mention it was all you can drink?

Location of this brunch was at Indigo (displayed above), aka white central--I think foreigners actually outnumbered Indians among the clientele. The Sunday brunch, by the way, is also the singularly best way to ruin your entire Sunday: I literally did nothing useful after that brunch.

Baby's First Drive (in India)!

Yesterday, I drove myself home. Normally, this would not be an accomplishment, but given that it's left-hand driving and Mumbai, I deserve a gold star. Below are some key lessons I learned from my brief experience:

1) Close your side mirrors--unless you want to lose them
2) Use rear view mirror ONLY to practice your driving 'game face' and NOTHING else
3) Use your horn--as frequently as possible
4) Ignore lanes--it's often more dangerous to try to follow lane driving
5) Never follow driven behind/in front/anywhere around anyone with below scarlet letter

Above "L-Board" indicates a "learning driver." Technically, I should have one of these I guess, oh well.