In a small café basement, stand-up comedian Masoom Rajwani is cracking jokes about a government-run school near his house.
“They always construct a new floor just before elections, for votes,” he tells the audience. “I once went and asked the teacher, ‘Isn’t this wrong? Isn’t this unfair?’ and the teacher was like ‘No, this is how we teach maths to the kids! Elections happen every five years, the building has four floors: Tell me how old the building is.’”
The crowd chuckles as Mr. Rajwani wades into riskier territory.
Why We Wrote This
One of the greatest challenges for any democracy is to determine the boundaries of free speech. India’s booming stand-up scene is the latest battleground for that debate, as some comedians face backlash from Hindu nationalists.
“This is the state of the school, and the state of education is even worse than that. It is just propaganda. ‘Raj has five mangoes, Abdul has six oranges: Calculate when the Muslim population will surpass the Hindu population.’”
The room bursts into laughter and applause. But that joke, poking fun at the rise of Hindu nationalism and political leaders’ fearmongering of Muslims, could just as easily earn Mr. Rajwani a visit from the police.
India’s stand-up scene has evolved dramatically in the last decade, with Indian comics packing stadiums and raking in millions of views on platforms like YouTube. The risks have grown, too. Unlike in the United States – where a comedian might bomb a show or, at worst, get “canceled” because of an offensive joke – Indian comics have faced death threats, police complaints, and even jail time over sets that anger Hindu nationalists.
The country is already facing a broader crackdown on freedom of expression, which has targeted journalists, academics, and students who criticize the ruling Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) and its Hindus-first political philosophy. Geeta Seshu, co-founder of the Free Speech Collective in Mumbai, says the government’s failure to uphold free speech has empowered right-wing vigilantes to try to police India’s booming comedy scene. She says these groups “are easily insulted by satire, and lie in wait to take offense,” forcing comics to walk a fine line between humor and controversy.
“We are not fortunate enough to have the freedom and maturity of Western comedy scenes,” says Azeem Banatwalla, who has been a stand-up comedian for 11 years. “I prefer to look at it as a test of my craft to dance along the lines that are drawn and redrawn by the powers that be. It’s all well and good to aspire to absolute freedom of speech and expect people to not get upset, but you have to be cognizant of the world and society you live in.”
India’s online comedy boom
The rapid growth of internet usage across India has helped propel the country’s comedy scene forward. India currently has the largest youth population in the world, as well as the largest YouTube audience, with around 491 million users. A 2023 NielsenIQ study found that comedy was the most popular genre of content among the growing number of Indians who stream shows and movies on their TVs.
Mr. Rajwani, who dropped out of law school in 2016 to join India’s rising comedy scene, now has nearly 15,000 subscribers on YouTube and over 47,000 followers on Instagram, where he posts clips about feminism, Islamophobia, and other issues central to Indian society.
“Stand-up is inherently antiestablishment and rebellious, which appeals to young people,” he says, but in today’s India, that also comes with risks.
Using a Hindu deity’s name is the most dangerous, and jabs at politicians can also get a comedian in trouble with the law. Mr. Rajwani was once called to a police station to apologize for a religious joke that allegedly offended an audience member – a complaint that, due to a lack of evidence, never resulted in a formal case. He got off relatively easy, he says.
In 2021, Mr. Rajwani’s friend, comedian and actor Munawar Faruqui, spent 37 days in prison after the son of a BJP leader accused him and others of making “indecent” and “vulgar” remarks about Hindu deities and India’s Minister of Home Affairs. Police found no evidence of Mr. Faruqui making such jokes, and the Supreme Court eventually granted him interim bail. His career has taken off in the years since, but danger still looms. Last October, Mumbai police upped the comedian’s security after a prominent gang threatened his life.
“The audience will clap in a show, but no one will support you at a police station,” says Mr. Rajwani. “But I think it is worth the risk. I’m as privileged as it gets – [an] upper-caste, English-speaking Hindu male from Mumbai. If I don’t speak, then who will?”
Indeed, some comedians and free speech watchdogs worry that vigilante harassment is fostering an environment of self-censorship.
The Monitor reached out to over 30 comedians in Mumbai, where a mob vandalized a comedy venue in March over jokes criticizing the state’s deputy minister. Only four agreed to speak.
Responsible comedy
Akhilee Matta sees value in a little restraint.
“Comedy should uplift, not offend,” she says. “If my parents are watching and celebrating my videos, I want them to feel proud – not uncomfortable or ashamed of what I’ve created.”
Ms. Matta spent over a decade in corporate India before her husband spotted that her wit could command a room. In 2019, he encouraged her to start attending weekend open mics. This year, she quit her day job to become a full-time comic.
Throughout this period, she has seen a growing trend of comedians being what she considers overly provocative to gain attention online. Some have appeared on “India’s Got Latent,” a YouTube show popular for its no-filter policy. In February, a police investigation over obscene and derogatory remarks led to all of the show’s episodes being removed from the site.
Hearing a petition regarding the show, Supreme Court judges acknowledged freedom of speech as a fundamental right, but stressed that it cannot be used to demean others. They indicated that “using filthy language is not talent,” and that free speech “cannot carry with it the liberty to speak loosely on such serious issues and dismiss such statements as satire.”
Online controversies have often helped comedians to shoot to fame, but “you don’t need shock to succeed,” says Ms. Matta.
Still, she feels that the audience bears some responsibility. If you don’t like someone’s comedy, don’t watch them, she says. “We live in a democracy where everything is subjective, everybody has their own idea of comedy. I think performers should be a little responsible also,” she adds.
Manjeet Sarkar thinks Indian comics, by and large, could be pushing the envelope further.
“Stand-up comedy should challenge people,” says the Bengaluru-based comedian, who is currently on a national tour. “There’s a difference between offending someone’s comfort and disrespecting someone’s dignity.”
His sets draw from his lived experience growing up as a Dalit, the lowest tier of India’s centuries-old caste hierarchy. Jokes about caste discrimination may not top vigilantes’ lists of triggers, but in India’s upper-caste-dominated comedy scene, they’re risky in their own right. Mr. Sarkar says he’s had trouble booking venues, and received backlash from both sides of the political spectrum – including from fellow comedians.
“For me, it’s not left vs. right,” he says. “It’s left upper caste and right upper caste. They all avoid talking about caste.”
Overall, he tries to mitigate risks by resisting the impulse to shock the audience just for shock’s sake, instead rooting his sets in personal experience and historical research – and as long as he’s punching up, he’s OK ruffling some feathers.
“I’m not here to provoke blindly,” he says. “I’m here to make it harder to look away.”
