Vir Das rehearses for his show at Science City on Saturday. (Anindya Shankar Ray)

With a surname like Das, how many times have you been mistaken for a Bengali?

I think I have sold 2,500 tickets tonight only because they think I am a Bengali!

We’ve heard you left the US because of how they pronounced your name [weirdass]?

Arrey, it’s a joke! I left the US because I had no money yaar (laughs). I was very poor. I remember standing in line for some Crocin or something like that. I had fallen very, very sick and I had no medical insurance. So I think the last straw, the hair that broke the camel’s back, was I had to stand in line with some homeless people and with people who were going to die tonight. This was a free clinic and the doctor gave me some paracetamol and four days later I was still very sick. I went back and she said, ‘Yeah you’re still very sick but I can’t give you any more medicine, because this is a one-time-only charity clinic’. So wahan medicines pade hue thhe and I couldn’t get three Crocins out of that doctor! And I was like screw this shit, I’m not worth four Crocins in this country so I am going to go back to India and make something of myself there.

Were you doing comedy there?

I was, I was. I was a waiter and I was doing stand-up comedy regularly there. I got into stand-up comedy because I used to wash dishes at this restaurant called the Grand Lux Café on Michigan Avenue [Chicago]. Four blocks down, there was a bar that used to do amateur nights for comedy. Whenever you are washing dishes, you wrap up later than the rest of the restaurant. That bar used to do comedy very, very late. So it used to be open when I finished and I would go and stand there and that’s how I got into stand-up comedy.

What happened to economics, which is what you had gone to the US to study?

I barely passed it (laughs). I managed to scrape through somehow.

And now the degree helps you count your cheques?

Absolutely, absolutely! It’s kind of ironic because my parents kept saying, ‘All this theatre, all this debating and dramatics and all is going to be the end of your life!’ And it’s the ONLY thing that has saved my ass throughout my life.

A lot of youngsters want to take up stand-up comedy as a profession. What’s your advice to them?

Don’t do it [laughs out loud]. I have a company called Weirdass Comedy where we get emails from maybe 20 people a week, people who are serious about quitting their job or quitting college to become a stand-up comedian. And the one thing I always tell them is — you’ll have to beep it, though — if you can do anything else with your life and be happy, ANY thing else, please for f**k sake do that (grins). Don’t do this. Only do this if it’s the only thing in the world that’ll make you happy. Because there’s that much rejection, it’s that terrifying, it’s that low-paying and it takes that long. It’s a very tough profession.

This show is based on the battle of the sexes. This theme has been done to death by comedians, why did you want to write a show on this again?

Because it’s been done to death. There’s a very scientific angle to the show. I’m at a point now where I have written 18 hours of stand-up comedy — nine different shows, all of which are about two hours each. So, I am done with that point where I am writing about airline food and all that….

Now thematic comedy for me is the way to go. This show is not ‘women like to talk and men like to fart’... it’s a scientific chronology of the battle between men and women.

So, it talks about our communication skills, our vanity, our athletics, our literature abilities, our musical abilities, our films, leadership abilities, business, crime, intoxication, bodies, sex and finally statistics.

If I tell you women like to read Twilight and men read a different type of fiction, it’s because we both have something in our brains called mirror neurons. These give us an enjoyment of fiction, they enable us to suspend disbelief. And women actually have 50 per cent more mirror neurons in their brains than men do, on an average. Which is why women have a greater enjoyment of fiction than men.

And why do you want men and women to sit separately while watching this show?

I just kind of always pictured it that way, you know, in my head… I don’t know why! My theory was that women are always louder when they are in a group of women and men are always louder when they are in a group of men. And may be if I just separated them from their spouses, that’s just the relief they’d need to laugh at the things they’d never be comfortable laughing at otherwise. And it really helps in ticket-selling as well [laughs].

Let’s talk about your April 25 release, Revolver Rani. That’s an entirely different kettle of fish in terms of your film career…

[Laughs] Yeah…! It’s a mad film. It’s this Hindi pulp fiction, kind of like ‘Sau Karor Ki Gudia’… you know like those books that you read at the railway station… those B-grade books? It’s kind of based on that… and it’s this very intense, sexual, selfish, manipulative guy that I am playing to whom horrible things happen and who does horrible things to people as well.

So you’re not funny or wacky in Revolver Rani?

I am, but I think you’ll laugh less because of what I am doing and more because of what is happening to everybody. It’s the first film in my life where I showed up on set and the director [Sai Kabir] just looked at me and said ‘Don’t try and be funny. Just play it straight.’ Because there’s a fair amount of intense work in the film as well — drug addiction, sexual abuse, suicide, physical abuse… it’s not a light comedy.

The minute I read the script I called Tigmanshu [Dhulia, one of the producers] and I was like, ‘Are you sure you want me to do this? Because I’m not your guy, you know. I’m a happy guy! People hire me when their films are not funny, to make the film funny!’

Are you ever tired of being funny?

I’m not, yaar. When I’m off stage I’m just a regular guy, pretty serious and pretty quiet. I’m funny five days or four days a week, that too for two or three hours and after that I’m your average cranky tantrum-y artiste [laughs]. I am sort of in the public eye, so just to be home with the girlfriend and the dog [he has a bulldog called Dr Watson] and good food and good music is… well, heaven.

Who’s your girlfriend? Do we know her?

Not somebody you know… I know her [grins]. Well, she’s not from the industry, she’s an event manager… we live together and… quite happy. She’s not kicked me out yet.

Does she find you funny?

No (pauses)... I don’t think so.

Do you find her funny?

I think she’s hilarious! A lot of my routines are about her. And she’s my litmus test. If I can make her laugh, it’s a really good joke!

Robert Vadra’s pink pants:

I don’t know what kind of political statement they make and I don’t know what they do for national security but in terms of your masculine security, I think you have to be very secure as a male to pull off pink pants, so a round of applause for him. If you can pull it off, more power to you. And when I say ‘pull it off’, I mean wearing the pants, I DON’T mean actually pulling them off!

Samhita Chakraborty

Were you at the Battle of Da Sexes? Which Vir Das joke did you like the best? Tell t2@abp.in