Radhika Vaz is a comedian. Her book, 'Unladylike', will be published by Aleph Book Company in November 2015. This is an excerpt available exclusively on ndtv.com I never thought I would be a comedian, I thought I would be a corporate raider. I didn't know what that meant, but I had seen Michael Douglas in
Wall Street and Richard Gere in
Pretty Woman, and I knew that both had money, power and hookers. I wanted this to be my life.
I was in my 30s when I made the discovery that I was a performer; some of us are late bloomers, what can I tell you? That said, comedy was not a conscious decision. I slipped in to it. And the starting point of this slip that became a slide that has since become a freefall started in 2001 when I moved to New York City. I lived with my boyfriend and every day I would go to work, hit the gym, and then come home expecting to be entertained. I was in a new, overwhelming city, I had few friends, no money and my first year there was lived with the daily dread of deportation. It was right after 9/11, people were being fired left and right, and I was in a funk.
Which is why my boyfriend sat me down one evening and explained that he had a goal. He was going to run the New York City marathon in a few months and he would be training intensively for it. Then he asked me what I planned to do with my spare time.
Isn't there anything you want to do? Any classes you want to take? This is New York, you can do anything.He was right.
I had always wanted to learn French or something.Or something. This was utter rubbish; I had the opportunity to learn both French and Hindi in school and I had frittered it away. The result, as my father loves to put it, is that I now speak two languages - Poor Quality Hindi and Poor Quality English. Anyhow, there wasn't a chance in hell I was actually going to sit down and try that on again. But I had to say something - who did he think he was with his stupid goals?
We left it at that but the seed of embarrassment had been planted. I wondered what classes to take. Languages had obviously been eliminated, I briefly considered a gourmet cooking class, and I even thought about running the bloody marathon. But I knew that all of this was either too much work, too much work or too much work. Then something happened that changed my life.
Halle Berry won an Academy Award for
Monster's Ball and watching this brown girl with short hair weep through her acceptance speech made me think I too could be a highly successful dramatic actress. And so in order to become an Academy Award winner, I decided to take up acting lessons. It sounded glamorous and far less taxing than conjugating verbs. In hindsight, I realize I should have probably stuck to languages, but that is the beauty of life - if we ever knew in advance how hard something was likely to be, we wouldn't do it. And so off I went to HB Studio, a well-loved institution amongst the city's acting community because it's cheap, you can take just one class at a time, and anyone can join - this last one being the cornerstone of every institution, academic or otherwise, that I have been part of.
My first time there was on a Thursday night after work. It was pouring rain that evening and I almost didn't go. But the idea of being the chick with no life of her own was really bothering me, so I hitched up my big girl bloomers and shoved off. My objective was to grab the school prospectus and then go home and fantasize about winning an Oscar for a few weeks. After that I would decide on what classes I wanted to take. It was a slow night and there was just one other person there: she was Latina and older than me. Her kids were grown and she needed something to do. I suspected her husband may have shamed her in to it but then I realized that not all women need to be pushed to accomplish things - some do so with no prodding whatsoever and I learnt this the hard way.
As we complained bitterly about the weather we were about to expose ourselves to, we noticed a poster advertising a free improv class with a teacher from Los Angeles. The class was due to start in less than 10 minutes and despite the instructor's impeccable resume, I most certainly wasn't going to impulsively attend it. I had to go home and do nothing as planned. But women who accomplish things on their own do not take kindly to this type of reasoning and the next thing I knew my Latina pal and I were standing in an improv class, at the end of which she left and I signed up for the season. It was a no-brainer. There were no lines to learn - I could not possibly ask for less.
I didn't know this then but I would eventually teach improv - a skill I treasure because it allows me to spread the idea that the unknown is fun, and that taking a risk, even if you fall flat on your face, is better than sitting still. Thanks to improv, I learned to write comedy monologues, and then I strung those monologues together into my first one-woman show. I didn't know any of this would happen; like I said, I was on track to win an Oscar, something I still intend to do the moment I am cast in a biopic about Indira Gandhi where I will play Jawaharlal Nehru.
Improv also taught me to focus on what is happening right now and to let go of the stuff I can't control. Like ageing. Age can play havoc with a woman's mind. It can make you hate anyone under 25 and, far worse, it can make you hate yourself. It is harder on pretty people, so at least I don't have that problem, but it's still tough. Your face and ass loosen up at the exact same time and people notice this and call you "Ma'am" and "Aunty". But you can actually escape this burning building if you find something that has nothing to do with how you look, and for me, this life raft is comedy.
Comedy gave me a career, a sense of accomplishment, and confidence. In the words of a Victoria Secret supermodel (I don't know which one, I was too busy staring at her thigh gap), "There is nothing more sexy than confidence". I believe this. It's not about being an egomaniac, or about being the best. It's about learning to love what you can do without worrying too much about what everyone else is up to. I still have bad days. Like that day when I had to share the gym with Shahid Kapoor. Have you seen how YOUNG and PRETTY he is? Then I remember I am funny. And go back to my squats.
Radhika Vaz is performing her comedy special 'Older. Angrier. Hairier.' at Delhi's Kamani Auditorium at 8 pm on Sept 18 (Friday) and at Bangalore's Jagriti Theatre at 8 pm on Sept 30 (Wednesday). Tickets are available on BookMyShow.Disclaimer: The opinions expressed within this article are the personal opinions of the author. The facts and opinions appearing in the article do not reflect the views of NDTV and NDTV does not assume any responsibility or liability for the same.