Interview: Zakir Khan brings a kaleidoscope of emotions in his genre-bending stand-up act Tathastu

Comedy is mostly defined as good jokes, punch lines and sharp satire. But Zakir Khan’s latest show Tathastu has redefined comedy. It’s a tale about the artist’s own life, spanning three generations, several eras and evocative of laughter, introspection, redemption, pain and recovery from personal loss. The one and half hour show is divided into three chapters – Paradise, Exile and Return. In the first, he introduces us to his formative years being born in a Rajasthani joint family in Indore. We learn about the colourful characters of his family that boasts of a legacy in classical music. From grandfather Ustad Moinuddin Khan known to the world as a sarangi maestro, chachi (aunty) typecast by the entire family as a sorceress and fufa (uncle) admonishing him for rumours swirled by his grandfather to cousins — a bunch of frolics who love to delve into tomfoolery — a lot is revealed as he lets us in.

Expect jokes on joint family setups, hilarious rumours, and sharp satire on poignant subjects like freedom of women, male chauvinism and poverty. “Every era has its own social context. As a comedian, you have to be aware of your own social reality to connect with people,” he tells us over a Zoom interview. We asked him how he was able to pull off such a long standup show. “With practice, of course. Also, it is the love of people plus hard work that has made it lively.”

Ode to roots
The 35-year-old comedian talks in depth about his grandfather Khan Saheb. He spotlights his peculiar ways — a boisterous famous persona, magical aura, honesty and ego that bereft him of showing his love for his grandson. As Zakir takes us through a sentimental yet ludic homage to his late grandfather, the audience itself becomes a character. They burst into laughter. In the next moment, tears roll down their eyes –— soon to be dried with an unexpected punch line and finally, a repose into introspection pinned with silence. The show ends on an emotional note revealing the demise of his grandfather. Fittingly, its name Tathastu translates to bidding farewell. “I genuinely don’t know where the name came from, but it just felt right to name it Tathastu. Last year, I felt like changing the name thinking it was not that intriguing. I posted on Instagram for suggestions and got a backlash (laughs). People said ‘don't even try to change it’.” Zakir’s late grandfather is shown as an epitome of a cultured man rooted in family, values and traditions. Through him, he pays a tribute to his roots. “I think a lot of learning and your behaviour has to do with where you have started. Most people deny their roots. But just by acknowledging them, one could make a difference.” Zakir says.

Unconventional route
Despite being under the tutelage of great musical maestros at home, Zakir did not take up a conventional music career. He learnt sitar, but also polished his spoken skills. “My father wanted me to be in a profession that involves public speaking. He wanted me to be verbally smarter because he himself is a quiet person. He encouraged me to take part in debates, poetry and speak fluent English. I started exploring my skills on that side while I was learning sitar. I changed multiple schools and saw it as a great opportunity to be a newer person each time. When I reached college, I discovered I had become this sharp talker. Just by talking to someone, I could get things done. I could see the magic of that skill. The perk of it was so instant and influencing that I treaded the path of comedy,” he shares.

Zakir came to Delhi in his ’20s. In chapter two, Exile, he puts an incredible show of his life earnings under the wings of connoisseurs. “When I came to Delhi, I was working very hard. I used to watch theatre, help people in production, and worked in All India Radio as a sound engineer for just 210 rupees per day. In my unemployment days, there were a lot of people who were kind enough to let me be around them and learn. So, just the belief in yourself is not enough. You have to really learn a lot and put yourself out there, learn from the trial-error of elders,” Zakir says.

Beyond ‘Sakht launda’
Zakir rose to fame with a brand of comedy that highlights coming-of-age issues of youth. He often touches on love, relationships, and heart breaks to bullying as seen in shows like Kaksha Gyarahwi and Haqq Se Single.Some of his punch lines have even turned into colloquial terms like the Sakht Launda image that shows him maintaining self control to save himself from falling easily for someone. However, by chapter 3 of Tathastu, titled the Return, Zakir busts his own cool image. He opens the crevices of grief, vulnerability and self realisation after the passing of his grandfather. The audience melts when he tenders pearls of wisdom. “Professional loss is temporary, but the personal loss is permanent,” he shares with us recalling the line from the show. The comedian did touch briefly on topics of marriage and companionship. When asked where the youth is going wrong in navigating themselves in relationships, he tells us, “I think people are not committing properly in relationships. Also, when they are in love, they tend to forget themselves. They start doing things which they don’t like. Don’t do things which you can’t do, don’t over-commit.” On a closing note, we asked him how he’s able to bring a kaleidoscope of emotions with just a single show and he responds, “Kaunsi baat kahan, kaise kahi jaati hai, yeh saleeka ho toh harr baat suni jaati hai,” recalling the lines penned by Urdu-poet Wasim Barelvi.

Tathastu is streaming on Amazon Prime Video.
Mail: priyamvada@newindianexpress.com
Twitter: @RanaPriyamvada