Comically Yours

Last stand-up

Having a friend with the same mental disorder as you is priceless.~ Armaan Mathur

Chapter-8

My father, Vikram Mathur, and I were standing on the balcony of my rented apartment and in front of us were the towering apartment buildings. My parents had come from Nanital to stay with me before I leave for US. My mother even arranged a get together to boost about me in front of the relatives. I hated it but I was helpless just like my father.

“I don’t like it here. In fact I never liked Delhi,” my father said, looking at the jungle of concrete around us.

It was true. For someone who lived most of his life amongst the nature in Nanital, overly populated and polluted Delhi might not be a good proposition. He liked country side more than urban cities.

“I watched your videos on YouTube,” he said after a pause.

“Really?” I was surprised. My stand up generally catered to younger audiences.

“Yes,” he replied. “I kind of liked it.”

“Thanks dad!” I replied, gladly. “It means a lot to me.”

“No problem.” He smiled. “So…you all set for US?”

“Yes,” I replied, smiling back.

“What about stand-up?” he questioned.

“I guess that’s it for stand-up.” I pursed my lips.

“Have you thought it through?” he frowned.

“Dad—”

“You know you can continue working here and carry on with your stand-up thing if you want to.”

“Actually—”

He cut me again. “I mean what’s more important to you- US or standup?”

I wasn’t sure what to say. I never thought about it this way.

“VIKRAM! ARMAAN!” my mother came to my rescue as she shouted from inside. “COME FAST IN. EVERYONE HAS COME.”

My father patted me on the back. “Let’s go inside before she comes here.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. I have inherited my sense of humor from him. 

When we went in, I was bombarded with congratulations and best wishes by my relatives. I don’t understand why moving to US is considered an achievement. I wanted to be somewhere else. But as the evening progressed I talked to my uncles and aunts and started feeling better. It was good in a way that everyone had come since I didn’t have to go and visit each one of them before going to US anymore.

“How long will Armaan be in US, Rani?” asked Neetu aunty to my mother. They were childhood friends.

“He will be there for at least three years.” My mother proudly answered.

Neetu aunty was lost for a while before her eyes shone. “You remember my sister Meetu? Her daughter is also studying in US. If you want-” she paused. “-you know what I mean.”

She had my mother’s complete attention now. They conspired to get me hitched since it was the first thing in my mother’s agenda for me. She was elated that I was going to US but at the same time she was equally worried. What if I get married someone in US? This question was eating her inside. We already had an argument about it. She told me, “you are 26 now and in three years you will be 29.” I knew what she meant. Also, I knew she was looking out for girls for me.

Everything was going fine until someone brought up the topic of my stand-ups. The last thing I wanted was to perform for them since my acts were for the today’s generation and thus were not their cup of tea. But my mother had different plans. She insisted me to perform something for the guests thus adding to my misery. I looked at my father. He blinked, suggesting me to give in. This is what he has done since marriage. Give in.