Vir Das: Fool Volume

Nocturne, nocturne

Once again the night

Is coming on...

Hey, London, what's up? Hello.

Let's start. All rise.

You actually did it. Sit the fuck down.

I've always wanted to do that shit, man.

Jesus Christ!

He's not here. He's not here!

He sent me.

Nocturne...

What's up, Mumbai? Hello.

I have good news, and I have bad news.

- Which one would you like to hear first? - Bad news.

Most Indian answer ever.

Because in India, someone else's bad news...

The bad news is this.

I'm really happy.

- Whoa! - Yeah.

But the good news is I'll talk about it and hopefully, it'll just go away.

'Cause when we talk about our happiness,

Indian people violate a rule that we've been taught since the British Raj,

"Happiness is silence."

Right? This is why if you ask any Indian, "Are you happy?"

we'll be like...

Now, don't be confused. This is not a confirmation.

This is not a denial. This is a misdirection.

This is not us going, "I don't know."

This is us going, "I don't want you to know.

I only want God to know."

'Cause you got to be honest with God, right, guys?

God talks to us, yes?

God says things like, "I love you. Be strong. Vote for me."

Streets clear up Phones...

- What's up, New York? You're good? - Yeah!

All right, let me tell you a story. Well, a backstory.

I just shot my new Netflix Special, man.

It cuts between London and Mumbai,

and it's a show I wrote in silence.

Well, rewrote.

And the silence is my fault by the way.

Because the... I don't know. Things were going well.

And... I think I got a little arrogant.

And I think the universe can sense arrogance.

Uh, I was in a hotel room in London.

Six weeks before I was supposed to take my new Netflix Special

in a church in London and a stadium in Mumbai,

something in the Universe went...

And I woke up without a voice.

Hmm...

Biggest show of my career, six weeks to go.

My voice wasn't sore, it was just gone.

Broken, silent.

It's like the government in my body had changed.

And my family was like, "You've been sharing too much good news."

You've activated the evil eye.

I'll explain, American people. The evil eye is ill-wishers.

But they do not do ill to you. They just casually wish ill upon you.

They've combined evil with delegation.

They wish, right? They'll just blow an eyelash

and be like, "Give him erectile dysfunction."

Which I don't mean to mock. I'm sure it's quite hard.

But, uh...

But the evil eye's a powerful force.

Right? And in India, we call the evil eye...

Nazar.

Family, that's right. Yes.

Speaking of family,

it is so fucking good to be home. What's up, Mumbai?

What's up, London? What's up, New York?

Good to see you guys.

The minute you share good news the evil eye is activated.

Observe. I will share some good news. Ready?

So, uh, I won a tiny Emmy Award, all right? And, uh...

Thank you, thank you.

Thank you for supporting my comedy,

and, uh, my family thanks you as well.

Guys, the artist you're watching is nowcritically acclaimed.

Except the acclaim comes from white people, so nobody gives a fuck.

White validation is brown kryptonite.

Everybody is like, "He has betrayed his country."

I know what you're thinking. "Vir, kryptonite is green."

No, that's white money, which is a brown magnet,

which is why you live here, and you have betrayed your country.

Evil eye.

No, I get it. A lot of people were conflicted when I won the award,

because I'm an English comedian in India.

And we have this post-colonial resentment of the English language.

We equate English with privilege. Correct?

Falsely so, by the way.

There are many countries in the world where people speak great English,

who are dirt poor.

For instance, the country of England.

If you speak good English, they're like, "Vir Das is not relatable.

Not relatable."

Yeah, neither wasOppenheimer.

You watched that shit, no?

Why're you so insecure?

Why do you need to be "related to" all the fucking time?

Did you watchOppenheimerlike, "I just don't see myself in the mushroom cloud."

Although give Putin five years...

But in India, there's a spectrum.

If your English is very bad, we will judge you.

But if your English is very good...

- Judge you. - ...we will judge you, right?

It's this... this Appu - Vivek Ramaswamy spectrum.

Right? This... This Mowgli - Rishi Sunak spectrum.

This Kangana - Tharoor spectrum.

Right? They were also...

The night that I won my Emmy Award, two Indian critics,

mainstream critics got on TV.

And one of them was like, "I don't like Vir Das."

And she was like, "Why?" She said, "His English is too good."

You... you can't be mad at people because they enunciate.

I'm sorry, Mumbai, to enunciate means that you, uh...

We're not the best, right guys?

This first girl I hooked up in Mumbai...

Every time we'd hook up, she'll be like, "Ey, suno, let's bang, no, men?"

"Ey, suno, let's bang no men"

Then we would have consensual sex while assaulting two languages.

You get judged, man.

Like I remember once,

one of India's top Hindi comedians came up to me and he was like,

"Vir, you're too global.

Indian stand-up is not global.

You sound privileged. You have to sound relatable, like us."

And then he left in a Range Rover.

And that's when you realize the most privileged people in the world

don't speak English, don't need English.

Think about it.

Jack Ma - Mandarin.

Mukesh Ambani - Gujarati.

Elon Musk - X.

No English is required.

Then I got taken to England's top vocal doctor.

And he informed me

that I had massive vocals cysts on both of my vocal cords.

And he said, "Mr. Das,

it could be seven months before you speak properly again.

But you know, look at Djokovic.

Injured, out for six months.

Does so much physio...," "...back in five weeks.

You just gotta find a Djokovic inside you."

Do you know how patronizing it is

to compare a comedian to a professional athlete?

That's equivalent to like, if his patient dies,

and I'm like, "I know it's sad but look at Jesus."

"Crucified, out for eternity, does so much physio..."

"Back in three days!"

"You just gotta find a Jesus inside you."

Can you imagine a brown man with a beard telling a white man to find Jesus?

The last guy who did that was Jesus.

But I'm training.

I just fired my American trainer. I got a proper Indian trainer, right?

Speaks Hindi, has a paunch.

'Cause this western guy kept saying

all this privileged shit I didn't understand.

He said, "Mr. Das, if you wanna get really lean,

we gotta feed and fast, feed and fast.

We gotta surprise your body."

I was like, "Bro, I live in Mumbai.

If I wanna surprise mybody, I will cross the road."

"I will be much leaner when there is an SUV on top of my body."

Random privileged shit. "Mr. Das, are you having any antioxidants?"

I'm like, "The AQI is 599 right now.

What oxygen are you referring to in Mumbai?"

At this point, my body converts monoxide into dioxide.

I am an antioxidant.

We have lost half the crowd, by the way. Half the crowd is gone, right?

They're like, "Why's he teaching science?

Did not come here to learn about oxygen!"

"Just make me laugh, bro. Don't make me think!"

This is you!

In the comments, "Just make me laugh, bro!

Don't make me think."

Get someone to tickle you, you basic bitch, all right?

Random privileged shit.

"Uh, Mr. Das, what're your thoughts on probiotics?"

Do you guys know about probiotics here?

"Your thoughts on probiotics?"

And I was like, "I believe in a woman's right to choose."

"I am probiotic."

He was like, "Mr. Das, you're making a mistake."

And I said, "I shouldn't have to live with that mistake for the rest of my life."

This trainer... it was so hard not to sound like him

when I was talking to him.

Indian people... we have a horrible habit.

When we talk to somebody with a foreign accent,

like a dementor, we inhale their accent.

And do their accent back to their face.

Like, a sweet French guy will come over to your house for dinner.

He'll be like, "This ismagnifique.

Could I have some more chickentikka, please?"

You will walk into your own kitchen,

look at your Indian mother

and be like, "He would like some more chickentikka."

Your mother will come, look at the French guy and be like,

"Beta, would you like some more..."

Now the French guy is fucking terrified, right?

He's like, "Uh, Aunty, I would like some more..."