Mood Kharaab review: Biswa Kalyan Rath’s best standup special yet

Standup comedy largely draws from observational, experiential humor and thrives on relatability. Jokes born out of deep hurt, stifled desires, and unexpressed trauma often hit the hardest. This is why Biswa’s stories in Mood Kharaab feel so lived, so personal. When he narrates the incident of how he and his younger brother once collided into their school teacher just to say pranaam to him because they were told to do that, it transported me to the time when my sister, then 10 years old, wouldn’t stop arguing with my mother over a wrong spelling. She simply refused to believe that her teacher could err. Similarly, Biswa’s tryst with getting a proper cricket bat reminded me of my father wanting a study table as a young student or asking for a school blazer from my grandfather after he unwittingly lost his one day on his way back home. He never got either.

When Biswa declares that he is a pessimist, he is not half-guessing or thinking aloud, or trying to seek validation. He has lived long enough to actually know. I am a misanthrope and after having lived for 30 years in a cloyingly social world, I am well aware of the perils of being one. I did not get to choose to be a recluse, but with time, I’ve learned to accept it and even find the grace to joke about it on good days. As I’ve begun to know myself better, it has become easier to avoid distressing, triggering situations. Those around me who understand and are willing to adapt, stay. Mine has always been an incredibly small world and I like it like that—neat, organised, intimate, quiet. The rest of the world can go big on fomos and yolos. I choose to be home.

Biswa’s fears about mindless tech advancements—aggressive, relentless marketing powered by Artificial Intelligence, the horrors of online shopping, and our obsessive, mind-numbing internet behaviours—or just his frustration with the random inanity of listicles that seem to be everywhere, aren’t his alone. We are living inside Black Mirror. No matter how hard you try, there is no escaping it. You may mute it, plug it off, uninstall it, shut your windows, and crawl into the safety of your bed, but you’ll still find it lying next to you, dangerously close. Believers may continue to harp about how accessible tech has remarkably improved our quality of life, but for perceptive, aging millennials, the bubble has long burst.

The 33-year-old ends the special with a series of what he calls “unfairy tales” that he recommends new parents raise their children on. Pragmatic and philosophical, they are gold. Had my generation been raised on them, we’d be telling remarkably different stories today.