Here’s the thing about Lamakaan audiences. They come pre-loaded with love. They clap for you like you’re their kid saying your full name for the first time. I’ve seen bad shows there. I have never seen a bad audience. And no comedian I know has ever had a bad show at Lamakaan, which tells you everything. If you bombed there, it wasn’t the room. It was you. Go sit and think.
For comedians though, the honeymoon didn’t last. A few dirty jokes and in two months, stand up became the first art form banned from Lamakaan. Comedians getting banned that fast, honestly, just a Tuesday.
Years later, a writer I know, Danish Majeed, wrote a book called The Hyderabadis: From 1947 to the Present Day, and invited me to the discussion. I was honoured. Also I had nothing else to do that night, so I went.
First stop, canteen, obviously. Demonetisation happened. Covid happened. Oil prices did whatever oil prices do. This menu didn’t blink. Same price, same taste, same everything. I think the food is made for the artist’s soul, so their mood stays nice and they make good art. Or the chef is also secretly an artist. Either way, respect.
Nimbu pani, omelette, old style waiting in line, then sat down for the talk.
Twenty, thirty people in a circle. The writer was there himself, stacking his own books like he’s setting up his own surprise party. Half the crowd came late. The mosquitoes came on time. So I killed mosquitoes for a while, free service, no thanks given.
Then I looked around properly. Everyone there looked like they could run their own Lamakaan from their garage. Regulars. People who’ve been coming since before I was even doing comedy. I don’t even know who the cheap samosas are for anymore. Everyone looks rich enough to skip the discount and generous enough to pay for everybody else’s too.
Then I met a filmmaker who is still making the same movie he told me about in 2016. Still making it. Same movie. And that’s when it hit me. The samosas are for this guy.
Lamakaan really is a gift for any art still figuring itself out. It’s also a stage, literally, for a lot of voices and protests that don’t get a stage anywhere else in the city. And if your art hasn’t found its audience yet, Lamakaan is the place. There are people I met there who attend literally every single event. They won’t consume art anywhere else. If it’s not happening at Lamakaan, it’s not art to them, and the rest of the day they’re writing code like everybody else. Nice hobby to have if you live near Banjara Hills. I’d have it too, if I lived near Banjara Hills.
I thought about staying longer, but the mosquitoes had the same idea, so I gave up and left. Very glad I went though, to the Mother Teresa of art houses in Hyderabad.
Sandesh
@msgfromsandesh
(This comedian is here to tell funny stories about Hyderabad)
(The writer’s views are his own)
