When I was a child, I got an opportunity to see all the big players in a cricket match. I was a ball boy outside the boundary line. I picked the ball and waited a bit for Sachin Tendulkar to come near me to give it to him. The sense of being in the same space was special. While thousands were watching, I was close to Sachin.
My father was a doctor, but his passion was making cars, and he was also very good at carpentry. He was a gem, and I don't blame him for not understanding me. When I told him that I would be leaving, he checked his pocket and took out 100-rupee note and gave it to me. He did not like that I was leaving, yet he gave me the money.
My dad's from that generation like a lot of immigrants where he feels like if you come to this country, you pay this thing like the American dream tax: like you're going to endure some racism, and if it doesn't cost you your life, well hey, you lucked out. Pay it; there you go, Uncle Sam. I was born here, so I actually had the audacity of equality.
I like to have straight-up black coffee, but when you get it, sometimes you'll burn your tongue, or it spills on your hands, and you get third degree burns. I happen to be the kind of human being who doesn't want to sue coffee companies for money, so I just say, 'Hey, can you give me some coffee, but can you also give me like, eight ice cubes.'
To show that a comedian on stage in India talking about sanitation or in South Africa talking about HIV and AIDS awareness, if you follow the joke into their lives, you can see that, like, oh, these things aren't just contrived in joke books. This is real life. I think the best comedians have that bravery and courage to say, Oh, this is what it is.
The day-to-day microaggressions that we all face, yeah, you have to let some stuff slide, or you go, 'I gotta keep moving; there's bigger fish to fry.' It's something that I still deal with. But I've tried to have the audacity of equality and to follow my heart in those moments where I feel like something is wrong.