Irreverently Yours, Russell Peters
S. Mitra Kalita

Consider yourself warned. Nobody is safe in comedian Russell Peters' audience. Not blacks, not whites. Not women nor men. And, most of all, not South Asians. In the first five minutes of a recent sold-out show at George Washington University in Washington, D.C., Peters spotted an older couple amid the sea of otherwise youthful faces and singled out the "uncle and auntie" and asked their names.

"You're from India, right?" he asks. "Unless you got the worst-ever Wisconsin accent."

The abuse continued for the next hour as Peters picked out and picked on folks in his roaring audience, dissecting everything from their accents to skin color to body parts that cannot be printed here.

And they loved every minute of it.

Peters stands out in a recent crowd of desi comedians for his unabashed, unapologetic, often raunchy, always raw, humor. He's already made his mark in Canada, winning a Gemini Award (Canada's answer to the Emmy) and appearing on numerous television shows.

He's toured globally - China, South Africa, the United Kingdom - did a talk-show on BBC and is now on tour in the United States performing to mostly sold-out college crowds.

On the list of desiclub.com's top 50 "coolest" desis of 2004, the Toronto-based Peters came in at No.12, sandwiched between model Saira Mohan and producer Rishi Rich.

But the place Peters is creating the most buzz isn't on stage or the college circuit or lists of top desi personalities. Rather, his jokes tend to be forwarded from one e-mail inbox to another. That's led his jokes to be recounted everywhere from around the water cooler to desi dinner parties.

"I'm a product of somebody dumping me on the Internet," he says during an interview with Indian Life & Style backstage after the Washington show. Indeed, the forwards have led some desis to feel like they know Peters and his material well - even if they've never seen him perform on stage or television.

Asked if his real and virtual fans tend to be Indian, Peters hesitates. "Yeah, probably," the 36-year-old finally says. "It would be nice to kid myself but they're probably Indian." Russell Peters - that's his real name, he says; if you've got a problem, blame his parents, Eric and Maureen - grew up in Brampton, Ontario.

Now known for a large Indian population, Peters says he was surrounded by blacks most of his life. He got the performance bug early in his late teens and told his parents he wanted to be a comedian.

"Well, that's good," they said. "Get a real job."
Like the parents of so many South Asians who find success in nontraditional careers, they eventually came around. His father died of cancer last year; Peters' mother still lives in Brampton. Peters recently used his tide of good fortune to renovate her kitchen.

He recalls his earliest stand-up gigs at black clubs. Aptly enough, Peters' bio calls himself "an international spokesperson on clashing cultures." His humor pokes fun at every shade - literally.

"South Indians," he says, "you guys take that dark sh...t way too far," he continues. "I saw one Tamil guy, he was so dark, his shadow was confused." The Tamils aren't off the hook yet. Peters moves on to their language. "They sound like auctioneers when they're talking," he says.

Much of his comedy feels impromptu as Peters singles out people - and their ethnicities - in the audience and riffs for several minutes. During the George Washington show, as two women stood and tried to inconspicuously exit, Peters pointed them out and in an announcer's voice said, "All lesbians, please report to the bathroom."

The rest of his act reflected on his own experiences as a child of Indian immigrants, and resonates with the same crowd. During the same show, Peters questions why parents use chirping noises and bird calls to summon their children (ch-ch-ch). Then he adds the outstretched hand wave that is signature 'Indian Mom'. Political correctness has no place in the show. Some of his one-liners invoke shock and silence - and then guffaws.

When he's talking about Indians' problems with excess hair, he recalls how women used to use bleach to hide unwanted hair. "Sweetheart, we don't have a problem with the color of your mustache."

Peters says he gets his ideas from the absurdity of real life. Comedians, he speculates, lack a filter that the rest of the world has. "If you have a problem with it, you have a problem with reality," he says.

Perhaps that's why he premises so much of his material with the warning, "This really happened. I swear." During one such admonition, Peters goes on to relay meeting some Indian women who just aren't attractive. It's all good, he says, except when their name defies their looks.

"She's like, 'Hi, I'm Priti,'" Peter says, invoking the falsetto voice he uses to impersonate women. "I'm like, f...k no. Only if your last name is Nasty." Shock. Silence. Peters waits for the inevitable.

Laughter.