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Within seconds of taking the stage at Helium Comedy Club during a 2023 set, Neeraj Srinivasan delivered a blistering joke about being stuck in a room with all white people at the start of a race war.
“My biggest fear is that I have a set so bad I create a new racist,” he joked during another set, noting that “Portland looks like Wes Anderson directed a mayonnaise ad.”
Srinivasan’s remarks are less about digging on his adopted hometown than they are about sharing a bit of his experience. Even his jokes about not expecting you to be able to pronounce his name come with a nice touch of self-reflection.
“Indians have long names, and I’m convinced that is why we win the spelling bee,” he says. “Our brains are primed from having to identify ourselves.”
There aren’t a large number of Indian comics in general in the U.S., but much of Srinivasan’s comedy centers on his own not-so-common story of being a first-generation Indian who moved to Boise, Idaho, as a kid before ending up in predominantly white Portland.
“Before [Boise], we were living in New Jersey,” he says. “I was one of maybe two Indian kids in my whole [Idaho] school, which was a dramatic change because my previous school was this diverse East Coast melting pot. I think that kind of drastic change causes a lot of weird social trauma, which either turns kids into shut-ins or makes them funny.”
Lucky for us, it was the latter. Srinivasan eventually translated his experiences into smart humor that can veer from self-deprecating, like when he discusses how his father was disappointed in him for not following the Indian dream “where you bust your ass to get a good job where you accumulate a lot of wealth and then treat people that have less than you like garbage” versus the American dream of coasting by.
Srinivasan also delights in critiquing current events. “I’m pro-book banning because it makes it easier for Indians like me to come to America and take your jobs. I’d do away with math and science and bring in creationism and witch hunting. It’s in my best interest to keep the children here dumb,” he once joked to a Portland crowd, who howled in delight.
Offstage, Srinivasan is more contemplative about his ambitions.
“I think doubt and uncertainty create space for a lot of humor, and lifestyle shifts coupled with the journey of immigration is naturally a hotbed for that kind of cognitive dissonance,” he says. “My parents both love cracking jokes, and they left their villages to earn degrees and make a life in the city before I was born. I think the differences between us too are spaces that can be used to cultivate a lot of humor because everyone in my family has dealt with that dissonance.”
Srinivasan caught the comedy bug in middle school when he saw Russell Peters do an hourlong standup set. Along the way, he picked up inspiration from the biting social commentary of Bill Hicks and Chris Rock, as well as Kyle Kinane, Gary Gulman, and Roy Wood Jr., among others. A little more than 12 years ago, Srinivasan mustered the courage to hit the stage, and he’s been hooked ever since.
“The moment I finished my first set I knew I was going to be obsessed with standup for the rest of my life,” he says. “My first jokes were crude, predictable and unoriginal, but it was the singular most thrilling experience of my life up until then.”
After graduating from Washington State University and hitting open mics in Boise, Srinivasan caught a small break when he got accepted into the 2014 Idaho Laugh Fest. There he met Oregon comic Dan Weber (one of 2018′s Funniest Five), who suggested he check out Portland. “I quit my job, packed everything I had into my Honda Civic, and made the drive over,” Srinivasan says.
He began developing his style, which is intelligent and a little snarky, but approachable. Jokes about Gwen Stefani claiming to be Japanese, not wanting to have kids, his PlayStation 5 being a modern man’s chastity belt, and slutty police officers fit in alongside his frequent musings on being Indian in America. Srinivasan credits peers like Emma Arnold, Adam Pasi and Milan Patel in “shaping the tools” that he uses.
When he’s not on the road, Srinivasan can be found in his element, co-hosting the DOUGH showcase every Wednesday at Mississippi Pizza and PREACH every Thursday at The Pope House Bourbon Lounge, along with Robby Sherman, or popping up at local showcases. He may not be quitting his day job working in 2D animation making corporate educational content just yet, but he keeps refining his craft and staying ambitious.
“Someday I’d love to get on Late Night or Netflix, but I feel sincerely stoked and privileged that I get to do this every day,” Srinivasan says. “So my main goal is just to enjoy the journey and see how far this thing takes me.”
Funniest thing he’s seen in Portland: “My favorite Portland moment was years ago when I waved a car to go ahead at a stop sign. The driver turned out to be an incredibly old man. He rolled down the window just to shout, ‘I love ya, baby!’ I laughed about it for days, and think about it often.”