This month, comedian Pranit More has captured significant attention following a controversial incident at one of his performances, which involved an audience member who sparked widespread discontent over a biryani priced at Rs 370.
Most are now familiar with the video featuring Himanshu, a 22-year-old web developer from Gurgaon, who shared an account of a date where he paid for a Rs 370 biryani. His retelling of the experience was not only crass but also deeply unsettling, leading to the clip gaining rapid traction online. This reaction is not entirely unexpected, as this pattern of public outrage is not new.
Typically, a comedian, podcaster, or audience member makes a provocative statement, prompting a wave of online indignation. This results in the creation of think pieces, trending hashtags, and debates about freedom of speech versus accountability. The landscape of Indian comedy, especially in the past decade, has been shaped by such cycles, with figures like AIB and Tanmay Bhatt to Samay Raina and Kunal Kamra finding themselves in the midst of similar controversies.
However, what struck me was not the original clip but the ensuing reaction.
Instead of a prolonged discussion about issues like misogyny and consent or whether Pranit More should have confronted the individual on stage, social media platforms were flooded with messages from women encouraging one another to handle their own finances. Female influencers promoted messages about splitting bills, enhancing their careers, and achieving financial independence. The dialogue shifted from a man degrading a woman to women figuring out strategies to prevent such situations from occurring.
This led me to ponder the absence of the outrage cycle I had come to expect—a cycle that meticulously analyzes comedians’ comments, files police reports over jokes, and subjects creators to intense scrutiny. More critically, I questioned why the onus of this discussion appeared to rest solely on women rather than on the men responsible.
The Rs 370 biryani incident is not merely about one individual’s remarks; it reflects broader issues of accountability and the distribution of consequences.
The repercussions were immediate. Just days after the clip gained notoriety, Himanshu lost his job. This outcome divided opinions online. Some viewed it as a form of accountability, while others criticized it as mob justice. Commentary from users on LinkedIn suggested that personal conduct should not impact one’s professional life, while others defended the company’s decision to distance itself from the troubling remarks that had become a topic of national discourse.
I find it challenging to empathize with the “mob justice” perspective in this case.
This is not because I agree that every offensive comment should jeopardize someone’s employment, but rather because the situation at the comedy event was not a matter of poorly phrased humor or an unpopular viewpoint. It involved a man casually sharing a story in which spending Rs 370 on biryani seemed to imply he was owed something in return. Moreover, the version circulating online was merely a sanitized excerpt; the actual comments were far more graphic and disturbing than what most viewers encountered.
It is important to note that companies are not legal entities; they do not ascertain guilt or innocence, but rather assess risk. When an employee becomes associated with a controversy that raises questions about their values in the public eye, companies typically prioritize their own interests and reputation.
This approach can be seen as harsh or merely self-preserving, but consequences were always likely to ensue. The pivotal question remains whether the right individuals faced repercussions.
Reflecting on this controversy, I was reminded of the earlier Samay Raina incident, where a tasteless joke on a comedy show ignited a national uproar. Legal actions were taken, politicians intervened, and creators who were present but not involved found themselves entangled in the fallout. The punishment extended far beyond the initial joke.
In contrast, the Pranit More situation presents a different scenario.
Here, we are not facing a hypothetical situation or an ill-conceived punchline; we are witnessing a man recounting an alleged real-life interaction where paying Rs 370 for biryani somehow influenced his expectations of entitlement in return.
Yet, the outrage machine appeared notably subdued.
Himanshu’s job loss was predictable, yet what about the others? What of the comedian who laughed, deemed it “peak Gurgaon content,” and shared it with a vast audience? What about the social framework that turned a troubling interaction into viral entertainment?
Instead, the narrative swiftly transitioned. An online apology emerged, and the comments celebrated accountability. The public seemed satisfied.
This dynamic is particularly intriguing. In India, a joke about parental figures can incite FIRs, political backlash, and extensive public scrutiny. However, when the focus shifts to themes of misogyny, sexual entitlement, and the casual belittlement of women, our outrage appears to become selective.
Clearly, we know where to draw the line. The challenge lies in articulating why that line appears to shift.
As I observed this controversy unfold, my interest in Himanshu, Pranit More, or even the debate over his termination waned.
What truly captivated me was the public response.
It is evident that we can recognize misogyny when it presents itself. No one could watch that clip and conclude it reflected a healthy attitude towards women. No one genuinely believes that spending Rs 370 on a biryani entitles someone to intimacy. Yet, our outrage often lacks the same intensity when it involves a woman as the target.
Instead, we negotiate and contextualize.
