The internet algorithm is basically a modern-day self-fulfilling prophecy. Something pops up on your feed, plants ideas in your head and before you know it, you’re living them out. That’s exactly what happened after I first saw comedian Akaash Singh absolutely destroy an audience member on YouTube Shorts. His delivery was diabolically quick, fearless and laced with the kind of wit that makes you laugh before you even process the insult. Maybe it was that specific clip I saw but boy, did it set the bar high.
Next thing I knew, I was deep in an Akaash Singh spiral, watching all of his most viewed clips and getting sucked into his stage presence. So, when my Instagram algorithm — clearly more self-aware than I am — started bombarding me with ads for his upcoming Nashville show at Zanies Comedy Club, I knew I had to be there.
The thought of watching my first live stand-up show — and dragging my friends along — was too good to pass up. A few strategic messages in the group chat (read: shameless coercion), and we had tickets. The hard part? Getting eight college students to commit to a Thursday night out in the middle of peak midterm season.
For two weeks, the plan barely made it past the group chat. Everyone had an excuse — exams, projects, sheer exhaustion. But this time was different. This wasn’t just a random night out. This was Akaash Singh. This was Zanies.
I’d been in Nashville for over a year and Zanies had always been one of those places I heard about from the more socially ravenous — the ones who actually explored the city instead of rotting away in campus libraries. Now, finally, I’d get to experience it firsthand.
By 6:51 p.m. CST, I was outside the venue, surrounded by a buzzing crowd ranging from young adults to millennials. The neon glow of the Zanies sign flickered above, the air thick with anticipation. Inside, the atmosphere was like a battleground and the comedian had the mic. The only defense? Your wits.
Seated across the two-floor layout, people grinned nervously, awaiting their fate. They say you don’t just watch a stand-up show — you risk becoming part of it.
Around 7:30 p.m. CST, the host introduced Akaash Singh and he came straight to business. He locked onto a front-row couple and unleashed a rapid-fire roast session — their careers, their relationship and their entire existence. The poor guy worked in car assembly, which Singh tore apart by tying it back to how it doesn’t fit the stereotypical Indian career path. Brutal.
But here’s the thing about Singh — he doesn’t just roast people for sport. He ties it back to himself, to his immigrant experience and personal struggles. The man had a rough childhood, and I have massive respect for how he’s open about it in a public setting.
For example, he talked about his immigrant identity crisis. Singh grew up in Texas, where he said he was never “American” enough, only to visit India and get ridiculed for not having the right Hindi accent. His advice?
“Next time your cousins make fun of your Hindi, just remind them their English is just as bad,” Singh said.
Solid advice; I could’ve used it back in 2013.
And for him, it’s not just about his comedic timing; it’s his layered storytelling that makes him so good. Every now and then, he’d break into a deep, thought-provoking reflection, like his take on why Indian immigrant dads are so rigid. He likened it to an American kid growing up, going to college, building a successful life and then suddenly moving to Cambodia. His point: Our parents lived that. That’s why they’re the way they are. Even though he and his dad have a strained relationship, he still extends his father the grace he can.
Before wrapping up, it’d be an injustice to not share my favorite joke of the evening. Singh offered up some wisdom on the dynamics of a happy marriage, speaking directly to the young men in the audience. In particular, he shared a bit about his and his wife’s journey to have children. When things weren’t working out, he got himself tested, and his results came back perfectly fine. Naturally, he said, his wife felt guilty, thinking she might be the issue.
That’s where Akaash masterfully set the trap. He built the tension with such caution that the audience had even seized their breath as to not muffle what the man was preaching. Then, he delivered the punchline.
“Fellas, when your wife starts feeling bad, just look her in the eyes, take a deep breath and say, ‘Go to the kitchen and make me an omelet… because those are the eggs you can control,’” Singh said.
The room erupted in chaos and laughter.
As the fun-filled event came to a close and I walked out of Zanies, I found myself processing the experience. It was a night well spent; I laughed, and I learned. Because here’s the thing — comedy, when done right, isn’t just entertainment. It’s catharsis. It breaks down walls, forces you to confront uncomfortable truths and, somehow in the process, makes you feel lighter.
Akaash Singh didn’t just perform that night — he commanded the room, tore it apart and left us all in stitches. And, as I stepped out into the cool Nashville night, one thought lingered: this wasn’t just a comedy show. It was a rare kind of experience — the kind that stays with you long after the last laugh.
