In his 1942 work The Myth of Sisyphus, Albert Camus explains his philosophy of the absurd as a juxtaposition of the fundamental human need to seek meaning and the resounding hush from the universe. In the final chapter, he draws a comparison between the futility of human existence and Sisyphus’ situation, a Greek mythological figure who was condemned to repeat forever the same meaningless task of pushing a boulder up a mountain, only to see it roll down again just as it neared the top. He argues that even though Sisyphus doesn’t “like” his boulder in the traditional sense, he finds meaning and even happiness in his punishment by embracing it.
As a student approaching his twenties, with hope in my heart and a healthy anticipation for the future, I didn’t really grasp the essence of what Camus was trying to illustrate. However, I was reminded of the essay while watching Kanan Gill’s latest special What Is This? And now, as a jaded 30-year-old, I see what Camus, and in some sense Gill, are trying to say.
The hour-and-a-half-long special (available for Rs 359 on Gill’s YouTube channel) is the latest addition to Gill’s repertoire of existential humour. Through the lens of Indian bureaucracy, online dating and snap judgments that are characteristic of a midlife crisis, Gill examines the millennial condition. Maybe that’s why he argues that the special is “best enjoyed by people who are 30 and above”.
By anchoring these themes in lived experience, he creates a special that feels tightly woven and immaculately layered even when it appears to wander.
Right off the bat, Gill takes aim at our onerous lives and calls out the charade. “You want your life to be longer. But you don’t even like it.” This sets the tone for the next 90 minutes. The comedian’s measured cynicism will continue to reveal the various holes in our lives. He’s not apologetic about it either. “Life has sucked for your family for five generations—why would it be good for you?”
The philosophy here isn’t buried beneath layers of abstraction. “Problems? Exist. Destination? You. Source? Unclear” Gill declares. This is not a comedian interested in small, easily solvable truths. He has little patience for foundational statements like “There is a cow” (iykyk). This special marks his complete transformation to a realist who isn’t afraid to call a spade a spade. Most of us are upset with our lives and he isn’t going to let you forget that even while watching his special. You thought comedy was your escape? Think again.
The through line of What Is This? is built around what Gill calls “property, partner, and prayer”—the three pillars people on the wrong side of 30 instinctively reach for when confronted with the growing emptiness in their lives. These ideas are vast, almost unwieldy. Yet Gill grounds them in deeply personal, sharply constructed bits: one about paperwork purgatory after purchasing a substantial plot of land and the other about a friend’s lost pet. By anchoring these themes in lived experience, he creates a special that feels tightly woven and immaculately layered even when it appears to wander. Nowhere does he lose the thread. At the same time, you can never really tell which joke is going to make a quick comeback only to disappear again—like Muhammad Ali in his prime.
What has always struck me about Gill’s comedy is his grasp over language. Even when he’s waxing poetic, nothing comes across as verbose. It’s a delight to see his synapses firing, making word associations that might seem obvious, but can only come with really obsessing over the mundane. And this special is probably the best depiction of this trait.
It is exemplified in his routine about wanting something, having it and eventually losing it. “Everything you get becomes ‘have’.” This endless cycle of wanting, having and losing becomes a study of the self. As soon as you get something you want, it loses its charm. And he drives this point home with one of the most profoundly cynical statements of the special—“Nobody ever “gets” a child. You “have” a child. So then, you are “have”. The feeling of “ugh” (visible disappointment), that’s what you are made of.”
The special is littered with these bits of logical thinking and transitive relation that Gill uses with almost mathematical precision to arrive at conclusions about life’s messiest questions. He has a knack for portraying his opinions as empirical evidence, and the final argument is almost incontestable.
But it’s his 20-minute “true story” closer about competing in the Tiramisu Making World Championship that truly shines, building to a crescendo so masterfully crafted it demands you get off your couch and give him a standing ovation in your living room. The space he creates—processing emotions in real time, consulting with his internal committee, landing on that signature beat, that photograph-worthy final image—all of it ties together with the kind of precision that only comes from years of writing, rewriting, and living inside the material on stage.
Perhaps the most reassuring thing about watching Gill’s evolution is that he no longer seems concerned with being relatable. He’s unafraid to experiment, and in the process, he’s found a voice that feels fully his. Gill has grown aware of his condition and isn’t afraid to ask, “What is this?” Like Sisyphus, he’s accepted his fate. And yet, as Camus reminds us, one must imagine Sisyphus happy.
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