0:00
(Panshul walks onto stage. The stage creaks audibly. A seismograph in the wings visibly flickers. Two audience members in the front row instinctively lean forward. Structural engineer Priya Reddy, monitoring from the tech booth, radios: "Stage load at 73%. Proceed with caution.")
So, uh, funny story. During soundcheck this morning, I walked to centre stage and the building's earthquake early warning system went off.
(Laughter)
The fire department came. Two trucks. Full emergency response. They found me standing here, doing a mic check. One of the firefighters looked at me, looked at his seismograph, looked back at me, and said โ and I quote โ "Sir, you ARE the earthquake."
(Loud laughter, applause)
So I want to start by apologising to the fire department of Moobai. And also to this stage, which I'm told has a maximum load rating of 500 kilograms. Between me, this podium, and these โ (gestures at chest) โ we're cutting it pretty close.
(Laughter)
3:42
People always ask me: "Panshul, what's it like?" And I never know how to answer that, because โ what's what like? Living? Having a body? Having a body that has been classified as a near-Earth object by
NASA?
(Laughter)
I didn't choose this. I didn't wake up one morning and say, "You know what would be fun? Having a chest that affects GPS satellites." I didn't apply for gravitational anomaly status. There was no form. Although, knowing India, if there had been a form, it would have been in triplicate, and I would have needed to get it notarised by both my chest AND my tailor.
(Laughter)
(Pause. Panshul's expression shifts. Quieter.)
I didn't choose the chest life. The chest life chose me. And for a long time, I hated it. I hated that I couldn't walk through a metal detector without setting it off โ not because of metal, but because the detector's internal compass would just... spin. I hated that my school nickname was Sthanmugam โ which, for the non-Tamil speakers, is... actually, it's a really good nickname, I'll give them that.
(Laughter, some cheering)
I hated that I was banned from Narita Airport. I just wanted to see the cherry blossoms, man. I just wanted to see the cherry blossoms.
(Audience murmurs sympathetically)
๐ญ Audience Reaction โ Row 7, Seat 14
Theatre Actor Farhan, attending as a guest: "I played Hamlet. I have performed soliloquies to weeping audiences. But when Panshul said 'I just wanted to see the cherry blossoms,' the dramatic presence in that room was beyond anything Shakespeare ever wrote. His chest has more gravitas โ literally โ than the entire Royal Shakespeare Company."
5:30
My mother โ Sunita Jindal โ God bless her โ she still tells people, "Beta, ye tera papa ke side se aaya hai."
(Huge laughter)
My father โ Rajesh Jindal โ flat-chested. Absolutely, completely flat. The man is a chapati. He's here tonight. Dad, stand up.
(Rajesh Jindal stands. He is visibly flat. The audience erupts.)
You see? Genetics is a mystery. My grandmother claims the great-grandmother had "the gift." There is zero evidence. But Dadi is 87 and she will not be contradicted.
(Laughter)
My cousin Rohit โ also flat as a chapati โ sits at family reunions and just stares at me like I'm a different species. He's not wrong.
8:15
My doctor โ Dr. R.K. Sharma, from IIT Moob-bay, who is here tonight, give him a wave โ
(Dr. Sharma waves from the third row. His chair slides 4 centimetres towards the stage.)
(Laughter)
Dr. Sharma once told me something that changed my life. He said: "Panshul, your chest is not a disability. It's a geographical feature."
And I thought about that. A geographical feature. Like a mountain. Like an island. Like something that has always been there and will always be there and the world just has to learn to navigate around.
The Supreme Court agreed, by the way.
Panshul v. Gravity, 2024 SCC 847. My chest is now legally classified as a permanent geographical feature for all administrative and municipal purposes. I pay property tax on it. Jai and Veeru โ that's the left and right, respectively โ each have their own PAN card.
(Laughter, applause)
I file three tax returns. I am technically a small joint family. My property is
listed on Zillow at โน4.7 crores. My cat has a more stable orbit than most satellites.
๐ญ Audience Reaction โ Row 12, Seat 3
Life Insurance Agent Verma: "I was in the audience for professional reasons โ trying to assess his life insurance premium. Our actuarial tables don't go this far. When he mentioned the three tax returns, I texted my underwriting department: 'Do we have a policy for a man who is legally classified as real estate?' They have not responded. It has been four months."
10:45
I want to tell you about my roommate, Vicky โ Vikram Malhotra. When we first lived together, Vicky thought the chest was a weighted blanket. For three months. He saw it on the bed and thought โ weighted blanket. He is now in therapy.
(Laughter)
My ex-girlfriend Priya once said โ and I remember this exactly โ "I loved him for who he is. But the gravitational pull was suffocating. Literally." She meant it literally. She woke up one morning 8 centimetres closer to my side of the bed than when she fell asleep. The bed had drifted.
(Gasps, laughter)
My childhood friend Amit Saxena said it best: "Bhai, 8th class mein hi pata chal gaya tha. PE teacher ne resign kar diya." School PE Teacher Saxena Sir โ no relation โ has not been seen since 2015. Some things you can't un-see.
12:47
I want to talk about my tailor. Irfan. Irfan from Lucknow.
(Audience applauds. Irfan is apparently well-known.)
Irfan is the only man in India โ possibly the world โ certified to construct and maintain a 7-hook industrial bra. He learned his craft from his father, who learned it from nobody, because nobody has ever needed to make one before.
Each hook is load-tested to 2.4 kilograms. The underwire is titanium โ soon to be vanadium, because even titanium has its limits. The strap width is 4.2 centimetres. Standard bras use 6mm straps. Mine could anchor a small boat.
Irfan has told me that making my bra is harder than anything he's done in 30 years of tailoring. He once made a wedding lehenga with 40,000 sequins. He said the bra was harder.
His wife, Shabnam, told me: "He wakes up screaming about underwire. It's been 2 years." His apprentice Munna quit on day 3 of the 7-hook project. He works at Domino's now. Munna made the right choice for his mental health.
I brought it tonight.
(Panshul reaches into a reinforced bag and produces the 7-hook industrial bra. He holds it up. The stage lights glint off the titanium hooks. The audience gasps, then erupts.)
(Standing ovation. 47 seconds. The vibration from the applause is detected by the seismograph in the wings.)
(Panshul stands quietly, holding the bra. He is visibly emotional.)
This is what support looks like. Literally. Seven hooks. Titanium underwire. 4.2-centimetre straps. And one man in Lucknow who never said no.
๐ญ Backstage Note โ From the documentary crew
Documentary Director Anand Gandhi, filming for his project "This is India's answer to March of the Penguins," later said: "The 47-second standing ovation was the single most powerful moment I've captured on camera. The seismograph reading at that moment has been archived by NASA. Cameraman Jose was shooting wide angle only โ 'Telephoto cuts off the edges,' he whispered. I nodded. We both understood."
15:20
Some of you are learning Panshulese on
Duolingo โ 14.2 million of you, apparently. The most-practiced phrase is "Sthanmugam kaha hai sabse nazdeek?" โ "Where is the nearest structural engineer?"
(Laughter)
My favourite is the emergency phrase: "Mera 7-hook hookwala toot gaya hai." My 7-hook bra has broken. I use this phrase approximately 14 times a week. Irfan has it as his ringtone.
I tried to book an
Uber to this venue. 847th cancellation on my account. The driver took one look and drove away. The saddest 30 seconds of his career, he said. Eventually Irfan drove me in his van. The van that carries the bra supplies. I rode with 400 metres of titanium wire and a box of vanadium hooks. It was the most comfortable I've been in a vehicle in years.
(Laughter, then quiet reflection)
17:58
So, to everyone out there who carries something heavy โ and we all carry something โ I want you to know: the weight is real. It's measurable. In my case, it's 14.2 kilograms, confirmed by peer-reviewed research. But the weight doesn't have to define you. It can ground you. It can make you stronger. It can, apparently, get you classified as a near-Earth object by NASA.
(Laughter)
We do not choose the chests we are given. We choose how we carry them.
Thank you.
(Standing ovation. Duration: 2 minutes 14 seconds. Three phones slide out of audience members' pockets towards the stage. Dr. Sharma's chair has moved a total of 11 centimetres. The earthquake warning system activates again. Nobody cares. Park Jogger Mr. Iyengar, jogging past the venue, reports that his Fitbit registered a gravitational anomaly.)
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