I am a man, and I am disgusted by Pranit More-Madhur Virli's 'jokes' about women
As a man, I find Pranit More and Madhur Virli's jokes deeply humiliating. They offend me, yes, but they normalise the violation of women and make every decent man carry the burden of rebuilding trust.
The casual mockery of a woman’s boundaries isn’t comedy, it’s a cultural step backwards that shames every man trying to do better.
Have you ever felt that quiet discomfort when a conversation among men suddenly reduces every interaction with a woman to one question: “How do I get her into bed?” That familiar unease hit me hard while watching the viral clip from Pranit More’s Gurugram stand-up show and following Madhur Virli's joke about a woman being raped. As a journalism student who has filed RTIs for gender sensitisation in high schools, criminalisation of marital rape, and legal recognition of LGBTQI+ marriages, I’ve spent years trying to understand women as complete human beings - their boundaries, their consent, their emotions.
Growing up surrounded by strong, independent women - my scientist mother, sisters, and aunts - has shaped me profoundly. Raised in a home where women exercised financial and social autonomy without apology, I learned early to value their dignity, agency, and voice. My mother didn’t just inspire me toward a successful career; she instilled in me the deeper responsibility of becoming a good human being who honours women’s autonomy in every sphere of life. That upbringing has made me feel naturally closer to respecting women’s emotional and physical boundaries. Which is why these incidents leave me feeling genuinely violated and ashamed.
These men on stage weren't sharing a funny mishap. One proudly described spending Rs 370 on biryani, then sliding his hand into a woman’s leggings despite her hesitation and recounted intimate physical details with zero remorse, while another joked about men raping women and murdering them later. In both the incidents, these 'comedians' were comfortable turning a woman's emotional and sexual agency into public entertainment.
In both the incidents, the men's remarks openly celebrated coercion as something clever, funny and manly.
The crowd roared in approval. While Pranit More called it “peak Gurgaon content” and rewarded him, Madhur Virli has repeatedly found an audience for similar jokes that normalise misogyny, sexual violence and rape-culture thinking. Without social media outrage, both these incidents would have been laughed off as banter. That easy acceptance reveals a deeply perverted mindset - one that reduces every cross-gender connection, whether a date or a friendly chat, to the constant possibility of sexual intimacy.
This isn’t just crude humour. It treats women’s bodies as commodities and persistence after refusal as something to celebrate. It mocks her right to say no and commodifies her dignity for cheap laughs. According to the latest NCRB data, India recorded over 4.41 lakh crimes against women in 2024, including nearly 30,000 rape cases. These numbers reflect the grim reality behind the jokes. Women have fought harassment, exploitation, discrimination, and trauma for years. Men like me - who read, listen, apologise when we slip, and actively work to respect boundaries - end up carrying the collective shame. We are forced to rebuild trust that gets shattered in moments like these.
And I cannot help but ask myself uncomfortable questions. If I were sitting in that audience, would the women in my life feel safe knowing I laughed? If my mother, who taught me to respect women, heard those cheers, what would she think? If my sisters were in that room, would they see humour, or would they see a crowd celebrating the erosion of their dignity?
As a man, what disgusts me most is not just what was said on stage. It is the ease with which it was said. The confidence. The certainty that a room full of people would laugh along. That confidence comes from somewhere. It comes from a culture that has repeatedly taught men that a woman's discomfort is negotiable, that her refusal is a challenge, and that her body is public property for discussion, judgement and conquest.
I find that deeply humiliating. Not as a commentator or a journalist. As a man. Because every time another man turns coercion into comedy, I feel as though the work of thousands of decent men gets pushed backwards. We spend years trying to learn and unlearn, to listen and improve, only for someone to walk onto a stage, reduce women to a joke for applause and social media clicks, and in the process reinforce the stereotype of "most men", if not "all men".
Both the issues have sparked a wider outrage over the normalisation of sexual violence in comedy. The pattern is clear and deeply troubling.
Pranit More and Himanshu Jangra have since issued apologies, calling it a lapse in judgement. Yet apologies, however late, do little to undo the damage. They cannot erase the mindset that got loud applause in the moment and only drew scrutiny after massive public backlash.
Think about the ripple effects. When such videos go viral, it’s not only the man’s family that feels the embarrassment. Every sister, mother, or daughter watching wonders about the male members in her own home. What kind of mindset are the surrounding men carrying - irrespective of age? Is that casual entitlement lurking at family dinners or friendly gatherings? It’s high time families collectively pause and reflect: where exactly is the thinking of our sons, brothers, husbands, and fathers heading? These conversations need to happen at home, not just on social media.
In co-ed colleges, offices, and everyday life, the same pattern persists. Pop culture has fed this for decades - songs and films that glorify hyper-sexualisation and show persistence as the path to "winning" a woman. Subtle messages tell boys that a friendly smile or a shared meal should naturally lead to sexual access. Without deeper sensitisation, this perverted lens keeps colouring how many men view relationships.
So where does this leave us? Celebrating the mistreatment of women can’t be entertainment. It pulls genuine progress backwards and makes the prospect of fresh starts feel exhausting. Men must call out this sense of entitlement within our own circles – not performatively, but honestly – because it undermines our own efforts and disrespects the women we care about. Comedy has power; it can challenge old attitudes or reinforce them. Glorifying transactional mindsets helps no one.
As a man, I am tired of being told this is just a joke. No, it is not. A joke reveals what a society is willing to laugh at. And when the laughter comes from violating a woman's boundaries, mocking consent, or trivialising rape, it tells us something deeply disturbing about the values being normalised in front of thousands of people. The problem is not that people are offended, it is that too many people are entertained.
There is nothing rebellious, edgy, or courageous about reducing women to bodies and consent to an inconvenience. It is lazy and regressive. Also, frankly, it is pathetic. A society cannot claim to be progressing while cheering for the public humiliation of women and then hiding behind the defence of comedy. If your joke depends on a woman losing her agency, then the joke is not on her. It is on us - men.
Real equality starts with addressing the root: the commodification of women’s bodies and emotional agency. It starts with families reflecting together, men holding each other accountable, and a culture that chooses respect over easy laughs. The question cannot be whether these comedians crossed a line. They did. The bigger question is why so many people were comfortable standing on the same side of that line with them. Until we confront that honestly, we are not merely witnessing comedy. We are witnessing the public normalisation of attitudes that women have spent generations fighting to escape.
The casual mockery of a woman’s boundaries isn’t comedy, it’s a cultural step backwards that shames every man trying to do better.
Have you ever felt that quiet discomfort when a conversation among men suddenly reduces every interaction with a woman to one question: “How do I get her into bed?” That familiar unease hit me hard while watching the viral clip from Pranit More’s Gurugram stand-up show and following Madhur Virli's joke about a woman being raped. As a journalism student who has filed RTIs for gender sensitisation in high schools, criminalisation of marital rape, and legal recognition of LGBTQI+ marriages, I’ve spent years trying to understand women as complete human beings - their boundaries, their consent, their emotions.
Growing up surrounded by strong, independent women - my scientist mother, sisters, and aunts - has shaped me profoundly. Raised in a home where women exercised financial and social autonomy without apology, I learned early to value their dignity, agency, and voice. My mother didn’t just inspire me toward a successful career; she instilled in me the deeper responsibility of becoming a good human being who honours women’s autonomy in every sphere of life. That upbringing has made me feel naturally closer to respecting women’s emotional and physical boundaries. Which is why these incidents leave me feeling genuinely violated and ashamed.
These men on stage weren't sharing a funny mishap. One proudly described spending Rs 370 on biryani, then sliding his hand into a woman’s leggings despite her hesitation and recounted intimate physical details with zero remorse, while another joked about men raping women and murdering them later. In both the incidents, these 'comedians' were comfortable turning a woman's emotional and sexual agency into public entertainment.
In both the incidents, the men's remarks openly celebrated coercion as something clever, funny and manly.
The crowd roared in approval. While Pranit More called it “peak Gurgaon content” and rewarded him, Madhur Virli has repeatedly found an audience for similar jokes that normalise misogyny, sexual violence and rape-culture thinking. Without social media outrage, both these incidents would have been laughed off as banter. That easy acceptance reveals a deeply perverted mindset - one that reduces every cross-gender connection, whether a date or a friendly chat, to the constant possibility of sexual intimacy.
This isn’t just crude humour. It treats women’s bodies as commodities and persistence after refusal as something to celebrate. It mocks her right to say no and commodifies her dignity for cheap laughs. According to the latest NCRB data, India recorded over 4.41 lakh crimes against women in 2024, including nearly 30,000 rape cases. These numbers reflect the grim reality behind the jokes. Women have fought harassment, exploitation, discrimination, and trauma for years. Men like me - who read, listen, apologise when we slip, and actively work to respect boundaries - end up carrying the collective shame. We are forced to rebuild trust that gets shattered in moments like these.
And I cannot help but ask myself uncomfortable questions. If I were sitting in that audience, would the women in my life feel safe knowing I laughed? If my mother, who taught me to respect women, heard those cheers, what would she think? If my sisters were in that room, would they see humour, or would they see a crowd celebrating the erosion of their dignity?
As a man, what disgusts me most is not just what was said on stage. It is the ease with which it was said. The confidence. The certainty that a room full of people would laugh along. That confidence comes from somewhere. It comes from a culture that has repeatedly taught men that a woman's discomfort is negotiable, that her refusal is a challenge, and that her body is public property for discussion, judgement and conquest.
I find that deeply humiliating. Not as a commentator or a journalist. As a man. Because every time another man turns coercion into comedy, I feel as though the work of thousands of decent men gets pushed backwards. We spend years trying to learn and unlearn, to listen and improve, only for someone to walk onto a stage, reduce women to a joke for applause and social media clicks, and in the process reinforce the stereotype of "most men", if not "all men".
Both the issues have sparked a wider outrage over the normalisation of sexual violence in comedy. The pattern is clear and deeply troubling.
Pranit More and Himanshu Jangra have since issued apologies, calling it a lapse in judgement. Yet apologies, however late, do little to undo the damage. They cannot erase the mindset that got loud applause in the moment and only drew scrutiny after massive public backlash.
Think about the ripple effects. When such videos go viral, it’s not only the man’s family that feels the embarrassment. Every sister, mother, or daughter watching wonders about the male members in her own home. What kind of mindset are the surrounding men carrying - irrespective of age? Is that casual entitlement lurking at family dinners or friendly gatherings? It’s high time families collectively pause and reflect: where exactly is the thinking of our sons, brothers, husbands, and fathers heading? These conversations need to happen at home, not just on social media.
In co-ed colleges, offices, and everyday life, the same pattern persists. Pop culture has fed this for decades - songs and films that glorify hyper-sexualisation and show persistence as the path to "winning" a woman. Subtle messages tell boys that a friendly smile or a shared meal should naturally lead to sexual access. Without deeper sensitisation, this perverted lens keeps colouring how many men view relationships.
So where does this leave us? Celebrating the mistreatment of women can’t be entertainment. It pulls genuine progress backwards and makes the prospect of fresh starts feel exhausting. Men must call out this sense of entitlement within our own circles – not performatively, but honestly – because it undermines our own efforts and disrespects the women we care about. Comedy has power; it can challenge old attitudes or reinforce them. Glorifying transactional mindsets helps no one.
As a man, I am tired of being told this is just a joke. No, it is not. A joke reveals what a society is willing to laugh at. And when the laughter comes from violating a woman's boundaries, mocking consent, or trivialising rape, it tells us something deeply disturbing about the values being normalised in front of thousands of people. The problem is not that people are offended, it is that too many people are entertained.
There is nothing rebellious, edgy, or courageous about reducing women to bodies and consent to an inconvenience. It is lazy and regressive. Also, frankly, it is pathetic. A society cannot claim to be progressing while cheering for the public humiliation of women and then hiding behind the defence of comedy. If your joke depends on a woman losing her agency, then the joke is not on her. It is on us - men.
Real equality starts with addressing the root: the commodification of women’s bodies and emotional agency. It starts with families reflecting together, men holding each other accountable, and a culture that chooses respect over easy laughs. The question cannot be whether these comedians crossed a line. They did. The bigger question is why so many people were comfortable standing on the same side of that line with them. Until we confront that honestly, we are not merely witnessing comedy. We are witnessing the public normalisation of attitudes that women have spent generations fighting to escape.
