← Back to the-jess-rowe-big-talk-show

Nazeem Hussain Theres Something Wrong With My Dna

Bringing happiness to other people and making them feel the way I feel when someone does

🎙️
Published about 2 months agoDuration: 1:06704 timestamps
704 timestamps
Bringing happiness to other people and making them feel the way I feel when someone does
that to me fulfills me too.
So that's a really nice thing that I take from my religion that serving others serves
yourself.
Hi, I'm Jess Rowe and this is the Jess Rowe Big Talk Show, a podcast that skips the small
talk and goes big and deep.
From love to loss and everything in between, I want to show you a different side of people
who seem to have it all together in these raw and honest conversations about the things
that matter.
I don't know about you, but in this time of social isolation, I really crave connected
conversations so I'm going to dig deep to give you a new window into the souls of the
people we're curious to get to know and understand.
There might be tears as well as laughter as we celebrate the real life flaws and vulnerabilities
that make us human.
Nazeem Hussain is one of the biggest stars of Australian comedy.
He does stand up, is on the telly and is a writer and activist.
Nazeem makes me laugh out loud.
I've watched all of the episodes of his TV shows Legally Brown and Orange is the New
Brown.
I wanted to talk to Nazeem about his Muslim faith and the gift he has for making you laugh
and challenging the assumptions you sometimes don't know that you make about people.
Nazeem, it is so cool to see you.
You make me laugh and you do.
That is my one job.
So I have no fallback plan.
Thank you.
Well, you've definitely worked your magic with me.
I used to love listening to you on the plane.
Your first TV series Legally Brown was on the plane and I would just binge watch it
any flight I could get.
Thank you.
That was a surreal thing because I remember when people used to watch the back of the
plane seats, that was actually the only form of entertainment you could have.
Like you couldn't look at your mobile phone.
And so I'd be on the plane looking at people, watch me and still be in economy, not be able
to point at my face and go, excuse me, can I go up a class or something?
I'm on the screens.
I could see people in business class watching me and I was like, oh man, I should be up
there.
It feels embarrassing.
But no, no, it was great.
Still really surreal that, I don't know, I feel like that series was quite a while ago,
2013, 2014, but now it's really starting to find a new audience online on TikTok and YouTube
again.
Yeah, I'm getting stopped on the street by, well not, well for me, children, they're like
teenagers going, hey, you're that TikTok guy, I love that sketch you just did.
And I was like, actually, I did that many, many years ago.
Please come over here.
Hello, I'm a race marshal and you need to come here, please.
What did we do, sir?
Please come here.
Yes, I'm a race marshal, which means I am marshalling the different races and you, you
and you will need to stay away and you can go enjoy yourselves with the other borgans.
Thank you very much.
Excuse me, people of colour, you may go and enjoy your life.
Because I think it's what you do in those sketches, it's universal themes and it doesn't
date because it challenges people to think about their prejudice, their bias, the way
that they lead their lives with blinkers on.
And you're able to lift those blinkers, but make us laugh at the same time.
I feel like some of those themes, or back in the day anyway we filmed them, I feel like
we're a little, I don't know, people weren't really talking about race and privilege and
power and all that sort of stuff like we are now.
So I think those themes are way more understood now.
And in a way, not to say that we were ahead of our time, but the series is right now feeling
very relevant now, which is good.
Yeah, I think it was challenging making and it still is doing comedy about stuff that
is real, but when it works, it feels really good.
When it doesn't work, that's a separate podcast.
But that's, it can feel really bad.
Well, I want to talk about that with you in a minute when it does feel really bad.
But first of all, when it feels good and how was it?
I mean, yes, you were ahead of your time.
What gave you that sense of fearlessness to do pranks and put yourself in situations where
you're going up to complete strangers, blowing a whistle, pretending to be an official?
I love that whistle.
I'd like that whistle.
Where do you get that fearlessness from?
Oh, I honestly don't.
There's something wrong with my DNA.
I don't know.
There's something broken in my brain.
I've always just enjoyed making my friends laugh.
I've always been a bit of a like the guy in the group that's, you know, they're like,
oh, okay, Nazeem will do it, Nazeem will do it.
I remember, you know, annoying the person at the Maccas driving or being someone that
would, you know, play a prank on the teacher so the kids would laugh.
Like I was always someone that did what you're not supposed to do.
And I got a real thrill out of that.
Also, you know, my mum's someone that just says it how it is.
She doesn't know how to not do that.
And I've got, I feel like I've got the same trait.
I don't know how to do passive aggressive.
I don't know how to be subtle.
So if there's something that's on my chest, I just have to get it off my chest.
And for me, as you've probably seen from the material, it's just stuff that I guess for,
well, for me, as a brown Muslim guy in Australia, these issues aren't impersonal.
They definitely, you know, come from a visceral place.
So stuff that pisses me off is normally the easiest stuff for me to joke about.
I feel like it's a great way to channel that rage through comedy.
And it is because I would imagine it's empowering to be able to do that, to turn the
mirror back on us all and make us question inbuilt prejudices or biases that in fact,
I wouldn't realise that I necessarily have.
I always find that interesting when people say that, because for me, my intention is
not like to have white people understand racism.
For me, it's just for me to be able to laugh at something that normally pisses me off,
for people who share that experience to feel like we can almost like own it and take
the sting out of it. And also just to laugh about something so absurd.
Have you ever had racist thoughts towards an Indian?
No, definitely not.
Can you prove that you have never had racist thoughts towards an Indian?
How do I prove it?
So you can't prove that you had never had any racist thoughts towards an Indian?
I like a new human.
What is your favourite Bollywood movie?
I've never seen one.
OK, that's a cross.
Can I just get my taxi and go home?
I just finished work, please.
Do you mind if we just do a quick breathalyzer test with you?
Thank you.
OK, I support taxi drivers not getting attacked.
OK, I'm actually sensing some level of racism here with this.
Yes, you have been deemed a medium level racist.
Yeah, it's almost cathartic for people who share these experiences of being othered
to just be able to go, haha, now we're laughing at you.
It's being able to laugh at the bully together.
And if the bully happens to understand, not to say that white people are the bully,
but if like people who are on the other end of that equation understand, well,
that's like an almost an added bonus.
But it's never really my intention to educate.
It's more just like, let's flip the power dynamic here and and laugh about it as
opposed to just crying about it, because that's the alternative.
If I don't laugh about it, I'm just going to be by myself just in a rage ball
in the corner of my room, just just pacing around.
But the thing is, you don't laugh about it yourself.
And I was really interested to read how you began doing, I suppose, stand up
when you were doing trivia nights at the mosque.
So you kind of had this you weren't laughing on your own.
You suddenly had this almost, I suppose, brotherhood
and perhaps sisterhood of people laughing with you because they were in the same
situation. I grew up post 9 11.
I can't believe it's already been like nearly 22 years since 9 11.
When as a Muslim, before 9 11, you know, I was definitely connected to the Muslim
community because we had a shared faith.
And, you know, I'd go to I grew up going to the mosque and study groups and Sunday
school and all that sort of stuff.
And I was connected to the Sri Lankan Muslim community as well in the Sri Lankan
community broadly. But after 9 11, as Muslims in Australia, we all very much
kind of came together through this grief of seeing people who were Muslim commit
some horrible atrocities overseas, seeing the West go to these countries, Iraq,
Afghanistan, and, you know, engage in a war on terror and then seeing Muslims in
Australia and the West then become victims of hate crimes and having to also
explain what it means to be Muslim, what it means to believe in this religion.
We were seen as a threat in our own countries.
All I know is life in Australia.
I've grown up here, was born here.
Yes, I have insights into Sri Lankan culture and Muslim culture broadly.
But, you know, I learned that all from living in Australia.
So when I did comedy in the community at mosques and at community events, it was
basically just, again, talking about experiences of people saying racist stuff
to me or about us or or just life as a Muslim or as an ethnic person in Australia.
I guess growing up, I couldn't relate to comedy on television directly.
Like, I understood the jokes.
I loved Australian comedy growing up.
I was addicted to all the Australian comedy shows.
But the stories were never about our experiences.
So being able to sort of do that in the community felt really special.
Joking about our specific stories and lives and, oh, you know, when your mum comes
home from the mosque and she blah, blah, blah, you know, just stuff that only we get.
You know, that's kind of how I started doing comedy, just joking about those
sorts of things, kind of taking back the mic almost.
Like the only times you ever saw Muslims on television were when we were on the news
in sound bites, yelling or something like it was never just normal people being
relaxed and talking about normal life.
So I guess that's kind of, in a way, the origin story of me doing stand up.
Which but and I think that is so powerful and I love it that it's through laughter
because laughter, to me, laughter is a superpower.
I love laughing because it can diffuse so much and it's also a way of kind of uniting
people and feeling together.
And to me, it's like the ultimate up yours to be able to laugh your bullies or your
enemies in the face because it's kind of like I'm not giving you any of that over me.
Absolutely.
And even in primary school, there were moments when I, I don't even like saying I got bullied.
There were moments when I could have become someone that was bullied, but because I have
a quick tongue and my personality is that I like an audience, so if there's people there,
I'll make them laugh.
And so the bullies could never really get away with bullying me properly because they'd
become the butt of the joke and then they would be ganged up on because I would make
everybody else laugh and sometimes them.
So it was a sort of evaded bullying.
But yeah, definitely like you can't, you can't really be angry at someone when they're
making you laugh.
It takes the heat out of everything.
I also feel like it's a really good way to know whether someone's listening to you.
Like if they're laughing along, they're understanding what you're saying.
Like even if you don't agree with my perspective, if you're laughing, you're at least acknowledging
the point I'm making because the laughter is sort of like, yeah, it's an acknowledgement.
Like it's involuntary unless it's a fake laugh, but it's like an acknowledgement of the point.
Well, you're present, aren't you?
You're actually in that moment with that person.
And more and more, I think in the world, we crave those moments of presence.
Especially like with social media and Twitter, everyone's broadcasting and just saying what
they think.
We're speaking at cross purposes.
Whereas comedy, yes, it's a guy or a girl or someone on stage speaking, but the acknowledgement
has to come back from the audience.
Otherwise, it just doesn't work.
Otherwise, it's just speech.
So it is a conversation and you need to be connecting with people.
Otherwise, it's a bad gig.
You've mentioned your mum and what I love about your mum is that you've referred to
her as being pretty gangster.
And even though you said you didn't see yourself as being bullied, but there were times when
your mum would step in.
Tell me that story when you went to the bus stop and then suddenly these bullies disappeared.
What happened there?
I don't even remember exactly what they were doing to bully me.
I think I accidentally blurted it out at home that someone was doing something.
And then my mum quickly interrogated and said, what, what?
And figured out that I was getting bullied.
I was like, just don't worry about it.
Anyway, she didn't not worry about it.
She worried about it.
The next day or the day after I went to school and the bullying stopped happening.
I didn't know why.
I couldn't figure it out.
The bullies started being really nice to me.
They started like, I don't know, trying to include me in things.
And it was very weird.
Until a week later, end of the week, Friday after school, school had finished, bell had
rung, walking towards the school gate.
And I see my mum standing there at the gate with a bunch of bullies from the year level
above me.
And they were all holding bags of chocolates and lollies in their hands.
She had literally bribed that group of bullies to keep this other group of bullies off my
back.
That's how my mum parented.
And I'm very tempted to adopt that same style.
But I adore that because when I think about my daughters and how fierce I am in my protection
of them, I would go to that link too.
Of course.
I remember this was when they were much smaller.
I stole another child's pass the parcel prize because my daughter was so upset she didn't
win pass the parcel.
And I actually stole this prize from this four year old.
And that's bad.
You know what?
It's bad when you tell other people.
But like, you know, your daughter was happy, which is the primary aim of being a parent.
Make your kid happy.
What was it actually?
Was it like a, was it a good prize?
I can't even remember what the actual prize was.
But it stopped my daughter having a conniption.
And I was just like, oh my God, I cannot deal with any more of this crying.
So I stole this other child's present.
Well, you're a gangster.
You're a gangster.
I'm going to wear that as a badge of honour.
You know, your mum, she was a single mum.
She raised yourself and your two sisters.
So she's a strong woman, isn't she?
She's a strong woman.
And her and her sisters, none of them finished school.
I mean, Sri Lanka just sort of, they weren't poor and very middle class.
And my aunties often boast about how my mum got to stay in school longer than the others.
But she was, you know, someone that made her way very much on her own.
My dad and my mum met very briefly.
It was an arranged marriage, which has stigma around it.
It's not a forced marriage.
They met, they liked each other.
They were like, yep, let's do it.
Within a couple of meetings, you know, with their families there.
And then they said, yeah, we like each other.
So they got married.
My dad had studied in England.
So he'd spent a lot of time there in the West.
You know, he's a very independent guy.
He understands, you know, he's lived overseas.
My mum had never left Sri Lanka.
And then they both moved to Australia.
And yeah, they lived in Australia, made a life for themselves here.
You know, my dad opened up a printing press.
He worked for Social Security.
My mum got a job at Telstra as like a bookkeeper.
My mum then split.
They got divorced and my dad moved back to Sri Lanka.
And then my mum, from the age from when I was six till, you know, I moved out at 27,
just raised a single-handedly in a country, you know, where everything was very foreign.
Many things were foreign.
Copping all sorts of, you know, prejudice, this, that, and the other.
Trying to make ends meet.
Working several jobs.
You know, trying to put us through good schools and not just help us survive
and get through school, but excel.
Objectively, I did very well at school.
And I studied law and science.
My younger sister, you know, she's a partner at Morris Blackburn, the youngest partner ever.
My older sister is, you know, is very successful at her work as well.
She's got a family of kids.
They live in a nice area.
Like from a single mum from another country, lots of debt when my parents split.
She, you know, she did an exceptional job.
So yeah, I credit a lot of, it's kind of like one of these things, you know, when you get,
when you get successful in anything, when you're older, success matters to me.
When I know that like my mum is proud or that I can credit her just because she's, you know,
we're almost like the fruits of her labour.
But we are, definitely.
She sacrifices everything so that we could do what we do.
So yeah.
And she must be so proud.
She's been along to a number of your shows, hasn't she?
Oh, she goes to all of them.
In fact, it's impossible to stop her.
You know, at the Melbourne Comedy Festival, for example, I did 22 shows in a row.
She will come to perhaps 18 of them.
And, you know, I will tell her to come on a particular night, but she'll be there.
She'll try to hide.
But you can see her bright pink hijab and Shalva are coming.
Like she can't, you can't not miss it.
You can't, she's always there.
And then I'll acknowledge her.
She'll stand up and bow to the audience.
One time I was, you know, the shows had sold out.
Not a boast.
It was just the fact.
And I'd left the show one night.
I see my mum walking around and I was like, mum.
And then she suddenly hid some stuff behind her back.
I was like, what are you, what are you doing?
What's that?
And she had printed off her own flyers that she'd made.
And she was sticking them around the town hall.
And then all these other Melbourne Comedy Festival stuff were like, oh, your mum's awesome.
Yeah, we're telling her that we've already stuck up posters.
And my mum's like, there's not enough posters.
I can't see my son's face on this wall.
And she was sticking them up.
When I was on I'm A Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here, I made it to the grand final.
And I think it's probably because of my mum.
Again, when I was in there, I had no idea until I came out.
She made, again, her own flyers saying, vote for my son, Nazeemon.
I'm A Celebrity Get Me Out.
And she went to McDonald's and Hungry Jacks and was handing them out to random people,
telling random people to vote for me.
I adore her.
She doesn't stop.
And she is a force of nature, isn't she?
Absolutely.
She's very strong-willed.
And yeah, she cares a lot.
She's one of these people.
I think when you go through tough times, you never lose that sort of
hustler personality.
So yeah, no is not something she accepts very easily.
She doesn't like being told she can't do something.
She'll always figure out a way.
When we grew up and we were having it tough, my mum spent a lot of time with other single mums,
people from church groups, Salvation Army, people that were very community-minded.
But my mum, even though we were broke at a particular period of time, she spent a lot of time.
We would go weekly to nursing homes and hang out with very old people
just to keep them company, so that we would have an appreciation for what we have
when we would see people who were lonely.
And she always had a priority, or she has a priority in order.
And yeah, she's never really lost that.
So that sort of community-mindedness definitely came from my mum's sort of insistence on
regularly giving back, even when we don't have much to give.
And do you think in a way, with the comedy that you do,
you've inherited that from your mum and you do it in your comedy?
Well, I definitely feel like with my comedy, I can't not say everything that's on my brain.
So, you know, the stage just gives me an opportunity to say everything.
If I'm in a room and my mum's in the room, and even my younger sister, I'm the unfunny one.
People always say, why are you the comedian in the family?
Like, your younger sister should be.
My older sister's funny, but she's probably a bit more like motherly.
And my mum, she's just like, if she's in the room, you know, no one else is getting a word in.
That to me is the idea of heaven, to be with someone who lifts your spirits,
who makes you laugh and makes you feel good.
And also what I think I admire enormously about her is that she brought you up at a time
when divorce, being a single parent, was frowned upon within your local community in Melbourne.
Yeah, definitely within like the Muslim community,
probably more the Sri Lankan community and also the Sri Lankan Muslim community.
But I think broadly in Australia, like divorce, single mum, single parents,
it was the exception.
You definitely felt like that was not a normal experience.
I remember very early on, I think I tried to hide that fact from my classmates.
You know, I referring to my dad, like he was at home, which you know, he wasn't,
and just feeling like a shame because it was just very normal.
Kids have both their parents or it was very exceptional to have come from a broken home.
Whereas, you know, times have obviously changed.
She's since remarried and, you know, my mum and stepdad just work so well together.
My stepdad has the opposite personality.
You can be like, literally, you can sometimes forget he's in the room.
I remember one time we were filming something and my mum and stepdad were just supposed to be there
as kind of, you know, as guests for this dinner.
And my mum had walked in and the entire production crew were like,
okay, great, got the shot.
And then someone was like, oh, what about Nazeem's stepdad?
And he was just standing there quietly, just waiting for someone to talk.
Like, oh yeah, we forgot about him.
But he's so quiet.
Well, he's got an inner strength and inner peace and all of that.
Yeah, he makes her happy and she makes him happy.
And it's, you know, it's very protective when she was like,
I want to marry this man years ago.
And I was like, who is he?
What does he want?
And, you know, he's much, who am I to tell them, you know, but I was like,
this guy's got to be special.
And I was so annoyed when he turned out to be a good guy because I was like,
damn it, now they've got to get married.
But she is happy.
She's happy.
Now I want to talk about something very sad that happened to you with your dad passing
during COVID.
I can't begin to imagine what that must have been like with him in another part of the world as well.
My dad passed last year in August from COVID.
And yeah, it was, I remember I was at the project actually.
And I think I was finishing the show, like just the last 20 minutes.
And I got a text from one of his friends, from an uncle, we call him uncle, he's older.
And he said, just letting you know your dad's a bit unwell and I'll keep you updated.
And I was trying to keep abreast of what, I was like, oh, what do you mean?
And he said, oh, well, the ambulance is arriving.
And then so then the show had finished.
And then I went to the car and I tried to call him.
And it was sort of like unraveling throughout the night.
As I still had makeup on my face from the project.
I remember it was quite a surreal experience.
And then he said, oh no, he's tested positive to antigen.
And it was all a bit vague.
And then I called and it was like WhatsApp.
And so it was just, it was cutting in and out.
And it happened, I think, you know, from that point till when he finally passed,
it was about, it was just under 30 hours, I think, you know, as many of us know,
when it comes to grief, like it's a weird process.
It doesn't feel real, especially not having been able to be there.
And, you know, like I've discussed with you on this podcast already,
my parents split when I was six, but that doesn't really mean the connection
between father and son is also severed.
You know, every child wants their dad.
We were in contact in the last, well,
sort of been in contact the entire time, but the last maybe 10, 15 years,
we've kind of grown close.
I've visited him on many occasions when I've gone to Sri Lanka.
We've kept in contact pretty regularly.
It was almost feeling like this, you know, like the years of absence were being
compensated for.
And then as life does, it throws you this curve ball.
And I guess one of the things I'm most pleased with is being able to,
for both of us, my dad and I and my sisters, and to be able to almost like very actively
put the past behind us and try to make up, well, not even make up a lost time,
but just resume a relationship because when parents split and, you know,
I don't think it's as usual now for dads to become estranged.
Co-parenting is more regular.
But, you know, it's very easy to sort of almost try to punish your parent for what they did.
But my philosophy was that that's just wasted time.
You know, what is the benefit of that?
For me, anyway, being self-interested, I didn't feel it was a benefit in doing that.
So what I'm most happy with is that our relationship from when we got back in contact,
we just sort of, we just tried to, I guess, yeah, make up for lost time without really dwelling too
much on the years where he is away. Which I think is a very sort of selfless,
but also wise thing to do in the sense that sometimes things are never perfect.
Relationships are never perfect. And you have to kind of work out,
if I want to have a relationship with this person, I have to put aside all this pain.
I would often actually ask myself, I'd say, if my dad passed, would I have major regret for
not reaching out and trying to maintain a relationship for my sake, for my kid's sake,
for his sake, for, you know, my responsibility as a Muslim to his dad, as a son to his father?
And, yeah, the answer for me was that, yes, I probably, I would have regret,
or I'm scared of the regret and the guilt and the added grief I would feel if I didn't try my best.
At least if I try, I've done everything I can. So I'm always just worried about future pain.
And so I just didn't want to feel regret on top of just usual grief and the estrangement,
all that sort of stuff. So that was one of the reasons why, you know, I maintained it.
Well, I tried as hard as I could to have a good relationship with him. And I think my dad came
from the same place. Like there's sort of guilt for living away and not making things right.
You know, it's hard to know his side of the story, but there's sort of, it's fruitless to just
almost not try your best to establish a relationship. Maybe you talk about what
happened, maybe you don't, but the relationship should exist regardless. And if there's a good
enough relationship, you can talk about whatever, if it's important to either party, you know.
I guess it's also this thing in Islam where we are sort of told to constantly consider death,
to just realize that life is limited and that we all end up in the earth. And, you know, when
someone dies, people at the funeral are all encouraged to even take a handful of sand or
dirt and put it on the person who's buried, just that you know that one day you'll be in there as
well. So, you know, I am constantly reminded of death when I think about people close to me,
because I think it encourages you to appreciate the moments you have, to make things right,
to ask for forgiveness, to be a bit more introspective. And I think that's quite
an extraordinary way to think about living. Often I think in Western culture, we don't think enough
about death. We're frightened to talk about it. We're frightened to confront it. And because we
do that, we live a life half-lived because we're fearful. Whereas if I think there's that sense of
we're all going to die, this is what actually happens, you've got to make every moment count.
And it's scary. It was hard when my dad passed, even now. I'm not very good at holding back,
but I am, you know, like it does feel like it's just under the surface, like a, you know,
a dam of emotions. But thinking about people who I've spent more time with,
thinking about my mum and sisters and death, that's too difficult to think about. But it's,
you know, it is true. Death gets us all and we don't really know when it happens. We all like
to think, you know, after we get our super, we've got a couple of decades to live it out. But you
just never know, especially with COVID and just every, I think COVID just reminded us of just how
close death can be. And thank you for talking so openly in that way. I'm relieved that you feel
that you were able to have that connection with your dad before he did pass, that that must give
you some sense of solace. Is that the right word? Yeah, definitely. I think it's something, and I've
had conversations with other friends whose dads may have been out of the picture for a long time
where they've got fractured relationships with dad or mum or someone significant in their life,
to just think of yourself and how you might feel if something was to happen to them. That sounds
like a weird threat, but it also does help you, you know, distill what you should do right now.
And maybe the answer is to just reconnect for your own sake. And who knows, maybe you might
actually like them and it might be a nice relationship. Yes, yes. There could be something.
There might not be, but at least- There might not be. Just regret proof yourself as much as you can.
I like it. I love that approach. And you're a dad now?
I'm a dad, yeah. About to be a dad of two. Oh my goodness.
Yeah, being a dad's amazing. It's everything, all the memes say it is, all the cliches. You
find out parts of your personality you didn't know exist. I'm like you, you know,
I would steal another kid's pasta parcel toy from my kid.
And your mom, you'd get the lollies, bribe the bullies.
Totally would. But yeah, my kid is very funny. Again, to go back to my dad, I feel like I'm
parenting by what I missed out on. So now I'm very, very present. I'm very tactile. He's never going
to be out of my sight, that kid. And isn't he a lucky boy? So is he what, four now, your son?
Turning four, yeah. Turning four in April. And when is your next little one due?
Within a couple of months. That's so exciting.
Very exciting. So she will, it's a girl. Yeah, can't wait. You know, here we go again.
And in terms of your partner, you separated from?
Yeah, and remarried.
The same woman or a different woman?
Me and my first wife, we separated in 2018. And then a year ago, me and my wife got married.
And our baby is due on our one year anniversary.
Oh my goodness. Don't do the maths.
Not wasting time.
Not wasting time.
No way.
Welcome to Muslim culture. We think about death every day. So we're like, why not?
Let's do it. So talk to me about, in terms of Muslim culture, being divorced and remarried.
Divorce is again, in Islam, something that is completely halal. It's encouraging if things
aren't working. And, you know, me and our son's mum, we co-parent and it's a good relationship.
We won the best for him. We, you know, we just didn't work out as husband and wife.
There's, I think the confusion is often around culture versus the religion. Often in places
where you, you know, again, the stigma around divorce when my mum was raising us in Australia
was to do with the cult, you know, cultural stigma around divorce. Whereas religiously,
divorce is actually something in Islam that is encouraged. There is like a mercy
for people who are in bad relationships to exit them. So religiously, yeah, there's no problem.
It's just like, yeah, thankfully Sri Lankan cult, my wife is Lebanese, like our families are
completely just modern and they don't have those problems. So it wasn't really a problem for us.
Do you ever get tired of feeling like the spokesperson for Muslim culture or Islam and
South Asia? Do you often think, why do I have to explain this to everyone?
Every Muslim feels that way. Every non-white person with any platform feels that way
because there's just so few of us in the public domain and it's exhausting, especially because I
don't really know Jack. And so people just ask these questions. I'm like, oh, here's the answer.
I think this is my perspective, but for the audience, you know, I might be the only person
I've heard from, from the Muslim community. So I always tell people, I don't want to be a role
model. I'm not a spokesperson because I don't know anything, but you know, you just get shoved into
that position. Kids growing up Muslim in Australia, same deal. I guess like being gay or
indigenous, like it's probably the same thing until it's sort of normalized in pop culture,
you know, in parliament, in all of public life. The very few select individuals that have any
prominence are taken to be spokespeople. And when they make mistakes, it's like, oh, it's a huge fall
from grace. You know, we'll eat Ali, just consider him. That guy is exceptional. Like he's never
taken a step wrong, but you know, if he does, oh my God, you know, people are going to be like,
I knew it, see, look at, you know, Muslims this. So it's sort of, whereas imagine if any random
white guy on TV said anything dumb. It happens all the time, but people are just like, oh,
Michael's an idiot or Kyle can't believe he said that again, whatever. But it's not taken to me
every white person. And it's not fair. It's not fair because it's too much responsibility. It's
too loaded. And we're all entitled to have many different opinions, regardless of our background
or where we're from. I think just get to know more people. Yeah, that's right. And be open and
listen. And with Walid, he's a good mate of yours, isn't he? Oh, he's one of my best friends. He's
definitely my top two. And he's someone who, you know, he's the smartest guy I've ever met.
And I'm kind of jealous that everybody else gets to know him too, because I'm like, oh,
don't share my guy. He's mine. He's my brother. He's my bro. Again, like I've known for ages and,
you know, I used to, we used to talk for hours and hours. I just remember even when I used to
live at home with my mum, I used to just be on the phone to him till like 2 a.m. sometimes just
talking about stuff. And conversations are never substance-less with him. He's a big thinker.
Well, he's a walking encyclopedia, I think. He's a walking encyclopedia.
Whether it's politics or sports or pop culture, whatever, he's sort of got this extraordinary
theory around it. Something that made me angry on your behalf was how people confuse or have
confused the two of you. I mean, there was a TV guide that-
I know, it happens all the time.
It's like, but that is outrageous.
I'm just going to put my hand up. I have confused white women a lot.
But I don't know, like, I think I get it. In people's brains, they're like,
oh, brown Muslim man. And so there's only two names in that box. So they kind of reach for
whatever one. They just put their hand in and they pull out Naseem or Walid. I'm always flattered
because it's Walid. You know, being confused for one of the smartest people is an honour.
But I don't know how he feels when someone's like, hey, I really like that joke you made about your
mum. And the whistle, blowing the whistle of people and the clipboard.
Oh, this is hilarious. I went to- I was hosting the TikTok live event in Sydney.
It was a full-on event. They had like maybe a thousand people in the crowd and some big
stars were there. Anyway, I was backstage. I got a DM on Instagram from some guy who just said,
hey Naseem, I've just been let backstage into your dressing room because the security just-
basically some guy had walked as an audience member, you know, to come into the event.
And then they said, oh, right this way. And then they just took this guy,
passed all the levels of security backstage into my dressing room because they thought he was me.
He looks nothing like me. I'll send you the photo. Like it happens all the time. I don't understand.
Oh my goodness.
So yeah, if you want to get backstage into a show of mine, just be any shade upwards of white
and you'll get a free ticket. I'm here to perform.
I'm laughing. But then I think, should I laugh at that or not?
I find it funny. It's almost like a- it's just a reality now. It's funny more than it is like a
huge grave act of racism. This is sort of unconscious stuff that people don't intend,
but it is symptomatic of how few of us- but also mathematically it doesn't make any sense. If
there's only two of us, surely you should be able to know our names and faces. You've only got to
learn two of us. Whereas there's like hundreds of everybody else. I don't know. Look, I don't
understand it, but I find it funny. And it's great to play on. We actually did a sketch on Legally
Brown where I pretended to be a bunch of non-white celebrities and took photos and autographs with
people. And most of the time people didn't really think twice when I was pretending to be Will.i.am
or Sachin Tenduka. Autographs. Get your autographs with the great Sachin Tenduka.
Hello. Hello. Hi. What should I make it up to? Do you like watching me play?
Yeah, you're good. Yeah, you're very good. You're over, aren't you?
No, no. I'm one of the greatest batsmen in the world.
Oh, sorry.
You know who I am, right?
Yeah, I know who you are. My husband is going to have a heart attack.
It looks more like me when I take my glasses off.
Yeah, you look a lot younger actually in person.
I was in Avenging Sydney and people were coming up taking photos. I was Jacob from Twilight.
And there's a big photo of the actual celeb just next to me. So it's a phenomenon.
There it is again. You're using laughter to be subversive and twist things around.
It's sensational.
I mean, if you can't profit from this, what's the point?
Yeah. What I want to ask you about, and I admire enormously, I struggle with faith myself.
I struggle with religion. I believe in some higher good, some higher force.
So when you talk about being a Muslim and your faith, what does that mean for you?
For me, it gives me like great comfort. Muslim faith is kind of part of my culture now,
like doing Muslim things gives me a sense of community and belonging.
But also I feel like it just helps me stay centered and remember things that are more
important than my day to day. You know, the ritual parts of faith are often very helpful.
So, you know, for Muslims, we have to pray five times a day.
Those are five times of the day where you have to stop what you're doing
and kind of almost meditate or think about things bigger than you.
That you are a small person in a large universe and there's a lot to be thankful for and a lot
that you can do to improve. And then you go on with your day and then you have to stop again to
pray. Fasting, I think for me, that helps me appreciate what I have and think about people
that have less, like we're encouraged to give charity. So I think religion, and in all religions,
these are sorts of things that happen. You know, people are encouraged to be charitable
and think of community and put others before yourself. So sometimes for me, that structure,
even if you're just a self-centered person, that structure, if you are a religious person,
it makes you do things that are better than you are. And, you know, if you are what you do,
well then I think in many circumstances, religion makes you a better person.
But people find that in everything. You know, you don't need to be religious
to do good things and be a good person. But for me, I find it helpful and I do believe
within my heart that there is something, that there is a God and a creator and we all need to
be good humans to each other. But, you know, that's not for everybody.
But I love that it's for you and that you talk about it. And in a way, I envy that.
I find it hard to grapple with some sort of higher force or that there are other things happening.
So do people of faith. It's not something that you're just like completely certain about
at all times. It's not linear and yeah, you're constantly questioning and
it's a constant search and a constant question. I don't like blind following and I don't think
that's good for anything, for anybody. Atheist, religious, agnostic, whatever. I think you should
always be questioning. And within the Islamic tradition anyway, that culture of questioning
and probing, interrogating those who know and just kind of always the stories of like many
scholars going away, really trying to find themselves, finding themselves helps them find
God, et cetera, et cetera. It's all very much part and parcel of being a religious person
to have that questioning nature, to look within, understand, you know, your personality.
We can go into this a lot, but there's lots of different aspects of religious life that I think
people just don't really know or think about. I guess when, especially as a comedian,
other comedians will talk about religion in very simplistic terms. Oh, the man in the sky,
all that sort of stuff, which is funny, but it's also just not very, I don't think that's
representative of how religious people normally think of their relationship with God or
religion or faith and also their relationship with people that aren't of faith.
Like I don't walk around like thinking people who don't believe in God are any less or anything.
It's fascinating because is there something that for you is the best thing about your faith or the
most beautiful thing? Is there something that makes you feel complete? I really like the idea
of community and wishing for others what you wish for yourself. You know deep down what you like and
what makes you happy, but we're instructed to think of others in the same way and none of you truly
believe until you believe that. So that for me is like a guiding principle to, again, to be a good
Muslim, being self-interested. I would like to, you know, do the right thing as a Muslim. So
bringing happiness to other people and making them feel the way I feel when someone does that to me
fulfills me too. So that's a really nice thing that I take from my religion, that I'm serving others,
serves yourself. And that is what you do with your life and your career, don't you? We haven't talked
about my day-to-day fare evading, you know, sneaking backstage to gigs. Being an impostor.
Exactly, being an impostor. I'm a guy who shouldn't be audited.
But seriously, you do that in your life. I also make a lot of fun of people on stage. Look,
these are the ideas, but then the reality of Nazeem is very different. I'm not that guy that we've
just been talking about ideas. I don't want this podcast to come out like I'm some holy guy. I'm
a clown. I am a clown. But you can be a clown and a holy guy. Is there anything that you would not
find funny that you say is off limits in comedy? I don't know where I stand on this question
anymore. Like I just think if it's funny, you should be able to just say it. If it's funny,
it's got to be funny. So the pricklier the subject matter, the funnier you've got to be. But I just,
I'm sort of a little bit off the idea that comedians should be unable to joke about everything.
I was talking to another artist, a musician, and he was basically saying, yeah, it's kind of like
you need all your, you need all the paint brushes and all the paint there to be able to make your
art. And then, you know, to sort of say, no, you can't use blue. Limits you from the start.
But I don't know. I feel like, yes, the audience will be able to tell where your heart's at.
If you're talking about a horrible topic, well, your target better be correct. Because if you're
making fun of someone that is ordinarily humiliated, you know, I don't know if people
are going to find that good or funny. So, you know, it's up to you as the artist or as a performer
to figure out what you should joke about. But I tend to try to joke about things
that have the right target. So I'm not going to make fun of poor people necessarily or,
you know, or women or gay people, because why? Like, why do they need to be the butt of the joke?
So you're about laughing at the tall poppies, really? Yeah. Or pulling them down a bit.
Yeah, kind of. Yeah, I guess, yeah, I think that's always fun. You know, I think it's
fun for the audience. I think it's just whatever's fun and funny, I'll do. And that tends to be
when you make fun of people that are normally up there, that are higher up on the social chain
than you are. That's always fun. It's kind of the point of comedy. You're a clown, make fun of people
that you're not normally allowed to make fun of. You are incredible. You are. No, you are. And I'm
so grateful for all of the time that you've given us and how you've opened yourself up in lots of
different ways. Because I think there's so much to you. And I have loved having the luxury of this
time to talk to you about so many different things. Thank you very much, Jess. And you make
me think. And that's what I think is really. No, you do. But in a good way. Thank you. Thank you, Jess.
Oh, there is so much about Nazeem that I just want to talk to more about. And you know what?
I'd love to have a whistle with him and stand next to him with a clipboard and do some crazy
comedy. Now, Nazeem is returning to stand up stages around the country this year with a brand
new show, Hussain That. For complete tour and ticketing details, visit LiveNation.com.au.
And for more beautiful, big conversations like this, search the Jessrow Big Talk Show Podcast.
And you know what? While you're there, I would love you to follow and to add me to your favourites.
I mean, surely I'm a favourite already, but if I'm not, make me a favourite because I never,
ever want you to miss an episode of my podcast. The Jessrow Big Talk Show was presented by me,
Jessrow, executive producer, Nick McClure, audio producer, Nikki Sitch, supervising producer,
Sam Cavanaugh. Until next time, remember to live big. Life is just too crazy and glorious
to waste time on the stuff that doesn't matter. Listener.
Showing 704 of 704 timestamps

Need your own podcast transcribed?

Get the same AI-powered transcription service used to create this transcript. Fast, accurate, and affordable.

Start Transcribing