My version of an Irish exit has an air of deception to it, because it includes my asking loudly, “Where’s the bathroom?” and making theatrical looking-around gestures like a lost foreign tourist. But then, instead of finding the bathroom, I sneakily grab my coat and leave.

There are little Indian girls out there who look up to me, and I never want to belittle the honor of being an inspiration to them. But while I’m talking about why I’m so different, white male show runners get to talk about their art.

Catharsis isn't art. You can't rely on catharsis to get a laugh. Because guess what? People do laugh when something's shocking, but that is, to me, the absolute fakest of laughs. That's not something that sustains a television series, or a movie, or even 45 minutes of a stand-up set at Carolines.

If I gave my mother a knitted scarf she'd be worried I was wasting my time doing stupid stuff like knitting instead of school work. Presenting a homemade knitted object to my parents was actually like handing them a detailed backlog of my idleness.

My dad is funny in his own way, and so is my brother, but in terms of legitimately making a lot of people laugh, that's my mom. I inherit my sense of comedy from her.

I don't think anyone wants to grow up to be Mindy Lahiri, the same way no one wants to grow up to be Michael Scott.But that's OK.

When I was growing up, I didn't do plays in downtown Boston, and my parents weren't putting me in auditions. They never thought, Oh, she has a gift! They never thought of me as an entertainer when I was a young kid.