Tahsin M Khan : ‘I can roast any politician, any party’

On a rain-drenched Banani night, Tahsin M Khan leaned back, smirked, and dropped— "My father was a three-time MP, but since he didn't practice extortion [cue side-eye], I had to settle for comedy to pay the bills." 

The pause, the glint—pure setup. 

"The crowd loves it," he chuckled. "That, and jokes at my own expense. Nail those, and you own the room."

Owning rooms isn't new to Tahsin. Stand-up is just one square on his oversized life-board. He's also a corporate guy, musician, social worker, and family man—basically the sort of multitasker who makes the rest of us feel lazy. Where most juggle one career and a hobby, he plays three-dimensional chess with careers, cracking jokes between moves.

Tahsin spends his weekdays navigating the high-stakes corporate maze of a global oil and gas giant, where "managing deadlines" really means wrestling them to the ground. Before that, he juggled supply chain at a gas plant, HR at a multinational ISP, and stints at a major telecom—basically, if there's a sector, he's probably clocked in there.

But his first gig was in a classroom. "Teaching was my first job," he recalled with a grin. "It teaches you patience—and how to read a room. Both handy when you're facing students… or a comedy crowd."

If Tahsin's weekdays are swallowed by corporate chaos, his nights and weekends are claimed by the stage.

Before comedy, he was a frontman, songwriter, and drummer—rhythm still sneaks into his punchlines. Or, as he likes to put it: "I dated music, but married comedy."

Tahsin has indeed made the hard yards in comedy; having performed at Naveed's Comedy Club, Standup Dhaka, and beyond. His jokes have landed on national TV and even on the radio.

"It all began with a scroll," Tahsin recalled. One random Facebook post led him to Naveed's Comedy Club in Baridhara. "Why not?" he thought—and walked in on a Thursday night. He left with sore cheeks and a new addiction.

Soon, open-mic nights beckoned. "Back then, there were barely ten comedians," he laughed. After a few wobbly sets (and a couple that actually landed), Naveed Mahbub gave him the nudge: "You're ready for feature shows." Tahsin grinned—green light received.

Now, while most would burn out juggling corporate deadlines, social projects, and stage lights, Tahsin thrives. "Comedy is my stress relief," he said. "Some of my best material actually comes from the office—though HR might not approve."

Some say Bangladeshi stand-up leans too much on slang, smut, or borrowed jokes. Tahsin shrugs: "Partially true. But it's really about reading the room. I stick to clean comedy—plenty of others do too. Every style has an audience, but no one wants to bomb because the crowd's cringing."

That's why he started his own platform, Tahsin on the Deck. His pitch? "Smart, sharp, wholesome laughs. No shortcuts, no awkward silences—just comedy that doesn't need a parental advisory sticker."

But should Bangladeshi comedians be bolder? Tahsin doesn't blink: "Absolutely. We've milked cheap laughs for too long. Comedy has to evolve."

But boldness, he stresses, isn't recklessness—it's about sharper angles, local flavour, and jokes that make people think as well as laugh.

Apart from all these, Tahsin has got a quality that's truly striking—his political awareness. With a father who served three terms as an MP, Tahsin grew up on a steady diet of policy talk at the dinner table. "Politics sharpens your eyes," he said. "It helps me peel back society's layers—perfect for writing jokes." 

Add three elder sisters to the mix, and his childhood was equal parts lively, loud, and artsy.

These days, political jokes are a regular feature of his sets. Tahsin grins: "Perks of free expression—I can roast any politician, any party. Honestly, it feels like an adventure."