Finding Her Stage: The Journey of Indian Comedian Mohna in the Netherlands
In the summer of 2024, Amyoku’s founder first encountered “Auntie Mohna from India” at an outdoor open-mic in Rotterdam, the Netherlands. It was one of those late evenings when the sky was still bright. Just before her set, a sudden downpour sent the audience rushing from the café terrace into shelter indoors. Once everyone settled back into their seats, she calmly took the stage.
She was the headliner of the night. In just five minutes of stand-up, Mohna embodied the character of a divorced woman in her sixties, living in the Netherlands and navigating the funny search for love in a foreign land. From awkward dating moments to the experience of body waxing, the audience laughed knowingly with every beat. Out of eight performers that evening, she stood out as the most memorable.
Why did she move to the Netherlands from India?
Mohna first came to the Netherlands through her work in an NGO. Later, a Dutch friend encouraged her to pursue a PhD, which led her to settle in Wageningen (known among Taiwanese as Wa Village), before eventually moving to Amsterdam. That marked the beginning of her unique journey into comedy.
In her fifties at the time, Mohna was curious about everything: she joined gyms, tried belly dancing, and became a regular at English-language comedy shows in Amsterdam—especially at the renowned Boom Chicago. She absorbed it all, and when Amyoku eventually interviewed her, what was supposed to be a one-hour conversation stretched into over two.
One day, someone asked: “Would you like to join a Boom Chicago comedy taster workshop?” It was a beginner-friendly, single-session class.
Her first reaction was hesitation—she had never tried it before. But after hearing more details, she gathered her courage, paid the €25 fee, and signed up.
C’est la vie
Before the class even began, Mohna fell and injured her leg. Unable to attend, she shrugged it off, telling herself it must be destiny’s way of saying “not yet.” This setback didn’t stop her from continuing to enjoy comedy shows as an audience.
By 2021, as a familiar face in the comedy scene, her friends encouraged her again: “You have so many stories to share—why not try stand-up yourself?”
Comedy, broadly speaking, falls into two categories: stand-up and improv. While Mohna preferred the interactive nature of improv, she chose to start with stand-up. She enrolled in Boom Chicago’s taster workshop, learning the basics of performing comedy in English. The class was international, with students from multiple countries. At the end, the school hosted a free showcase where participants performed on stage for the first time—an important step in building confidence.
Mohna’s second set proved tougher: the audience wasn’t as forgiving, and laughter was less generous. Yet rather than discourage her, this only fueled her determination. From then on, she seized every opportunity, even if it meant traveling hours to small towns for a stage.
The night before Amyoku interviewed her, Mohna had just returned from a gig in Belgium, arriving in Amsterdam by overnight bus and catching a cold. Still, she showed up punctually, because—as she proudly said—Amyoku was the first to invite her for a full-length interview as a comedian.
So far, Mohna hasn’t headlined her own ticketed solo show. Most of her performances are in mixed “lineup shows,” sometimes paired with another comedian.
She explained that stand-ups often end up telling similar jokes. For instance, in the Netherlands, the mobile payment link Tikkie is such a common reference that four or five comics might mention it in a single night. By the time the last performer brings it up, the audience has the punchline fatique unfortunately.
That’s why she learned to adapt her material to the region. A Tikkie joke may land in Amsterdam, but it falls flat in Belgium or Germany, where no one uses it.
Her material often touches on themes of appearance anxiety. To her surprise, this resonated across cultures and ages. After one show, a young and glamorous woman approached her saying: “I completely understand what you mean.” Mohna thought: “Even someone that beautiful shares the same insecurities I do!”
On stage, she keeps her look authentic: a mane of gray, curly hair, loose clothing, oversized glasses instead of contacts. When she began her comedian career, she worried: “With this care-free look, plus my Indian background—will audiences accept me?”
To her delight, Dutch audiences embraced her authenticity and the diversity she brought to English-language comedy. These days, she’s recognized on the street: “Aren’t you that stand-up comedian, Mohna?”
Her jokes mostly draw from her own life—her son cheering in the audience, her divorce, or even her father’s sudden passing on a train platform. Few Indian women dare to speak so openly. Elders in her family warned her against talking about death or relationships, but Mohna insists: “I only tell stories from my life. I don’t want to invent for the sake of a laugh.”
She recalled: “Once, the Indian community in the Netherlands invited me to perform at a Diwali celebration. Because it was a family gathering, the organizers reminded me again and again: no risqué jokes, no death, no politics.” In the end, she safely delivered a routine about the struggles of buying a house as an immigrant.
“In 2025, during the India-Pakistan conflict, I had a show. At the end, I compared it to quarreling with my neighbor over the backyard fence. To my surprise, it worked—many in the audience had experienced that exact fight!”
Mohna knows well: the magic of comedy lies in relatability. Maybe her voice reminds people of their mother’s gentle nagging. Maybe her stories rekindle memories of love and heartbreak. That’s why her humor resonates so deeply.
And if you can’t be in the Netherlands to experience her charm in person, you can still follow her work—check out her Instagram @mohnarocks or her YouTube channel for her English-language sets.