I’m Niranjan Pathak.
And before you expect some dramatic self discovery story, relax. I’m not that deep. I’m just honest enough to admit I’m still figuring shit out.
That’s it. That’s the theme.
Everything else is just context.
I don’t wake up with a vision board. I don’t have a five year plan pinned on my wall. I mostly wake up, check my phone, regret checking my phone, and then continue with life.
And somehow, things still move forward.
I’m not confused. I’m just not pretending.
Most people act like they know exactly what they’re doing. They don’t. They’re just louder about it. I stopped pretending because it was exhausting and honestly useless.
I do comedy. I write. I work a corporate job. I’ve worked for TV. I’ve co authored books. I write poetry that I hide like it’s evidence from a crime scene. I exist online but not too loudly.
None of this makes me special. It just makes me busy.
Childhood was normal. Which is underrated.
I grew up in Maharashtra in a pretty normal environment. No trauma worth monetising. No “this made me who I am” moment. Just life happening at a normal speed.
But normal life teaches you a lot if you’re paying attention. How people talk big and act small. How they complain more than they change. How they pretend to be chill while internally losing their mind.
I noticed these things early. Not because I was smart. Because I was bored.
Education made me smarter and more annoying.
I studied at M J College in Jalgaon under North Maharashtra University. I did well academically, which surprised even me.
College didn’t magically give me direction. It just gave me confidence to speak clearly and question bullshit politely. Which later evolved into questioning bullshit less politely.
Still an upgrade.
Corporate life keeps me grounded whether I like it or not.
I’ve worked at BYJU as a Business Development Trainee. That phase teaches you one thing very fast. Nobody gives a fuck about your potential. They care about output.
Right now, I work as a Support Associate at Aspire Webs and Informatics Pvt Ltd. It’s not glamorous. It’s not creative in a romantic sense. But it’s real work.
Support roles show you humans without filters. When something breaks, all personality masks fall off. You learn patience. You learn communication. You also learn that people will blame you for things that happened before electricity was invented.
Great material if you’re a comedian. Terrible if you want peace.
Yes, I worked for TV. Calm down.
I worked as an intern writer for a Marathi TV show.
The experience was very miserable so let us not talk too much about it, but hey I did work for TV and that matters.
The show was boring. Like aggressively boring. The kind of boring that makes you question your career choices while sitting in the writers room. It flopped. Nobody watched it. Probably even the actors avoided it later.
But I learned how TV actually works. Deadlines, compromises, politics, and the brutal truth that effort does not guarantee quality.
It didn’t inflate my ego. It humbled the hell out of it.
Standup comedy is where I feel most alive and most irritated.
I started doing standup around 2019 or 2020. I didn’t start because I wanted fame. I started because I enjoy pointing out things people already know but don’t say.
My comedy is observational. Social behaviour. Internet logic. Daily stupidity. Including my own, because I provide plenty of material myself.
And no, you won’t find my standup videos online.
I keep my standup life very private. I don’t post standup clips because I’m not satisfied with my performance yet. People might love it, but I hate watching myself on video. I see every mistake, every unnecessary word, every missed beat.
When I start liking what I see, I’ll post. Until then, enjoy the mystery or don’t. I’m fine either way.
Online presence? Controlled chaos.
I have two Instagram accounts. One public, one personal. That’s not branding. That’s boundaries.
Public account is for jokes, observations, random thoughts. Personal account is for sanity.
On Twitter, I write short jokes and observations. Sometimes they hit. Sometimes they flop. Once, one of my cricket tweets got quoted on Cricket Countdown on Star Sports. That was cool. I smiled for five minutes and then went back to worrying about normal life shit.
I didn’t make it my personality. Because that would be embarrassing.
I was on TikTok early, before it turned into a cringe factory. I saw the nonsense coming. I made fun of it. People related. Then it ended. Like most internet things.
Writing is where I’m actually serious.
I write blogs. Long ones. Thought heavy ones. About stress, life, society, and things people think but don’t admit.
I’m also a co author of several books. I don’t talk about it much because I don’t see the point of shouting about things that are already done.
And yes, I write poetry.
Do I share my poetry publicly? Not really. Because reading your own poetry later feels like emotional time travel and sometimes you don’t want to revisit that version of yourself. Or maybe I’ll share it someday. Or maybe I won’t.
Who the fuck knows.
Wrestling explains my personality more than therapy ever could.
I’m a wrestling fan. That’s where Hangman and Classic come from. Wrestling taught me storytelling, characters, confidence, and the art of controlled arrogance.
It also taught me that people connect more with flaws than perfection. Which is comforting because I have plenty of flaws.
I’m not chasing success. I’m chasing not hating my life.
I don’t want to be famous for the sake of it. I don’t want to be busy just to look important. I don’t want to rush milestones and then hate the process.
I want to do work that feels honest. Comedy that feels true. Writing that doesn’t make me cringe six months later. Growth that feels earned.
If that takes time, fine.
So who am I, really?
I’m a support associate who does standup.
A comedian who hides his own videos.
A writer who overthinks sharing poetry.
A co author who doesn’t flex it.
A normal guy with a slightly overactive brain and a decent sense of humour.
I’m still figuring things out.
And honestly, that’s the most truthful thing I can say about myself right now.
So why should anyone read my blogs?
(Also yes, this is where niranjanpathak.info comes in.)
Let me be clear first.
You don’t have to read my blogs. I’m not saving lives there. I’m not unlocking secrets of the universe. I’m just writing because my brain doesn’t shut up and writing is cheaper than therapy.
But if you do read my blogs, here’s what you’re signing up for.
First, I don’t write motivational nonsense.
You won’t find “wake up at 5 am and hustle” energy on my site. If anything, I’ll probably question why we romanticise being tired all the time.
I write about stress, overthinking, society, internet behaviour, expectations, and the quiet pressure of just existing. The stuff people think about at night but don’t usually talk about out loud.
Second, I don’t pretend to have answers.
Most blogs online sound like the writer has figured life out and is now blessing the rest of us with wisdom. I don’t trust those people.
My blogs are more like, “I’m confused too, but let’s sit with it for a minute.”
Sometimes I reach a conclusion. Sometimes I don’t. And that’s intentional.
Third, I write like a human, not like a brand.
No forced positivity. No dramatic exaggeration. No pretending I’m wiser than I actually am. If something feels stupid, I’ll say it’s stupid. If I don’t know something, I’ll admit it.
That honesty makes people uncomfortable sometimes. But it also makes the writing feel real.
Fourth, my blogs are not loud.
They don’t scream for attention. They don’t beg you to share. They’re the kind of posts you read quietly and think, “Yeah… I’ve felt this.”
And that’s honestly the best reaction I can ask for.
Fifth, I don’t write to go viral.
I write to make sense of things. If it helps someone else along the way, great. If not, at least my thoughts are out of my head and on a page.
That’s why niranjanpathak.info exists.
It’s not a content factory.
It’s not a personal branding machine.
It’s just a place where I write when something feels worth writing about.
Some posts are calm. Some are uncomfortable. Some might even make you slightly annoyed. That’s fine. If you agree with everything I write, then I’m probably doing something wrong.
So yeah.
If you like honest writing that doesn’t treat you like an idiot, you’ll probably like my blogs.
If you’re looking for life hacks and fake confidence, you definitely won’t.
Either way, no pressure.
I’ll still keep writing.