Two things happened during Nanjiani’s senior year in college. First, he decided to make a career out of jokes. Second, September 11. After that, the easiest way to get work was on “niche” tours with other Muslim comedians. “That was not the comedy I wanted to do,” Nanjiani explains. “Woody Allen is obviously a very ‘Jewish’ comedian, but his stuff is relatable, on a very human level, to everyone. That’s what I aim for.”

Instead, Nanjiani moved to Chicago, where he performed with the group Blerds, founded a monthly sketch-horror show and wrote observational jokes of the Jerry Seinfeld “what’s the deal with?” variety, but with a hip, wordy twist—instead of bits about cab drivers, he talked about video games and dildos. In just a few years, Nanjiani had become one of the most respected stand-ups in the city. “He’d established himself as a strong comic,” says Chris Ritter, artistic director of the Lakeshore Theatre in Chicago. “But he needed to do stuff that was more honest.” Ritter proposed that, instead of working autobiographical jokes into his set, Nanjiani should write an all-new one-man show.

The original run of Unpronounceable, at the Lakeshore, was directed by Paul Provenza and was a sell-out success. So Nanjiani set his sights higher, understanding that, “you really need to move to New York or L.A. to throw your hat in the ring [as a comic].” A longtime Woody Allen fan, he says his decision was easy.

The first act details his Pakistani childhood, praying five times a day and fasting during Ramadan. Nanjiani often uses Western pop-cultural references to explain the traditions of Islam. “Pigs to Muslims are like water to Gremlins,” he says. He contextualizes the constant threat of Sunni-Shiite conflicts by declaring his childhood love for He-Man and Skeletor figurines: “I had a real connection to cartoonish fights to the death for control of the universe.”

In the second act, Nanjiani moves to “the lion’s den”—Grinnell, Iowa—where he witnesses snow, alcohol and dance parties: “There’s a spot on the floor where people shake around? Why?!? What do the winners get?” As a freshman he still prays—or tries to, considering his roommate’s active sex life. But he also studies philosophy, which leads to a 2am existential crisis, the timing of which he admits is clichéd: “But that’s just when they happen! I didn’t pick it. If I had, I would have chosen, like, an hour after lunchtime, when you’re all energized and ready to tackle an epiphany.”

It’s the kind of realization most Westerners are never in a position to experience. Unpronounceable will teach you a thing or two about Islam and Pakistani culture; it will also make you appreciate the ideological freedoms New Yorkers take for granted (a guy sitting in front of us guffawed in shock at each mention of religious zealotry). But if you catch Nanjiani’s stand-up sets instead of his solo show this week, expect the clever jokes to be about Atari, not Karachi.

Unpronounceable happens Mar 28, 2008. Nanjiani also performs Mar 27, 2008, in the Non-Motivational Speaker Series and Mar 29, 2008, in (D)evangelical Comedy.