Will they be expunged from the canon of English literature taught in schools and colleges or will they be…adapted, suitably? A visual and satirical imagining of what may be in store.
After tossing the Mughals out of history books, Charles Darwin out of science textbooks, and the periodic classification of elements out of science textbooks, is it now time for the great classics to meet a similar fate?
Will they be expunged from the canon of English literature taught in schools and colleges or will they be…adapted, suitably?
‘Classical Manoeuvres’ seems to think they will be adapted and give expression to their darkest fears…
‘Classical Manoeuvres’ is a drawing studio that is trying to manoeuvre its way through the absurdities of ‘Amrit Kaal’ .
From the Vishwaguru Archives: In the context of critical western reports, our view is that as a prosperous, powerful and potent nation under a world-leading helmsman, we must learn to simply ignore such outside voices.
This is a work of fiction. Although it may appear closer to reality than fiction.
According to a report in Bar & Bench and other publications, when Justice K.M. Joseph observed during a hearing in the Supreme Court on the Bilkis Bano case that India ranked 161st in the World Press Freedom Index, solicitor-general Tushar Mehta feistily joined the issue with the judge. Never the man to back down, Mehta remarked that rankings depend on who is giving it. “It depends upon the person. I can have my own form and give India the first place.”
Now, it transpires that after this testy exchange, the apex court received in sealed cover a report on the state of the Indian Media. Given the very nature of the document, no source on Tilak Marg can confirm the existence of the report. However, we are given to understand that the document below is a work in progress and should only be read as such.
HIGH-POWERED MINISTERIAL COMMITTEE, DRAFT REPORT:
WHEREAS this government is fully and completely committed to the values and principles of a free press, as provided for, and protected in the Constitution of India;
And, WHEREAS we believe that a free press is a vital part of the superstructure of democracy and constitutes a critical element in the doctrine of the ‘basic structure of the Constitution” as defined by the Hon’ble Supreme Court in the S.R. Bommai vs Union of India judgment;
And, WHEREAS we believe that like all other believers in constitutional values and republican virtues—like the legislature, the judiciary, political parties and civil society – the media too should have a robust and vibrant role in re-building India into a strong and prosperous nation,
And TAKING NOTE of various reports, national and international, suggesting the shrinking of space for a free media in this age of Amrit Kaal, it was decided to take stock of the matter at the highest level of government.
It was decided by the competent authority that a ministerial committee be appointed consisting of:
Shri Amit Shah, hon’ble Union home minister Shri Anurag Thakur, hon’ble minister for information and broadcasting, and Shrimati Smriti Irani, hon’ble minister for Women and Child Development and Minority Affairs.
By way of broad-basing the committee, the ‘IT Cell’ was requested to second a senior functionary to serve as secretary to this committee.
The Committee’s tentative report (with score on each count) reads:
1) In our deliberations, and investigations and judgments, we were guided by the Hon’ble Prime Minister’s most noble and most innovative exhortations to the nation to become ‘aatmanirbhar’ in every single sphere of national endeavour;
2) Rather than being guided by western models and definitions of a “free press” (which, it should incidentally be noted, has reduced America to be the most divided and polarised nation in the democratic world), we insisted on listening to the members of the media fraternity itself (except, of course, to those sections which remain indifferent to the cause of the Glory of the Hindu Rastra and who mock the Thought of our Great Leader).
3) According to most editors and anchors, the Indian media enjoys maximum and unfettered freedom to praise, extol or project the national leadership. There is complete freedom to do so in whatever form works for a particular media outfit. There is no prescribed format for hailing the Leader. The only expectation is that a respectful tone be always maintained towards Him. (score: 9/10)
4) Most officials associated with telling the governmental story are of the view that the India media has complete liberty to become a positive and purposeful partner in ushering in Amrit Kaal. Many officials expressed the view that most journalists felt a sense of great personal joy and professional satisfaction in bridging the gap between our National Saviour and the masses. In doing so, the journalist fraternity appreciates the role of responsibility and criticality assigned to it by our government to rationalise and explain our policies and actions to the readers and viewers. (score: 9/10)
5) Most anchors and editors noted, off the record, that their readers and viewers appreciate “positive” and morale-lifting stories about the government and its top leadership. Negativity, as the Hon’ble Prime Minister had recently pointed out, tends to become a hindrance in the nation’s onward march towards vikas, or developed status. (score: 8/10)
6) Most anchors and editors acknowledged that they were at complete liberty to criticise, berate, and degrade the Opposition and its leaders. Again, off the record, these professional men and women were grateful for all the leaks and inside information that our officials and party colleagues could provide them against the opposition figures, particularly against the Gandhi family. There is perfect understanding and coordination between the two pillars of democracy. Nowhere else in the world does the media receive so much professional help and assistance as in India since 2014. (score: 10/10)
7) Some veteran editors were of the view that rather feel any kind of embarrassment, the much-derided godi media professionals should stand up and say with garv, or pride, that they are grateful for being given a small part in India’s historic tryst with destiny. (score 7/10)
By way of a conclusion:
Our tentative conclusion is that the India Media is alive and kicking; both on an organizational and an individual level, the journalistic fraternity has rarely known this kind of economic prosperity; there seems to be enormous satisfaction with the government and its senior functionaries.
In the context of critical western reports, our view is that as a prosperous, powerful, potent, assertive nation under a world-leading helmsman, we must learn to simply ignore these outside voices and concentrate on deepening the current, two-way approach of cooperation and cooption between the government and the national media.
These conclusions can be shared with the honorable Supreme Court, if required.
Atmanirbhar is the pen-name of an aspiring satirist, who irregularly contributes a column, From the Vishwavguru Archives, and believes that ridicule and humour are central to freedom to speech and expression.
That in one fell swoop the never-to-be-celebrated ‘Cow Hug Day’ was consigned to the trash bin of history is, in the eyes of this writer, a great tragedy.
Animals are in the news.
Last month, the announcement of the final nominations for the 95th Academy Awards (the Oscars, in popular lexicon) received more than its usual share of media attention in India. This was due, in no small part, to the unlikely global phenomenon that RRR has become – and it lived up to the hype by scoring a nomination in the Best Original Song category.
RRR’s menagerie of wild cats may have grabbed more eyeballs but they are not the only animals that will be making their way from India to the Kodak Theatre in Hollywood.
A happy outcome of the intense media gaze on RRR was a much-deserved moment in the sun being afforded to a couple of animal-centric, Indian movies that also made the cut for the Oscars nominations: All That Breathes and The Elephant Whisperers. The former has been nominated in the Best Documentary Feature Film category and narrates the story – on the surface, at least – of a pair of bird-rescuing brothers in Delhi. The latter (a nominee in the Best Documentary Short Film category) is a heart-warming account of a couple raising elephant calves in the breath-taking, verdant wilderness of the Mudumalai National Park in Tamil Nadu.
With so much attention being lavished on these other beasts, how could our (un-)official national animal be left out of the spotlight?
On February 6, the Animal Welfare Board of India (an advisory body under the Ministry of Fisheries, Animal Husbandry and Dairying) took upon itself the task of remedying this situation by issuing the “Cow Hug” notification.
In this brief but remarkable notification the Animal Welfare Board bemoaned the “extinction” of “Vedic traditions” on account of the “progress of west culture” and “dazzle of western civilization”. It extolled the many virtues of “Gaumata” (cow mother) – describing it as the “backbone of Indian culture” – and then proceeded to make the most intriguing claim that “hugging with cow will bring emotional richness”.
Having made this sensational revelation, it avuncularly urged “all the cow lovers” to celebrate February 14 as “Cow Hug day” to make their lives “happy and full of positive energy”.
The February 6 notification, quite naturally, hit the headlines and the not-too-subtle attempt at appropriating Valentine’s Day as “Cow Hug day” served as fodder for endless jokes and memes on social media.
Some raised the issue – not unreasonably – of whether hugging a cow without its consent would be appropriate. Others were more concerned about the risk of goring and the physical well-being of would-be-huggers. As civic society deliberated on these critical issues and prepared to celebrate the nation’s first “Cow Hug Day”, there was a disappointing development.
On February 10, the Animal Welfare Board issued a terse notification declaring that its appeal “for celebration of Cow Hug Day on 14th February, 2023 stands withdrawn.”
With one fell swoop, the never-to-be-celebrated “Cow Hug Day” was consigned to the trash bin of history, and in the eyes of this writer at least, this amounted to a great tragedy.
It is a crying shame that so many commentators who had ridiculed and mocked the “Cow Hug Day” initiative – which had perhaps triggered its demise – had failed to appreciate its subtler nuances and the immense potential it possessed to bring about societal change.
Cows and Valentine’s Day are both seemingly benign topics that have, for years, served to rile up a host of right-wing, vigilante outfits to egregious bouts of violence. By preaching a message of “emotional richness” and “positive energy”, the February 6 notification was, in fact, an impassioned appeal to these elements to choose the path of peace and harmony.
The textual directive to hug cows may have appeared comical and bizarre but its brilliance lay in the manner in which it sought to disseminate its subtextual message of non-violence and pacifism; particularly amongst those who identify as ‘cow lovers’ but often morph into violent ‘cow protectors’, as well as those who assault young couples and vandalise private property, in the name of preserving Indian culture.
Indeed, even if this intended audience had failed to appreciate the underpinning philosophy of the notification and had acted upon its literal instructions after taking it at face value, it would have still led to a positive outcome. Self-professed cow-lovers and saviours of Indian morality could hardly have ignored the establishment’s urgent instructions to fete the bovine mascot of our ancient civilisation.
On February 14, they would have been far too busy hugging cows to engage in wanton acts of aggression against coffee shops and couples. And who knows, perhaps some of them may have even felt the surge of that promised “positive energy” that would have persuaded them to lay down their arms against an imagined enemy and choose a more peaceable, wholesome approach to life.
Unfortunately, the short-sighted critique of the “Cow Hug” notification and its subsequent withdrawal, robbed us of the opportunity to experience its full impact.
As with many other ground-breaking ideas before it, perhaps the February 6 notification too, was ahead of its time. One can only hope that the next time the authorities issue a similarly revolutionary edict, we, as a society, are ready to embrace it.
Wodehouse was a genius not only because of the quantity and sustained quality of his output; not just because of his enormous erudition, handled so lightly that he could tuck in everything from Shakespeare, Cicero, Marcus Aurelius to popular lyrics: no, it was also because he could improvise new comic elements but from within a tightly framed set of narrative chords.
Vikram Doraiswami, Indian High Commissioner to the UK in London, addressed the PG Wodehouse Society in his personal capacity.
I confess to no small sense of trepidation in addressing this distinguished audience. I say this not merely because public speaking is most unappealing to the average person without a career in politics, especially if he has a bit of what Robert Burns called the gift to see “oursels as ithers see us”, and thus a disinclination for making an ass of himself; I also quail at this prospect because I come to this august gathering only modestly armed with this speech and the redoubtable Tony Ring’s books.
Indeed, I feel rather like an under-armed gladiator without as much as a sword or shield before the lions of the Wodehouse Society. All I can hope is that genuine Indian spice might prevent you from finding me, as Sir Roderick Glossop once described chicken fricassee chez Wooster, ‘singularly toothsome’.
Should I fail to hold your attention, please know that this is because I did not get enough time to drink deeply at your club’s Pierian fountain. Although Alexander Pope claimed that it is only those who drink but shallowly who are intoxicated, I think the Master was more accurate when he said in Right Ho Jeeves that “as any Member of Parliament will tell you, if you want real oratory, the preliminary noggin is essential. Unless pie-eyed, you cannot hope to grip”. This, I guess, is what it means to be as high as a Lord.
Hence, while being intimidated enough to have had a preparatory nip or two, I fear I have not as yet reached Parliamentary levels of loquacity.
Be that as it may, I recognise that many here paid literally or metaphorically for the dubious pleasure of hearing an exotic speaker, with an accent that recalls a tropical land redolent of snakes, gin, tonic and dramatic sunsets, tell you things you already knew about the greatest author in the English language since Shakespeare. Therefore, that modest entertainment you shall have. I can’t promise snakes, but certainly you might find a hint or two of tropical evenings and gin. And no, I won’t do a Gussie Fink-Nottle on you, not because I’m not tempted to bring back prize giving day at Market Snodsbury, but that is only because I am insufficiently lubricated.
Ladies and gentlemen, you are already well aware of the peculiar phenomenon that India presents in the world of Wodehouse: it is possibly the largest continuing markets for his books, with singularly devoted fans, even though the country and its outsize place in the empire is conspicuous by its absence in his books.
Wodehouse societies apart, India is still a country where one might find Wodehouse fans in the oddest of places — not just in prisons, as the Master gloomily assumed his fan base festered, in a delightful short piece in Plum Pie, although there is curiously that story too in India’s social-media driven era of political angst. These include the not-so-gently-decaying Raj-era halls, libraries and tea-planters clubs, where one might expect to find well-thumbed copies of his books. The Master is also to be found in swish bookshops of Lutyen’s Delhi, the malls of Bangalore and the Raj-era streets of Kolkata. Collected sets and new prints are still sold at India’s teeming airports at bookstalls whose product range otherwise barely justifies the appellation of ‘bookseller’; and at railway stations, and the vast jumble of second-hand booksellers that dot most old areas of our cities.
So just who is reading these books? And why?
Let me start with the first question. Wodehouse’s works appeal to Indians of the most diverse social backgrounds. There are the predictable lot: upper-class anglophone Indians, but also less well-known examples across India’s diplomatic, home civil service and armed forces — where we still actually do a good line in generously-whiskered, harrumphing old Colonels with swagger sticks and tweedy coats. Wodehousiana permeates corporate India as well as academia and of course, the media. It is reasonable to assume that most educated Indians of a certain vintage have at least read one PG Wodehouse story.
Even younger English-speaking Indians have at least heard the name. If we go by the rough rule of thumb that some 10% of our population speaks fluent English — yielding a modest 130 million souls (if you can count elites as people with souls) – we deduce that the Master is better known to a larger number in India (which, frankly, isn’t difficult given the fact that there are 20 times more Indians than Britons), than even in his home country.
Indeed, as Malcolm Muggeridge said: the last Englishmen left in the world are Indian.
Even if we set aside Muggeridge’s somewhat incorrect conclusion, the fact remains that Wodehouse is widely read in India. So why is this so? After all, none of the Master’s stories are set in India. Indeed, the Colonies intrude but rarely into the pristine world of London and the ‘Shires. Even beyond, in America too, it is New York that figures as mise-en-scene, apart of course, from Hollywood. We can assume that having recognised that there was more downside risk than upside advantage in mining the complexities of politics for humour, Wodehouse extended that practical decision to the empire as well.
And so, a first point: in a land where politics is our staple entertainment, and in an era where it is increasingly hard to know whether politics is risible, regrettable or reprehensible, it is the focused, almost deliberate near-vacuum of politics that makes the world of Wodehouse a perfect Eden. Admittedly, the gooseberry-eyed Butlers, eccentric uncles and sparkling young ladies make his Wodehouse’s world a veritable paradise, but the near-complete absence of overtly political themes is also very attractive. Of course, there are some stories that touch upon politics — socialism figures, including in the shorthand Communist Manifesto, advocating the equal distribution of property, where you start by collaring all you can and sitting on it. There is also only a singular reference to Civil Disobedience in India, and of course, one of my favourite scenes in “Big Money”, where the Earl of Hoddesdon gets his top hat stoned by a young lad, and is then pursued by an agitated parent who in part voices a proletariat urge to disembowel the Earl for being, among other things, a burjois. And yet these are but trace elements in a body of work spanning some 99 books.
Second: subtlety. As Tony Ring, that druid of things Wodehouse, writes — there is nothing simple in the world of Wodehouse. For a nation that is loud on politics and flamboyant, shall we say, in its use of political theatre, the exquisite subtlety of the Master is a pitch-perfect contrast. Every book is redolent with the most brilliant sentence construction, and every word is perfectly suited to the point of its placement. While it would be a stretch to say that Indians read Wodehouse solely because of his literary craftsmanship, it is not incorrect to link this virtue to the long Indian literary tradition that prizes the simultaneous use of subtlety, precision and creativity in word-smithy. This tradition dates back to classical Sanskrit literature, in particular, the legendary Kalidasa — indeed, given chronology, we might describe Shakespeare as the English Kalidasa — but this tradition continues into the age of courtly Urdu and Persian, reaching its apogee with the genius of Delhi’s own Mirza Ghalib. The brilliance of a line that turns around and carries a sting in the tail, as it were, is particularly valued in Indian literary tradition. See for instance, this line from Lord Emsworth Acts for the Best:
“Years before, when a boy, and romantic as most boys are, his lordship had sometimes regretted that the Emsworths, though an ancient clan, did not possess a Family Curse. How little he had suspected that he was shortly to become the father of it.”
And contrast it with Ghalib’s famous line:
“Oh Lord, it is not the sins I committed that I regret, but those which I had no opportunity to commit.”
Third: the art of gentle insurrection. Without over-analysing social conflict (especially in this era of culture wars), it is not hard to see genuine empathy of the author for precisely the young self-made, driven and aspirational representatives of a new era. With its long history of feudalism, Indian culture is similarly full of insurrection through humour, especially that in which our own upper class twits come a cropper.
Take, for example, the institution of a brilliant court humourist: the repertoire of a court comic is replicated in not only the Court of Emperor Akbar, but also in Bengal and indeed in South India. Thus the wit of Birbal, Gopal the Jester and Tenali Raman are a staple of popular culture in India. And so it is reasonable to see why the English-speaking middle class in India identify with the aspiring members of Mr Mulliner’s large family tree — and not just because we have vast families too — or with energetic second sons and hard-working, self-made women, who reflect the spirit of a new entrepreneurial class. This is also very much a theme that is reflected in India’s own modern story.
One of my favourite insurrectionary quotes, which applies very much to my own story, is this one from The World of Mr Mulliner:
“As Egbert from boyhood up had shown no signs of possessing any intelligence whatsoever, a place had been found for him in the Civil Service.”
Or this denunciation of that prize snob, the Duke of Dunstable:
“You are without exception the the worst tick and bounder that ever got fatty degeneration of the heart through gorging food and wine wrenched from the lips of a starving proletariat. You make me sick. You poison the air. Good-bye Uncle Alaric, said Ricky, drawing himself away rather ostentatiously. ‘I think we had better terminate this interview, or I may become brusque’”.
Fourth: sentimentality: Indians are gluttons for it. Anyone who has seen a Bollywood film knows that the narrative is primarily built around boy-meets girl — boy loses girl — boy-gets-girl again. It’s almost as if tanned versions of Bingo Little or Pongo Twistleton are permanent fixtures on Indian screens. It is almost a heresy to say so, but if we were to take a sliding scale between sentiment and humour, in early Wodehouse works, the dial was more set toward the side of sentiment. But this evolved: indeed, the dial more or less settled in the direction of gentle humour, following what might be called his first quarter. While Indian films largely remains set closer to the sentimental side, the general principle of Bollywood storylines is resolutely Wodehousian, in terms of theme, but also in the treatment of love without all the messy business of sex — which for decades Bollywood coyly avoided. Indeed, in general, Bollywood long reflected the advise offered to Sally (in Adventures of Sally), that
“chumps always make the best husbands….all the unhappy marriages come from the husbands having brains. What good are brains to a man?”
What indeed, one is tempted to say.
In short, therefore, as Nicholas Barber notes, Wodehouse made it his purpose to make people happy, and to spread as he called it, “sweetness and light”. And how!
Fifth, and my final point before the audience gets restive and goes beyond staring at its collective wrist-watch and demands direct action: we in India share with you an admiration for the hardest act that Wodehouse performed. That I believe, is making humour look effortless and spontaneous. We have empirical evidence to show us just how hard he worked: a staggering 96 (Or 99) books; hundreds of short stories, and such a staggering output rate in his early years of relative hardship that he was able to keep body and soul together on the strength of his pen without his day job as a banker. But even more than quantity, it was the superhuman effort to produce quality: we know from the Master’s own account of the kind of effort he made to keep his plot taut and action brisk. This included typing reams of plot and narrative ideas and hanging up each sheet of paper like laundry on a clothes line; these were then literally lifted or dropped page by page, or twisted, to identify bits that need reworking upward, downward or to add a twist to the tale. Compared to most ordinary writers, most of whom would not rework anything, except perhaps a letter pleading for an overdraft, Wodehouse worked incredibly hard to produce effortless, and seemingly spontaneous humour.
As an advertisement once said, in a different context, the footballer Leo Messi worked 18 years to become an overnight sensation.
To do all of this, and to do it well consistently for decades, and to be completely devoid of a larger-than-life persona is also very appealing, especially to the middle class in India that has similarly had to graft hard to succeed.
And so, ladies and gentlemen, fellow travellers in the world of Wodehouse: having made the case for Wodehouse’s special place in India, where do we go from here? There is certainly a case for a larger effort by Wodehouse societies the world over to introduce to a new generation of readers the genius of Wodehouse. For there is little point denying that this is necessary for younger generations, if for no other reason than for their own good, as the world they inherit is quite as grim as the one that Wodehouse acknowledged but rarely, almost paranthetically. Is there a feasible way of doing so?
Perhaps one option is the way forward presented by the authorised new Wodehouse works that place in new context our familiar old friends and bring them into a new dimension of story-telling. The homage by Ben Schott, for instance, is superbly done. Are podcasts an option? The Master was famously unconvinced, as he found his readings of his own work to be less than perfect. Is film or TV an option? Well made though most of the previous film efforts were, the nuance of Wodehouse was often lost in most of the serials and TV productions, although speaking personally, and if I am allowed to say so I found the Hugh Laurie/Stephen Fry Jeeves and Wooster series the best of the lot. Indeed, it is hard to visualise Jeeves now and not think of Stephen Fry — and I say this even though I am convinced that Jeeves was actually Indian. Yes, really. Sift the evidence: in Right Ho Jeeves, we hear from Bertie that Jeeves doesn’t have to open doors. He’s like one of those birds in India who bung their astral bodies about – the chaps, I mean, who having gone into thin air in Bombay, reassemble the parts and appear two minutes later in Calcutta.
Hence, my final conclusion. Frankly, we love Wodehouse because of course, his smartest and most celebrated character was a carefully disguised Indian, after whom even dry cleaning services have been named here in London!
More seriously, I conclude here, ladies and gentlemen, with one final thought, which frankly comes about 20 minutes too late to help you: to analyse the work of Wodehouse and his genius is like deconstructing a really fine souffle. Frankly, it is just as pointless. Truly fine comic talent is famously hard to analyse: we find something funny as much because of who we are, and not solely because of the subject. Wodehouse was a genius not only because of the quantity and sustained quality of his output; not just because of his enormous erudition, handled so lightly that he could tuck in everything from Shakespeare, Cicero, Marcus Aurelius to popular lyrics: no, it was also because he could improvise new comic elements but from within a tightly framed set of narrative chords.
If jazz and Indian classical music share the same almost oxymoronic freedom to innovate freely, but within a rigid parameter of chords and scales, P.G. Wodehouse pulled off exactly that feat: in a tight framework of silly asses, doddery peers, absent-minded clergy and comic villains, butlers, bright young things and of course, armadas of aunts, he created endless, magical music that always leaves me thinking that the world is a better place than I thought.
And therefore, he is, was and will always be The Master.
Four days ago an F-22 Raptor’s first air-to-air kill became a high altitude spy balloon. That may be thrilling, but no less than when a naval hot air balloon landed in a village sarpanch’s house in north India – with the Deputy Chief of the Naval Staff in it!
On Saturday, February 4, 2023, an F-22 Raptor from US Air Force’s Northern Command took down a “high altitude surveillance balloon launched by and belonging to the People’s Republic of China (PRC) over the water off the coast of South Carolina in US airspace.”
The debris fell harmlessly into the sea where multiple agencies were positioned to recover it. With this, US-China relations have touched a new low.
I have a balloon story too.
This dates back to the 90s, soon after I met my life partner to be. The colourful new balloon with Indian Navy markings belonged to the Integrated Headquarters of the Ministry of Defence (Navy)’s Directorate of Adventure, Physical Fitness and Sports Activities (DAPSA).
Unlike the Chinese “research” balloon that reportedly used artificial intelligence and air currents to figure its way into continental USA, this one was a hot air balloon meant to foster the spirit of adventure among Navy folks.
Under the Balloon. Photo: Kaypius pic
When hot air was met with cold shoulder
My reasons for floating over the skies of Delhi and neighbouring Haryana were rather simple: my fiancée Madhuri was posted at Delhi while I was serving on a warship in the Southern Naval Command for the award of a watch-keeping ticket (WKT). The ship’s commanding officer was a thoroughbred gunner; a hard taskmaster who viewed everything that flew – pilots included – as legitimate targets.
Standing watch at sea for hours and manning the gangway in harbour was giving me a stress fracture in the brain.
Separation pangs were upon me and I would have run an ultra-marathon to New Delhi only if somebody would have granted me leave. But it was easier to ask for the Kohinoor diamond under that command.
It was late December. Winters are the ideal season for ballooning. DAPSA sought volunteers for a two-week ballooning camp at Delhi. The India General (equivalent of a ‘K Broadcast’ which is an IAF-wide message that reaches the rank and file of the air force) found its way into the signal pack and I chanced upon it as Assistant Officer of the Day.
It was a godsent opportunity for me. But there was a small problem – our commanding officer believed young aviators posted on ships must take sanyaas from such activities. I somehow found my inner voice and approached the commanding officer gingerly with a request to be sent for the camp. He scrunched his nose in distaste and asked me to return to the gangway forthwith.
Love story melts a gunner’s heart!
Quite like President Biden’s decision dilemma “to shoot or not to shoot”, I had a narrow window of three days to get my name into the list.
Love can be a powerful driving force.
I went ashore, plotted with the Staff Officer (Sports and Adventure) in the headquarters and secured a tentative berth under the “nominated to volunteer” category, provided I could get the green signal from the ship. I returned to the ship with a more inflated story about my love for flying, adventure and so on.
The commanding officer ripped through my ‘Balloon Files’ immediately.
“I know your story about love for ballooning, etc. is all hot air. There is some other agenda – come on, out with it,” he said.
Left with nowhere to hide, I tugged at his heart – believing one existed – with an old boat hook. “Sir, this is my last New Years Eve as a bachelor and I want to spend it with my fiancée.”
It was a leap of faith but it turns out that the old man had a heart. Besides, it was from one mallu to another, about another mallu.
“If you want to engage in hazardous activities that could potentially break a limb and get you withdrawn from flying, I am not going to come in your way. Get your GX (genform) and get off the ship,” he ordered, returning to more important matters of the state.
The GX (genform) is a document raised whenever an officer or sailor is deputed on ‘temporary duties’. The event for raising the GX, for example, a transfer, temporary duty, retirement, wedding, etc., is also called a “casualty”!
Freedom at midnight
The joy of getting parole from a warship for a two-week, all expenses paid ‘temporary duty’ to your fiancée’s city is hard to describe. Even the long train journey from south to north in ‘unreserved third class’ could not diminish my josh.
Ballooning typically is done early morning and late evening when the temperatures are lower, allowing me almost the entire day to scope out The Oberoi New Delhi, mostly hanging out in the cafe or parking lot hoping for M to get a few minutes off.
I scoured the entire city in flying overalls on a borrowed two-wheeler, in freezing temperatures, like a typical aashiq . It mattered little that in pre-Metro Delhi my accommodation in 212 Rocket Regiment (West Patel Nagar), the venue for ballooning (Sohna and beyond, in Haryana) and M’s house in Defence Colony felt as geographically and temporally spaced out as China and the USA.
After basic ground training and a few tethered flights, I did free flights with a coursemate who had achieved instructor status on the hot air device. My partner in crime, Banjo, always ensured me ‘administrative duties’ around ‘Def Col’ during the course. I don’t remember having a better time in life.
The gallivanting balloonist. Photo: Kaypius
A star-studded experience
Towards the end of our camp, then Deputy Chief of the Naval Staff (DCNS), himself a highly respected fighter pilot and keen adventurist, decided to join us on a weekend with his family of aviation buffs – son was already a fighter pilot in the IAF and daughter was training to be a civil pilot, if I recall correctly.
The admiral was a hands-on aviator with a known penchant for the out of the ordinary, like winching down from a Chetak into a submarine, and so on. An experienced civil instructor was handling the burner. I was in the chase jeep when the VIP balloon took to the air with admiral and his family. After an uneventful flight of about 20 minutes, the admiral’s quota of ‘fair winds and following seas’ seemed to run out. The hot air balloon with one of the navy’s most valuable assets started drifting into uncharted territory.
We watched helplessly from the chase jeep as the balloon started going down into faraway fields with barely an approach road.
By the time we reached the periphery of the field, local villagers had laid siege to this unidentified flying object that had descended into a private estate. The rumpled, deflated balloon envelope hid the Indian Navy markings.
Those were days before proliferation of mobile phones and instant connectivity. We were down to Motorola and unmotorable tracks. There were no flags or star plates on the basket either; just tense moments about how this unplanned landing would turn out.
Sukhwinders here, no Sidewinders
In the event, we managed to convince some of the onlookers that this was no commoner. By this time, the admiral’s star-plated flag car and accompanying naval entourage also fetched up at the scene. It was the villagers’ “aasman se aaya farishta” moment. The sarpanch or village head was informed. He decided that the ‘guests’ cannot be released without enjoying the mehman nawazi or hospitality of the first family.
Leading a convoy of military staff cars and chase vehicles through village roads meant for bullock carts was not without its delightful hiccups – like when the flag car got stranded in a nullah and all of us, including the admiral, had to get down and do “dum laga ke haisha,” the rallying cry for strength-related tasks equivalent to the “one-two-six” in Navalese!
All’s well that lands well
So it came to pass that a bunch of naval adventurers, including a deputy chief of the navy and an M-26 chasing his F-22, sat on a charpoy on the village sarpanch’s terrace, sipping hot tea and cold lassi on a foggy Sunday morning while villagers watched from the fence with glee and admiration.
The sarpanch said it was the first time he played host to a three-star official, admitting to the little social leg-up this event would give him in his community. The DCNS and his family, who went through the entire episode with grace and panache, pulled out a memento from thin air (read deft staff work), which was duly presented to the beaming sarpanch.
No shots were fired, no balloon was popped. The only “casualty” was a marriage genform that was raised on young lieutenant ‘Kaypius’ five months later!
Indian Navy – we get our fighting spirit through sports and adventure. What about you?
This article first appeared on the writer’s blog. Some names have been withheld to protect identity and promote good humour!
Kaypius is the pen name for the writer, a full-time aviator. He can be reached at realkaypius@gmail.com and tweets at @realkaypius.
From the Vishwaguru Archives: The Saheb Projection Group has failed to see that our Saheb is a historic figure in the annals of public stage and popular entertainment. Thus, an authoritative list has been published without his name in it.
This is a work of fiction. Although it may appear closer to reality than fiction.
The Saheb Projection Group (SPG) was seething with frustration and incomprehension. The Big Saheb was reported to be very, very angry and the SPG was being given a tongue-lashing. Though this was not the first time the Saheb Projection Group has been ticked off for taking its eye off the ball, it has, nonetheless, strived hard, 24×7, to give satisfaction to its most demanding boss – whose appetite for “image” remains insatiable.
The latest salvo was a bit too much, and the group has been berated, virtually roughed up, for not seeing to it that Saheb figured in the prestigious Empire List of 50 Greatest Actors of All Time. The magazine, Empire, is highly respected as an authoritative movie publication.
What is worse, that Shahrukh Khan figures in the list is like rubbing a kilo of Baba Ramdev’s shuddh organic salt in Saheb’s wound. Simply unacceptable.
The SPG was summoned to the presence of Saheb’s consigliere. He was just not prepared to consider that the Empire list was about film actors, not about public or political leaders. The consigliere gave a mouthful to the assembled worthies:
“Our Saheb is a historic figure in the annals of public stage and popular entertainment. What is a political arena? It is nothing but a stage for a great leader to perform. At the end of the day, a leader is nothing but an actor who can communicate with a much bigger audience, well beyond the theater-hall.
“And, our Saheb, is the first, the very first leader – and I want to you all to understand this clearly – in the history of 2,000 years of organised political society – who has put himself out to learn the art of acting.
“Unlike these arrogant Nehrus and Gandhis who think that just because they are born in a certain family they get endowed with acting ability – such aristocratic conceit – our Saheb has submitted himself to the spirit of democratic humbleness. He worked hard to learn the rules of entire stagecraft. How to talk to the camera, how to strike a chord with the audience beyond the camera. Like a true professional, he is always, always, on stage. Performing, gesturing, gesticulating, always in control of his body language.
“So, gentlemen, I do not want to hear anyone suggest that our Saheb was not entitled to be considered in this list of the Greatest Actors of All Time.
“And, do I need to remind you that the list got compiled by some kind of online voting? You people were sleeping at the wheel. Here we have the all the technical savvy and knowledge and know-how on how to influence opinion-polls, manipulate headlines, and if necessary ‘correct’ a few results here and there; and, you guys are telling me that we could not get into the Empire game?”
The SPG stood properly chastised. But one member did dare to point out our embassies and high commissions were not pulling their weight behind this Projecting the Ultimate Leader Project, or PULP.
“In this case, those Foreign Service guys posted in London could have alerted us that something like the Empire list was coming out. After all, we come from provincial backgrounds and are focused on the domestic audience, relatively unaware of the uses these foreign platforms can be put to. If we had an inkling of such a poll in advance, we could have ensured that Saheb got the highest vote. After all, we are not without our assets in London and other European markets.”
The consigliere was not buying any of these explanations. With his trade-mark smirk of confidence, he told the SPG that he has taken the matter in his own hands. Corporate friends from Ahmedabad have been asked to open a line to Empire magazine and its publishing house.
“Everything is for sale in London, just as it is in India. As a global power we should flex our muscle outside the country. This implied insult to our Saheb will not go unnoticed.”
Atmanirbhar is the pen-name of an aspiring satirist, who irregularly contributes a column, From the Vishwavguru Archives, and believes that ridicule and humour are central to freedom to speech and expression.
As joking becomes a crime in the world’s largest democracy, The Wire’s Arfa Khanum Sherwani discusses with three guests on how political comedy is becoming dangerous in India.
This is the full translated transcript of a panel discussion on Munawar Faruqui’s arrest. This article was first published on January 11, 2021 and is being republished on November 29, 2021, after several of Faruqui’s shows were cancelled across India because of pressure from right-wing groups.
Arfa Khanum Sherwani: Hello and welcome to The Wire, I am Arfa Khanum Sherwani. In the world’s largest democracy, it is now a crime to crack jokes. You can be jailed for joking. Indore Police arrested well-known comedian Munawar Faruqui and alleged that he made derogatory remarks about Amit Shah and Hindu gods and goddesses.
The police later admitted that no such remarks were made about Hindu gods and goddesses. Despite that, this person has been in jail from January 1 to 5. Till now, journalists, opposition political leaders, social activists, even lawyers were being targeted but now political satire…if anyone cracks jokes on politics, it will be considered a crime. Such a novel situation is being created. The scenario looks similar to that of the blasphemy law of Pakistan. An informal version of that law can now be seen in India.
Like I said, other than journalists, social activists or even opposition political leaders, even joking has become a crime in the largest democracy of the world. With me, I have three special guests, who joke but whilst joking, talk about such serious issues that people like us – political science students and political commentators – might find it difficult to say.
Perhaps this is the reason that even humour has become hurtful to our ruling class, to our political parties. I have three special guests with me – Sanjay Rajoura, who is a satirist and political commentator; Agrima Joshua, who is a commentator – I would call her not a political commentator but a commentator who explains politics through comedy; and I also have with me, a newcomer in the field, Parvez Hassan, whose video I saw today and decided that he must come and talk on our platform and tell us what the new talent, the young blood, feels about this situation.
Sanjay, you are the most experienced in this field, hence I’d like to start this discussion with you. Is the situation of political commentary along with comedy, or satirical comedy fast becoming dangerous in India? Have people like you become daredevils?
Sanjay Rajoura: This is precisely the situation for satire. A perfect world has no place for satire. If everything’s fine, justice is being meted out, everyone has their rights then no one needs satire. The current situation – of scarcity of thought, of mind, of love – is what is perfect for satire. It is a breeding ground [for satire].
The more the situation becomes like this, the more refined satire emerges. This is a given. What happens is that when you are told ‘do not talk about X or Y’, then it becomes a sort of a responsibility of satire to refine its language in such a way that it says what it wants to. This is not the first time it is happening in the world.
Wherever satire has flourished in the world, this has happened. Such a situation has been created and has led to the emergence of beautiful satire. And this will continue to happen in the future. Neither is satire going to die, nor will there ever be a perfect world where there is no place for satire. So such things will continue to happen and satire would also continue.
Arfa Khanum Sherwani: When you see people like Munawar Faruqui being attacked…I read reports of people at the cafe who said that he had been talking for only four-five minutes. Neither did he make any derogatory remarks about any Hindu gods, nor did he talk about any politician. He hadn’t even begun talking, he hadn’t even said anything, his show hadn’t properly begun, but he was immediately attacked. Many people are saying that this attack was because of Munawar’s Muslim identity.
Sanjay Rajoura: It’s possible that his identity had a role to play. A few months ago, Agrima witnessed the storm that rose up against stand-up comedians, which engulfed everyone, including Hindus. Agrima is a Christian herself. Hindus too were targeted. Obviously, his Muslim identity made it easier [for the mob] to target him. The more important thing for me is that if you disagree with what someone [a comedian] says – and I’m not saying that you cannot disagree…and it’s completely fair…you can disagree with what someone says – then don’t go there [to the comedian’s set]!
And if what someone is saying has hurt your sentiments, then there is a whole procedure for that in law. You may go and follow the procedure. Later, the courts will decide the matter. Arresting or catching hold of someone by yourself is a new process. It’s not in our law, it’s a new process. Instead of questions… I mean I agree that he is Muslim…however, equally important is the question that is this process a new norm? A mob catches hold of someone and says ‘I don’t like what you are saying, I’ll send you to jail’. Is this new norm fair?
Henceforth is this what is going to be followed? Discussing these questions, too, is equally important. Like I said, a few months ago everyone was targeted. Everything is getting mixed – the majority’s authoritarianism, minority’s persecution and in addition to this, mob mentality, the collapse of law and order and this whole idea that you cannot question the government. All of these have come together to create a certain kind of monster that will bite the same people back. Make no mistake about that. The snake will eat its own tail one day. It has happened before.
So those people…they are part of that mob who were against Agrima or others, they have even been against me. Actually, these people are victims themselves. They feel that there is power in being the mob, but if one sees…see, Arfa, I always give this example: when the Babri Masjid was demolished in 1992, the moral legitimacy to raze it was given in the living rooms of people like us. We used to have discussions that said yes, the mosque should be felled. Middle-class, upper-middle class people used to discuss this over tea and snacks.
But eventually, who demolished the mosque? None of these people went to demolish it. The person who neither had anything to eat, nor a job, nor a future, nor even any security, went to demolish it. That’s what a foot soldier is. Similarly, those who are foot soldiers currently… maybe one or two might have political connections but a majority would be those who are victims of the system. And this system is so cunning that it makes its victims do its tasks.
This is the pattern of all exploitative systems. So, this monster has been created because of the aggregation of all these things. Has this monster now become the norm should be a question which is equally important to the question of whether Munawar is Hindu or Muslim. And this monster will surely eat its victim too, one day. It’s a Frankenstein monster. It’s not going to go away without devouring it’s own victim.
One last thing that I would like to say. As a comic, if anything that I have said hurts someone, I have two options: one, do I have to foster enmity towards that person? Or do I have to make him talk to me and tell him that it is your story that I am narrating. I don’t have the first option. I don’t want to foster enmity. The second thing can be done only in a way that one says what one wants to so that it reaches that person. Sometimes it can be shortcomings of language, because of which we are not able to speak in his language. But ultimately, this is what should happen. We don’t have to fight him.
Arfa Khanum Sherwani: Absolutely. We don’t have to fight them and we have to understand their psychology. Another small question that I want to ask before I turn to the other panelists is: this politics – we see now a Muslim boy cannot marry a Hindu girl, love jihad is being brought into this; saffron flags are being raised in front of Taj Mahal; money is being asked for in the name of temples, processions are being carried out in front of mosques and dargahs…this very mob that goes and stops Munawar Faruqui saying that he cannot even make a comment. Is this is an extension of that same mob? Is this the same ideology?
Sanjay Rajoura: Yes, it is very much the same ideology. It is an extension of majoritarianism that…Hindu Rashtra is not a part of the constitution. There are other religions too and all of them have the same equal rights. The discourse that you cannot separate the country from Hindutva is a new pattern. And this new pattern is arriving… it has arrived in many parts of the world in the past but its consequences have to be reaped.
And the consequences will not only be reaped for you, me, Agrima and Parvez to reap. The consequences will be reaped by all those who have brought this. I am not prophecising this, whoever has read history has seen that consequences have to be reaped by everyone and it is to avoid a situation of those consequences that people like journalists, filmmakers, writers, activists or stand-up comics – such voices must be raised. Attempts are being made to suppress them because it is uncomfortable for those in power. But actually this is hurting everyone.
Arfa Khanum Sherwani: Agrima, you’re one of those comedians who in a way have been at the receiving end. When you decided to pursue comedy and made politics a subject of it did you ever think that….and this is a big irony – on one hand, a serious subject and on the other, comedy. When did you realise that we became so thin-skinned that now we can’t tolerate a small joke? Everything offends our religion culture and our society.
Agrima Joshua: Firstly, I would like to clarify that whenever somebody enters [the field of] stand-up comedy, we don’t think that we will do comedy on a particular topic, that we will make jokes on politics or that satire will become our entire personality. We talk about what we think is funny. And as far as politics is concerned, you’d also realise that a lot of times, young people talk like this. Those who are much older, much more knowledgeable than me say that the personal is political.
If you think about it, my entire existence is political. Because I am a minority in Uttar Pradesh. I am not the typical Goan, Catholic, English-speaking Christian. I’m a Christian from Uttar Pradesh. I’ve explored my entire background through my comedy. I crack jokes about things personal to me – about my personal relationships. During that if some political issue is raised, then immediately people say that she is a political commentator, she’s doing political satire and why can’t she stick to jokes.
But you make jokes about what you find funny. And if you read today’s news headlines you would definitely laugh at them sometimes. You do feel like laughing at the GDP figures. So it’s just about what you find funny. And you’ll only crack jokes on the topic that is relevant. You won’t make fun of the government of four or five years ago. We took out a funeral procession for them!
You may see AIB’s video. There is a proper funeral of the Indian National Congress carried out by all the boys [of AIB]. All I am saying is that we make fun of those people that are relevant, who should be talked about. Nobody thinks that I would do political comedy, this would be my subject before doing that. It’s not like you will talk about yourself your personal experiences – whatever personal problems you want to talk about. So, according to me there’s no comedian on the Indian political scene who’s not political. Generally. I’d like to clarify that.
Arfa Khanum Sherwani: You put this very wonderfully. Those people who are deciding for us… and I would even go to the extent of saying that they have made a joke out of 130 crore people. Those people should definitely be talked about. Where there is power, their would be responsibility and there will be accountability. And demanding these answers… there are various ways in which we do that.
Parvez Hassan tell me, just now, Agrima Joshua said that she’s a minority, she lives in a hostile state. Did you also feel like this when you were doing stand-up comedy? I was watching your videos, and you talk about your identity and the problems and the difficulties you face because of that identity. You transformed that into humour. So did this identity hurt you first and then you decided if you want talk about it? How did you feel? I would also want to know, what was the reaction of the audience?
Parvez Hassan: So I was saying that I definitely include my personal experiences. For example, in one video, I’m talking about how we think of Muslims as terrorists. If a bearded man is sitting with a bag, one gets scared that the bag holds a bomb in it. That kind of thing has happened in the last 10-20 years. Although I am a Muslim but I don’t know that. It’s just something that people say that I am a Muslim. I’m just a human being. So, I too sometimes feel afraid of people like that. Because it’s been put in our heads to not trust such people. So, that’s why I wrote that thing. I think that’s what I was trying to convey in that set.
Arfa Khanum Sherwani: You also mentioned how you made a joke out of your Muslim identity. Did you feel that sentiments of Muslims could be hurt by this? How did the majority – the Hindu population – receive this? I saw many people laugh when you joked about your identity being conflated with that of a terrorist.
Parvez Hassan: There was that satire behind it. I am portraying myself as being at risk but my intention was to convey that that’s how people portray us…that’s what people conceive of us. I tried to convey how people see us. Ultimately, some people understand this, some don’t. The same thing happens in YouTube comments. Some say ‘wow, said the right thing about yourself’. Some say, ‘we understand what you go through’. There are both kinds of people. I think it depends on how the viewer perceives it. So, I think it’s a mix.
Arfa Khanum Sherwani: In that clip of yours, Parvez, there was a certain discomfort. You expressed that discomfort through satire. Maybe you took it as a joke but there can be a lot of people who have to go through these troubles because of their identity.
Tell me, when you’re preparing your script or when you decide to go in front of an audience, does it occupy your mind since you are a Muslim, you cannot talk about Hindu gods, about Hindu culture? Or that in the current scenario, I should be careful? Do these thoughts occupy your mind?
Parvez Hassan: Yes, definitely. All of this does occupy my mind. Since my name is Parvez, I know that [what happened to] Munawar might happen [to me too]…if I talk about Hindu gods or make jokes on Hinduism. I might intend it as a joke but people will not take it so. They will see it as a Muslim man mocking them [Hindus]. So, that occupies the mind.
Generally, we try… generally, none of us intend to mock. There is always a story behind it…always a reason behind why one wants to talk about it. So, we try to balance it. We joke about Islam. We joke about Christianity – Agrima too, jokes about Christianity. It’s just that people don’t see it. One 20 second clip about Hindu gods goes viral and based on it a controversy erupts.
Arfa Khanum Sherwani: And it’s also important to clarify here that it’s not that the Hindu community alone that is very sensitive and gets offended at the slightest mention of Hindu gods. Many followers of Islam that I have seen, too, are very sensitive. Maybe even more sensitive. Whether it comes to drawing cartoons or something else, they bring in the religious aspects.
But Agrima, the difference is if those in power are this sensitive, then the police, investigators, courts support that sensitivity and bullying. I want to take the example of Pakistan. The blasphemy law in Pakistan is mostly used against Hindu or Christian minorities. Do you feel that even in India, this unwritten rule or informally, this sort of a blasphemy can be seen?
Agrima Joshua: The law on hurting religious sentiments [says it] is a non-bailable offence. That is how important that law is. That is the importance that was given to that law. That is the level of regard given to religious sentiments of people. And now the same law is being used to censor those voices of people that expose those occupying power. The jokes that comedians crack are on the government’s failures. We are not going to become yes-men for the government. That’s Godi media’s job. It’s not something we do.
We will point those things out where the government is failing. There is a pattern to the comedians who have been attacked. You may see their social media, their Twitter and the jokes they crack. There is a pattern – they make fun of the government. The government is not made up of gods and goddesses. People always ask me why am I against God and I always want to reply by asking when did our government become gods?
None of us comedians are stupid enough to mock or say anything disrespectful about anyone’s gods or goddesses in a country as sensitive as India. Although even if someone does, then, according to me, they should have the permission to say it.
Arfa Khanum Sherwani: Sanjay, I want to ask that is it the job of a satirist to constantly expand the boundaries of freedom of expression, of what can and cannot be said? Is it is the satirist’s job to test people sensitivities? Do you think those things that hurt people, too should be said to expand boundaries?
And secondly, like Agrima said, since when did politicians, ministers, the prime minister, our ruling class… when did they become gods? Do you think that the job of democratic institutions – to protect freedom of expression, like in the case of Munawar, when the case against him was brought to it, the court should have struck it down immediately. He wouldn’t have been sent to judicial custody and maybe we wouldn’t be having this debate today.
Do you think that while satirists are trying to extend these boundaries, our democratic institutions – and especially courts – are not playing the role they should?
Sanjay Rajoura: I will come to the courts later, first I’d like to talk about the comedian’s job. The task of any art form is to constantly push the boundaries. Culturally, a society evolves only when it pushes its boundaries. This includes every art form – cinema, literature, street theatre, normal [sic] theatre, music. Their task is to constantly push the envelope. Are comedians doing their job is a complicated question.
Personally…other than one or two, I am not familiar with stand-up comedy. I don’t watch it very much. I am not that interested, not because they’re not good but because my humour is a bit underdeveloped and I don’t have a lot of interest in it anyway. Are comedians pushing the envelope is a question similar to… see, I’ve held that that if stand-up comedy is trying to hold up a mirror to society, who is holding up a mirror to stand up comedians? When people say that the opposition is paying you money, you’re just making up stories and all that sort of thing, I reply by saying that I am a story too.
I am narrating a story of my life and I have the right to talk about whatever is happening in my life. If that hurts your feelings and sentiments, then then you should ask yourself why does whatever has happened to this person hurt my feelings? Secondly, who is holding up a mirror to stand up comedian? Who is doing this meta-comedy that stands above stand-up comedians, and doing comedy on them.
You’ll see most of the comics are from urban centres; [they are] upper caste comics. Their sensibility towards caste dynamics and caste discrimination is almost negligible. They’re all caste agnostic. I’ve seen on multiple occasions, in urban centres, because of their caste ignorance, stand-up comics say such things that hurt my and probably several others’ sentiments too. But when my sentiments are hurt, I don’t take that comic to jail.
I don’t say that ‘he hurt my sentiments, charge him under Section 295A’. By the way, Pakistan’s blasphemy section too is the same – 295A. The British left that for us. Are comedians pushing the envelope? They would have to do it in all directions. If you talk about only religion… first of all, I don’t believe that it is possible to mock any God. Everyone has a personal relationship with God. I don’t have it, I am an atheist and I have the right to be one.
It’s not possible to mock any God because that’s your personal relationship with God! I can never know it. It’s possible to make fun of human interaction with the idea of God. If that’s what is being made fun of, what is being referred to, it doesn’t mean God is being mocked. He’ll take care of his own self, he doesn’t need you. God is probably saying #NotInMyName. He’s saying I can take care of my own self.
It is true that this country has so many fault lines that… we see only two or four fault lines but if you look at it, the fault lines of caste are as deep as of gender. Those fault lines too should be talked about by the stand-up comedians. That envelope too should be pushed by stand-up comedians. Only then will I consider – I’m not saying that I am an authority on this – but only then will I say that comics are pushing the envelope for the cultural evolution of the society, of the collective conscience of society. It’s important to use this word.
Arfa Khanum Sherwani: That’s a lovely thought, Sanjay. One last question that I would like to put to Agrima and Parvez. Parvez, I’d like to know from you that as a new satirist, as a new stand-up comic, do you feel that this atmosphere is not safe? Anyone can attack me, maybe someone gets up from the audience to attack me. Does the thought of physical threat or the threat of being jailed occur to you?
Parvez Hassan: Personally, I haven’t faced it during my live shows. Normally, what happens is that such people are those who watch videos on YouTube. The audience of comedy clubs usually has a sense of humour. Unless, like [those who attacked] Munawar, who specially bought a ticket to attack him.
But yes, while uploading the video, such thoughts occur to me. Some said don’t put this joke in, don’t put that joke in. But I didn’t listen to them. I put it anyway. The video didn’t get too popular. I wasn’t beaten up. Luckily. Perhaps if the video became popular, I would have felt afraid for the future. But, yes, I am afraid while uploading videos on YouTube; what to put, what to not.
We see that comedians in the West are very evolved. They can talk about religion freely, even politics. People don’t take offence easily or at least, they don’t come to attack you. With us, like you said in the beginning, even Muslims are too sensitive. My tragedy was different. I was assuming that Muslims will be ready to take those jokes, but the opposite happened. So instead of the West, we are becoming the Middle East. The tragedy is, we can’t joke on anyone now. We have to think a lot before cracking jokes.
Arfa Khanum Sherwani: Taj Mahal too has a religion today. Taj Mahal too has become Muslim, where saffron flags have to be planted on it to show ownership. Agrima, we live in such a conservative society that for a woman, her life is limited to the kitchen and giving birth to children. In such times, there is a whole new wave of women who are talking very openly about sexuality, sexual relations, extramarital relations, pre-marital relations.
I was observing that there is a wave of women who make jokes about orgasms and sexual needs. Do you think these women are breaking the barricades?
Agrima Joshua: I like how I get the orgasm question. But what you are saying Arfa, that women are pushing the envelope…that despite the gender bias, they are talking about what they want to…for years, out of my fear – and I’d like to talk about my personal experience – for many years, I did not put my video on YouTube. Because I feared that many male comedians and male audience would come and say to me that ‘why does this girl always talks about sex, relationships and indecent things to become popular?’.
So, the first video that I put instead was called ‘UP is the Texas of India’. Today that video is banned. That entire video was about my background and a small part of it was political, on the Uttar Pradesh government. Fights have broken out over that video too. The Habitat was vandalised because of that video.
I have received rape threats. If you are a woman, no matter what you say, you will have to face the music. Whatever you may want to talk about; whatever personal experiences you want to talk about, whenever a woman is talking… you may watch clips of all stand-up comedians, it’s not as if the male comedians are talking about all things holy and pious. They use profane words. It’s not necessary to use profane words in punch lines but in order to express themselves, they’ve explored all kinds of topics. There’s a very popular male comedian, one of his videos is called ‘Sex and Old People’.
Sanjay Rajoura: Who is it? Give us names
Agrima Joshua: Hah!…He’s talking about how the elderly keep lecturing youngsters against sex. A male comedian is talking about all this. If a female comedian talks about the same thing, immediately four-five boys on YouTube will…there’s a whole genre of comedy on YouTube where 20-22 year old boys say ‘all women do on YouTube is crack jokes on indecent things’. We’re even told that it’s not funny!
Arfa Khanum Sherwani: Freedom of expression…it is said that the more you exercise your freedom and rights, the more they are granted to you, the more they progress. All four of us on this panel have perhaps been victims of that majoritarianism, of that same mentality that relentlessly attacks the idea of India. We all hope that Munawar Faruqui is granted bail very soon and returns back to stand-up comedy.
Heard any good ones lately? The last time someone asked that, many of us would have reached defensively for our cell phones – the 21st century’s humour crutch – to read out or WhatsApp a joke.
Nobody tells jokes anymore, like they did when I was younger. Instead, jokes and even humour, to a large extent have almost entirely been outsourced to cyberspace, from whence they are conveyed, facelessly, for momentary amusement and onward transmission, like numerous other contemporary aspects of our humdrum existence. That’s all.
And though fleetingly mirthful, these jokes remain impersonal – essentially, a dehumanised utilitarian endeavour that excludes the tone, tenor, body language and drama that normally accompanies good (and at times, even the not-so-good) joke telling. Without doubt, it robs the intended boisterous outcome of the pitch, spectacle, warmth and human connection that personally narrated jokes invariably evoke.
Impersonally e-mailing jokes or disbursing them via social network platforms is, in a sense, simply opting for the easier, more practical and lazier amusement option. Even stand-up comedy is a poor substitute, a part of the subcontracting syndrome, in a world where at a personal level we are increasingly becoming more dour than droll, more worshipful than irreverential.
It’s an indisputable fact that as a people most Indians tend to take themselves far too seriously, hobbled by caution; which is why gratification or enjoyment in any form, including jokes, remains sinful and iniquitous. And, then there is always that karmic caveat we all grow up with: if you laugh too much, providence will make you cry in equal measure.
Such inherent deterrence, combined with our increasingly overwrought, politically correct, uptight and self-obsessed milieu – discounting for the moment the ongoing coronavirus pandemic – has brought us to a juncture where most people have taken to wilfully gagging the gag.
It’s almost as if jokes and humour in our drawing rooms, cafes and addas around the country, are rapidly and ironically morphing into “a German joke”, which, as Mark Twain said, “was no laughing matter”.
Besides, unimpeded laughter, from the belly upwards, too, is decidedly frowned upon in polite company, and from being the norm in yesteryears, such welcome jollity is fast becoming the exception. These days, many of us often ask, or are in turn asked: Heard any good ones lately? None, is the standard answer. But in an apologetic effort at deliverance and one-upmanship, many of us reach defensively for our cell phones to read out a joke or WhatsApp it to our inquisitor – from what has undeniably emerged as the 21st century’s humour crutch.
Regrettably, this swelling robotic syndrome has put paid to those raucous, thigh slapping guffaw sessions, accompanied by shrieks and high fives, in which bawdy and lesser-rollicking jokes and irreverent tales surged freely, years earlier. As an ageing humourist put it, those extravagant reactions were akin to the explosive release of the contents of a pre-shaken soda water bottle. They were not only therapeutic and salutary, but, even years later, hugely memorable.
A plethora of hilarious jokes from innumerable get-togethers in my youth, especially in Punjabi – a robust language that effortlessly lends itself to this purpose – still remain iconic and incredibly amusing. Most were embellished by generations of irreverent and wicked Punjabis, each one adding quirky, kinky and delectable twists. A large proportion of these jokes had imaginative plots, complete with shades of perceptive social commentary, making them both a delight to recount and to listen to.
However, then and now, the joke teller’s narration skills is critical to this jocular enterprise.
A proficient narrator will casually, but calculatedly, induce his or her audience into suspending disbelief as they picturise the unfolding maze of action, before delivering the coup de grace, either with quiet finesse, or a dramatic, action-packed flourish.
Innocently ensnaring audiences into a labyrinth of seeming mundanity before delivering the clincher is the endeavour of all accomplished joke narrators. But for this to work, timing remains essential, and the greater the narrators’ mastery over it, the more effective the outcome.
In this context, it’s apposite to recall The King’s Speech, the delightful British historical film from 2010 about Prince Albert – later King George VI – who has an embarrassing stutter and hires Lionel Logue, an Australian speech therapist, to overcome it.
In the course of trying to make the prince feel at ease, before he gets down to eventually working on ridding the British royal of his impediment, Logue ask him if at all he tells jokes to his friends. “NNNNot rrreallly”, stammers the prospective king, “MMMMY ttttiming is a bbbit ooofff,” only re-affirming that execution and performance in effective joke-telling is imperative. Too little and it falls flat; too much and it overshoots. The secret, and not an easy one to crack, is to get it just right, which needless to state, is an art.
This dirge for jokes, and nostalgia for the halcyon days of jocularity, assuredly demands the telling of some old favourites. However, The Wire being a family website, precludes some classic lusty Punjabi tales, which for want of a better definition have universally been prudishly labelled ‘non-vegetarian’.
However, one of the perennial ‘vegetarian’ favourites that I remember – and there are numerous versions of it – involves the moon-landing by Neil Armstrong. After taking a small step for man and a giant one for mankind onto the pitted moon surface, the American astronaut comes upon a Sardarji tying his turban.
The astounded Armstrong, understandably miffed at being pipped to the moon by a sardar, asks how long ago had he arrived.
Partition de baad (After the Partition of India and Pakistan), came the matter-of-fact reply.
Though decades old, this joke has not lost its capacity to amuse, or at least prompt a smile from both the teller and listener. To somewhat intellectualise the point, the joke encapsulates the history of millions of Sikhs who fled Pakistan after Partition for the remotest of places in their entrepreneurial quest for a new life in which, over seven decades later, they succeeded beyond belief.
Without doubt, Sikhs are to be found everywhere; so why not the moon? It’s simple, self-effacing and fanciful logic, but above all it’s unquestioningly hilarious and compelling.
The other story is set in the 1970s.
It features two Punjabis who own Volkswagen Beetlesl which at the time were the trendiest set of wheels all swingers owned. One of them lived in Delhi and the other in Amritsar, and not having seen their respective Beetles, or each other, they decided to meet halfway one Sunday at Puran Singh’s dhaba in Ambala, for lunch.
Simultaneously they set off early in the morning from their individual towns, and a few hours later the one driving in from Delhi arrives outside the Ambala dhaba, but suddenly his Beetle dies on him.
Irritated and desperate, he tries frantically to gun the engine, but to no avail. He gets out and opens the Beetle’s front, only to find it empty.
Gobsmacked, he is looking into this void when his friend from Amritsar drives up, and with a flourish, parks his Beetle and hops out. The customary jhappis follow, after which the Beetle owner from Amritsar asks his visibly upset friend what the problem is with his Bug.
Problem, he says, it’s a vada syapa (big disaster). I’ve been driving my Beetle for six months and now I discover it does not even have an engine, he fulminates.
Bhape, his friend consolingly tells him, “tenu patta nahi German gaddi reputation te chall de hai (Don’t you know, German cars run on reputation.)”
“Pur tu fikar na kaar (But don’t’ you worry,)” he comfortingly adds in the clincher to the yarn; “I have a spare engine in my Beetle’s boot which you can have.”
Once again, the tale incorporates innumerable strands centered round the classic Beetle that was without doubt, the 20th century’s most popular car, identified with an entire generation of trendies through the 1960s and 70s. The joke ingeniously uses the rear-engined car with its trunk in front, with a ludicrousness that is ingenious.
But then again, this tale too has numerous embellishments, many of which have become victim to political correctness which, over the past few decades, has dealt a death blow to humour from which it is unlikely to ever recover.
The rustic and risqué jokes of that era fostered a certain kind of human bonding, allowing us to process and reflect on our changing world and values. They also helped alleviate the obstacle-ridden grind of daily living, confirming the adage that life is so much easier with a sense of humour. It’s simply not funny, not having one.
One thing that makes the current situation unique is that it is not a single event in a specific place and time. Humour is a coping strategy.
According to an old adage , “comedy is tragedy plus time”. This has been true for many terrible events, when after periods of shock and sadness, humour and laughter are eventually restored.
But the current pandemic seems different. People haven’t stopped joking about it. Memes and funny videos are all over social media, even while an increasing number of people across the world get sick and die. So why is this happening? Why is there no gap between the disaster and the humour created around it?
One thing that makes the current situation unique is that it is not a single event in a specific place and time. It is a rolling and continuous crisis, spreading endlessly across continents with no end in sight. The shock factor is therefore reduced compared to a single terror attack, for example. This enables people to adjust more easily to what is happening – and humour may be one of the best ways to do just that.
Of course, many people will feel uncomfortable laughing in these dire times, especially if they know someone who has been directly affected. But for others, it is not only acceptable to use humour in the face of the pandemic – it may even be a necessity.
Obviously, we do not laugh at the tragedy itself, the victims of the virus or the people who are suffering from it. But we can take aim at the seemingly absurd situation we are all in.
This is because from a psychological point of view, humour is a great defence mechanism which helps us deal with emotionally challenging situations, especially ones which are overwhelming and unpredictable. Many cancer patients and their doctors, for example, routinely tell jokes and laugh about the disease, in an attempt to cope and distract themselves from the serious situation.
Coping strategy
On top of this, the unique circumstances surrounding the pandemic may make humour more prevalent, not less.
First, many people now have an unusual amount of time on our hands. Being stuck at home with not much to do forces people to find ways to be more creative. And while the situation is serious, in our daily activities we are mostly preoccupied with more mundane tasks, such as what to do all day, how to entertain children, how not to eat too much, and how to stay sane in general.
Second, being a bit scared, tense, and in a state of alert is actually a good thing for humour to develop. These states of physiological and emotional arousal serve as driving forces in creating and enjoying humour.
Usually, intermediate levels of arousal are best. With too little, you are bored, and with too much, you are too excited to enjoy humour. Right in the middle is perfect. The laughter after hearing a good joke serves as a release of all the physiological and emotional energy that was built up, and that’s what makes us feel good.
Another important element of humour that is prominent during the pandemic is what humour researchers call “incongruity”. For something to be funny, there needs to be something odd or surprising in the situation. The current situation reveals plenty of such oddities.
Here is a joke that illustrates the point: “All this time I thought that the tumble dryer was shrinking my clothes. Turns out it was actually the refrigerator.”
The joke is built on the unusual circumstances we live in, of being stuck at home. The setup is the common knowledge that the heat of a tumble dryer can shrink clothes, but then there is a surprise. It’s not the dryer at fault, but the refrigerator, where we store our food. We resolve this incongruity by realising that we are getting fatter from eating too much when we are at home. This resolution gives as the “Aha!” moment that makes the joke funny. (And yes, analysing a joke does ruin it.)
So, while humour may not get us out of this awful crisis, it can help us deal with it. We cannot change the reality of the disease or the economic impact, but we can try and change how we feel about it.
By creating and sharing humour we can cope better, and ease some of the tension due to the pandemic. That way, we can have at least some control of the situation. And what better way to do that than by having a good laugh?
Jokes and satire can build resilience but also spread misinformation as people don’t always know what is trustworthy and what is just funny.
Almost immediately after the first case of COVID-19 was confirmed in South Africa, the jokes started. From memes featuring prominent politicians to bad puns, from TikTok video clips to pictures of people posing with silly home-made protective gear, South Africans took to Twitter, WhatsApp and Facebook to make fun of the virus.
It is not unusual for South Africans to make jokes about their many problems, from former President Jacob Zuma’s legacy of alleged grand corruption, known as state capture, to the regular power blackouts caused by ongoing crises at the national power utility Eskom. Cartoonists never seem to have a shortage of material.
Online jokes, memes and video clips are of course not peculiar to South Africa. The increased accessibility of a growing range of social media platforms and editing tools have made it possible for media users around the world to create and interact with news topics in ever more creative ways. Yet it is remarkable how, in a country like South Africa with its multitude of serious challenges, media users often take to jokes rather than despair when presented with a new problem.
Why is humour so often the first port of call when South African media users find themselves in stormy seas? There may be various socio-cultural, political and psychological reasons for this.
Socio-cultural reasons
There is an established body of academic literature about the important role of gossip, jokes, rumour and satire in African politics and societies.
In his landmark article, the historian and human rights activist Stephen Ellis described the phenomenon of “pavement radio”, or radio trottoir, that can be found across Africa. This phenomenon is underpinned by the widespread oral tradition characteristic of these societies.
Ellis defines this form of communication as
the popular and unofficial discussion of current affairs.
Unlike the press, television or radio, this
is not controlled by any identifiable individual, institution or group of people.
Pavement radio is not to be mistaken for ordinary, unverified rumours or gossip, but performs a social and political function. Its subject matter are issues of public interest about which there has not been an official announcement, or where official information cannot be trusted.
Humour also helps build community. For example, popular South African tabloids have established a fiercely loyal readership with their stories of the supernatural, the silly or the absurd alongside a strong commitment to the community interest. Tabloid readers integrate their newspaper reading practices with storytelling, sharing and communal interpretation of newspaper content.
These practices illustrate how the conviviality of African societies also influence their media use. Similarly, joking about the coronavirus may be a way for people to say ‘it is all very absurd, but we’re in this together’.
Political reasons
Pavement radio thrives when the mainstream media are tightly controlled by the authorities, or where there is widespread distrust in official narratives.
South Africans enjoy a much higher degree of media freedom than they used to. But during apartheid, alternative media and underground information networks often provided more trusted channels of communication than the compliant mainstream media, or propaganda issued on the state broadcaster.
Widespread corruption in post-apartheid South Africa has not done much to improve citrizens’ respect for official narratives. They know what it feels like to be lied to.
Research has shown that young South Africans in particular are distrustful of politicians and political institutions. And political disillusionment with the current government and feelings of frustration have also proven to be fertile ground for rumours and conspiracy theories that provide more plausible explanations of people’s current circumstances than political, economic or scientific authorities.
The “sceptical laughter” evoked by popular culture is a way of poking fun at authority, undermining the power of politicians or big corporates.
In some of the jokes about the coronavirus it’s clear that South Africans are laughing – perhaps nervously – at the government’s promises that it has everything under control. The news that the first confirmed patient returned to South Africa from a ski holiday unleashed jokes about the racial profile of the disease. Joking about rich jetsetters becoming infected or making fun of African remedies and responses, may be a way to take the sting out of racial inequality and economic hierarchies.
Psychological reasons
Laughter and humour could be used as a coping mechanism. Media coverage of COVID-19 can stoke fear and panic through their choice of words (“killer virus”) or images (scary microscopic virus pictures, empty shelves in supermarkets). The sheer stream of reporting and daily tally of the infected and the dead can also be overwhelming and confusing.
Given the various other risks that South Africans have to contend with on a daily basis, making jokes about this added thing to worry about may help to take the sting out of the new, unknown threat.
Several jokes on Twitter named these other threats, as a reminder that while COVID-19 is serious, the other concerns should not be lost from sight. For instance, a jibe about the coronavirus having to show its proof of residence at the port of entry hinted at the high levels of violent xenophobia in South Africa.
Humour in this context is a way of showing resilience and agency. Although some Twitter users remarked that the humorous tone might still change when the seriousness of the disease hits home, the jokes largely had an optimistic tone. As one person posted on Twitter:
We did it with Ebola, we did it with Listeriosis, we did it with Boko Haram, we definitely will did (sic) it with #CoronavirusinSA can I get an Amen!
The Ronas is here to wipe us out but at least we will die laughing.
The downside
Unfortunately, the prevalence of jokes and satire can also spread misinformation, as audiences don’t always know what information to trust and what to just laugh about. Research in Africa shows very high levels of exposure to misinformation.
This is a cause for concern in the current COVID-19 epidemic.
And this is why it’s important to take popular culture seriously. If we understand how people use media in their everyday life, or how they use humour to allay their fears, it is easier to find appropriate responses to those concerns. The fight against the “infodemic” of misinformation cannot be won by only insisting on fact-checking and rational debate.
In Africa, the role of humour and jokes in everyday popular culture is deadly serious.
