Hail Humility

Breathtaking. February was indeed a month where cupid played games on Delhi’s political terra firma. Wonder why the media couldn’t predict Delhi’s affair with the Mufflerman. But the media is always right, always number one, and always sabse tez. They aren’t answerable to anyone. So, what really happened? More importantly, why did the politically aware Delhi-ite fall for the fish rather than the fishing rod?
Given that we are wiser after an election, fingers are being pointed at Modi’s vanity, Bedi’s senility, Kejriwal’s humility, Sonia’s divinity, Rahul’s naivety, Sadhvi’s crudity and Amit Shah’s obesity. Well, only for the lack of another rhyming word. According to unreliable sources, here are a few lessons in wooing the voter.

Cute Quotient

Whether it was cute Raghav Chadha, polite Yogendra Yadav or oh-sho sweet Atishi Marlena, television viewers loved the breath of fresh air after tolerating fetid fumes emanating from conceited spokespersons. It is now amusing to watch BJP and Congress spokespersons dressed in a cloak of humility, addressing each other as ‘my respected opponent'. All because arrogance led to the fall of Humpty Dumpty. From what the sources reveal, Congress is in talks with Alia Bhatt to up the cute quotient on television debates. Of course, these lessons in humility and cuteness are not for the soft spoken Derek O’Brien or his affable leader.

Mush Mush 

Image: Twitter

 One of the abiding images in the aftermath of the unprecedented win was the picture where Arvind was seen hugging his wife. When he embraced his demure wife in a fit of joy, it made for poignant viewing. The entire social media went ‘Awww’. Ever since, politicians are being asked to hold hands of their spouses, caress their hair, or play with kids to create an image of a caring leader. By any measure, this is not to say that future CMs should be seen locking lips in public. Err, no. That would be a bit too much for our sanskriti to swallow. Quick to course correct, Modi ji was seen playing with Mulayam’s grandson at a family wedding. So much for image building. Or the budget session. Whatever.

Two-Outfit Theory

Our IIT-ian made sure that he wore only two sweaters – wine red and navy blue. Consequently, some politicians have decided to wear only two outfits during the election season. Poor guys, they don’t know that Arvind owns a dozen similar looking red and blue sweaters. This was a well guarded secret known only to Shazia Filmi. However, puncturing this theory, an analyst from West Bengal has warned that the positive political dividends of crumpled clothes and bathroom slippers are ephemeral. They should not be seen in isolation.

Those Who Live In Glass Houses…

It was funny when Mr. Unaccounted Money Bags asked AAP about that hundred rupee note. Just as it was hilarious when the Congress questioned Modi about his suit. What is it that they say about glass houses and throwing stones? The rules of the game have changed.

No Privileges, No Full Page Adverts

After our Kaushambi boy made a strong pitch against Lal Batti, some politicians have decided to attend a rehab centre to learn to give up the red light and other privileges. There are talks of replacing luxury cars with rickety Wagon Rs to strike the right notes. Won’t be difficult because who wants a Lal Batti on a Wagon R?
Politicians are God’s gift to mankind. But unlike our Tamil counterparts, Delhi-ites, it seems are repulsed by full page advertisement displaying a politician’s picture. No, thank you. We’d rather drool over pictures of a filmy award ceremony. 

Reality vs Humility

 
That Delhi belongs to Dil-wallas was obvious when they forgave Arvind for all his bumbling. Recognizing the power of humility and apology, Nitish Kumar began on the right note when he thanked all those present at his swearing-in ceremony. The good learner that he is, he is now ready to hug his alleged communal tormentor. Unreliable ssources reveal that Ajay Maken has ordered loads of ‘I’m Sorry’ cards to be hand delivered personally with the message, ‘Sincere apologies from a very small man’. 

A week, they say is a long time in politics. Even as I write, AAPs credibility is at stake owing to one mans egocentricity. Who said it is easy to wear a cap of humility in unstable polity. The cap either doesn’t fit or keeps falling unceremoniously. Such is reality.

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Different Folks, Different Jokes

My son is laughing at a video where people on the beach get showered with gull poop after some teen’s feed laxative laced chips to the unsuspecting sea gulls.
“What’s funny?” I ask. “Think of the dehydrated birds?”
“C’mon. It’s only a prank.”
Going by Karan Johar’s advice, ‘Not your cup of tea, don’t drink it’ I close the video. But an anonymous comment on the video stays with me. “Brilliant. I’m going to try this.”
I feel like a preachy mother who doesn’t know how to laugh. Because ‘funny’ videos showing a toddler flying off the swing and falling with a thud also appall me. Does age have something to do with humor? As Aamir says, “I am not a 14 year old who can laugh at cuss words.” 

Whether it was Bollywood or Twitter, the jokes at the AIB Knockout confused many and divided many more. As it happens, when a controversy hatches, some opinionated voices on the internet begin to shout so loudly that they refuse to listen to any disagreement. Consequently, the rational voices, afraid of being lynched on social media emerge after some sanity is restored. Funny, but the opposite happens in real life where religious moral minders are the first to flex muscles.

Humor is subjective. What is funny for me can be silly for you. So Aamir is a hypocrite when he objects to the roast and Ranbir is ‘cool’ because he is all for it. Twinkle is even better when she says she is more offended by Arnab Goswami than the AIB roast. Good. But what if Ranbir is simply pandering to his young fans? Would Ranbir approve if his family was the butt of jokes? What if Aamir is simply taking a stand on behalf of his friend Salman? Would Twinkle be hailed as a popular columnist if Mrs. Funnybones had blasted the roast? This not to say that all of them are liars. But how many of us are truly honest when we take a public stand?
 

While I am all for the show being watched as an adult movie, I am confused on several fronts.If popular trends mirror society, will I be comfortable if my kid narrates cuss laden jokes at home? Am I supporting the show only because I support 'freedom of expression'? What if the event was conducted by Hindi speaking stand-up artists using colloquial offensive words? Would the social media activists support them?  Perhaps, we are treading in grey waters. Perhaps there is no absolute right or wrong. I don't know. What I know is that I don't want Mr. Ashok Pandit as my moral minder.

‘Offence is never given, it’s taken. If you are offended walk away,’ say AIB supporters. Agree. But how many of us are mature enough to walk away when we are the butt of a cuss laden joke?
For me, freedom of expression comes with some sense of responsibility. I cannot listen to loud music at midnight because my neighbors will not walk away. Not without protesting. As Justice Orwell said, “You cannot go to a crowded theater, and shout, fire.”
 
Even at the cost of sounding preachy like Aamir, why cant we be more tolerant in understanding that any alternate view comes from a different culture, a different mindset, a different approach, a different reference, a different vantage point and a different upbringing? Why should Russell Peters ask Aamir to shut up? Aamir was reacting to a question and not sermonizing on his own. We can disagree with Aamir, maybe he is a hypocrite, but he has every right to speak his mind just as Twinkle has. Why is it so difficult to agree to disagree without calling names? After all, different folks, different jokes. 

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The Hand On My Shoulder

#GreatDad - The Hand On My Shoulder

It’s been a decade. Sometimes it feels like yesterday. And sometimes, a lifetime ago.
He is not present. Not physically.

There are moments when I open the main door and see him. He is fumbling to find a chocolate in his coat even before he greets me with a reassuring hug. Maa cribs, “Stop giving her chocolates. Your daughter is a mother of a son.” He shrugs, “So what, she’ll always be my little girl.” 
A dad, they say is always making his baby into a little woman. And when she is a woman, he turns her back into a baby again.

At times, I see him walking with the senior citizens in my apartment complex. He is leading the group, regaling them with amusing anecdotes, oftentimes repeating them over and over again. At times I see him engaged in an animated political discussion, or reading a book in the garden.
There are days when I see him carrying his stethoscope, rushing off to see a patient in the middle of the night. He returns in a pensive mode. I know the prognosis is bleak. It is my turn to cheer him up.
It is impossibly surreal, when, at one point I see him at the book launch of my story in an anthology. He is standing in the last row, beaming a proud smile, holding the book, sharing my sense of accomplishment. But he is not present. Not physically.

Sometimes, I need him when someone in the family falls sick and no doctor in the vicinity picks up his phone in the middle of the night. I need him to tell me if we need to begin with the antibiotics or wait for the fever to subside. 
I need him when my son acts like a teenager insisting on a solo road trip. Dad's sane voice instills sense almost magically, transforming the sullen teen into a pliable young man. Above all, I need him to be there for my mother who now lives alone. 
But he is not present. Not physically.

Sometimes I want him to take me on a scooter ride for some fresh air and ice-cream. I want him to teach me how to play bridge, to help me buy a new car, to remind me that I can never say ‘please’ or ‘thank you’ too often, and to find positives in every person and situation. 

That’s what #Great Dads are, aren’t they? They are present through our trials, tribulations and triumphs. Holding us and releasing us from time to time. Encouraging us to develop wings even while they nourish and strengthen the roots. The word “Fatherhood’ is the very definition of being the protector and purveyor of wisdom. Being a dad is like being a teacher, a coach, a friend and a role model rolled in one.
But he is not present. Not physically.

Nevertheless, the task ahead becomes easier with his hand on my shoulders. Those who live in your heart can never go away.

Stir Fry, Don’t Roast

Pic: www.newshunt.com

After the release of the AIB Knockout video, social media was abuzz with how we have learnt to enjoy self-deprecatory humor. In terms of the number of likes and shares, the event rocked the online world with more than four lakh views. According to one, “This was refreshing compared to Kapil Sharma kind of jokes where even our humor is supposed to be sanskari.” 
Given the content of the show, I was expecting a storm. The strong winds of outrage began to lash when television debates centered around the alleged rape of our society by the members of AIB – All India Bakchod. One panelist wondered why the adult content was telecast without any filters. To be fair, there was a disclaimer in the official video. However, I am not sure how a disclaimer works, because when a pre-teen reads - ‘For 18 and above’ he is most likely to watch it.

On a personal note, I have enjoyed watching AIB videos where spoofs can sometimes make an impressionable point about prevalent societal clichés. In a country where we construct temples of movie stars the event was path breaking, if not refreshing. I enjoyed the first part but the second and the third part did not amuse me. As a result, I did not watch the concluding parts beyond a few minutes. 
Having said that, I wish, we as a society were mature enough to say,"Don’t watch it if you don’t like it." It is too naive and idealistic to brush it off with, " Not your cup of tea, don't drink it." Because  the video was easily available to school going kids on Whatsapp. 

For me, the show could have been equally hilarious if not more, without the jokes about ISIS, 9/11 mishap, or Raghu Ram’s incessant cussing. Not many will enjoy jokes about 26/11, right? Call me old fashioned but cuss words do not amuse me. Just as the organizers have a right to offend, I have a right to not like everything they say. Should an FIR should be lodged against the organizers? Should they be threatened and forced to apologize? Of course, not.

Then again, I read an article where a gay writer is offended with Karan Johar’s portrayal of gay community. Whatever we may make of this new trend in standup comedy, we are bound to ruffle feathers of some religion, some gender,some community or some political party. Regardless, in a country where politicians get away with hate speeches, targeting comedy is unfair. This is, of course, not to say that two wrongs make a right. I am more offended by the video of an 11 year old girl who was raped and the video was uploaded on social media.

Even if misogynist, feminist and racial jokes are to be seen in the context of the show, which is meant to be rude and offensive - the thin line dividing abuse and humor is likely to land us on a slippery slope. More often than not, comedy as a genre is subjective. What is funny for one can be offensive for another.And therein lies the dilemma.

Read the entire article originally published on The Hoot.