Long time
back as a very junior officer I was called upon to perform duty during the
visit of the then Prime Minister to a sub divisional town for a political rally
where lakhs of people were supposed to gather. As is the wont in the arrangements
of this hype and dimension, several agencies were involved in briefing the
officers and men concerning their duties and responsibilities prior to the
event. One such briefing was to be done by an officer of the rank of Special
Superintendent from Intelligence Branch. We all were dreading a long discourse
on the principles and the elements of VVIP security as the April sun was
already beating down on us. A pleasant looking officer turned up dressed in
smart casuals. His authoritative demeanour and intent looking eyes conveyed an
impression to me that he meant business as I prepared myself for a long
haul. He began: ‘How many of you are
doing such duty for the first time?’ I was the one amongst some others who
raised their hands. With a benign smile he looked vaguely in our direction. ‘How
many of you have done this duty before?’ Quite a large number of them
raised their hands. ‘So those who have done this duty before will brief the
ones who are new’. And with these words the briefing was over. We looked at
each other stunned with this ‘brief’ briefing but relieved that we didn’t have
to stand in the heat for long. We exchanged glances, smiled and perhaps laughed
mildly and dispersed.
Molla Nasreddin was believed to have lived and died during the
13th century in the Seljuk Sultanate of Rum, in today's Turkey. He is considered a populist philosopher and wise man, remembered for his
funny stories and anecdotes with subtle humour..
Once
Nasreddin was invited to deliver a sermon. When he got on the pulpit, he
asked, Do you know what I am going to say? The audience
replied "no", so he announced, I have no desire
to speak to people who don't even know what I will be talking about! and
left. The people felt embarrassed and called him back again the next day. This
time, when he asked the same question, the people replied yes. So
Nasreddin said, Well, since you already know what I am going to say, I
won't waste any more of your time! and left. The people were really
perplexed. They decided to try one more time and once again invited the Molla
to speak the following week. Once again he asked the same question – Do
you know what I am going to say? Now the people were prepared and so
half of them answered "yes" while the other half replied "no".
So Nasreddin said Let the half who know what I am going to say, tell it
to the half who don't, and left.
Who
is not a fool? (Qui non stultus?) –
says the Roman poet Horace (65-8 B.C.) in ‘Satires’, a
collection of his satirical poems exploring the secrets of human happiness and
literary perfection.
Humour is the great diffuser of
tense situations.
It
may perhaps have been the reason why in medieval times or even later, monarchs
and wealthy used to appoint court jesters. The European words used to denote
him are numerous, reflecting the mercurial man behind them: fool, buffoon,
clown, jongleur, jogleor, joculator, sot, stultor, scurra, fou, fol, truhan,
mimus, histrio, morio. Distinction
was made between fools and clowns, or country bumpkins. The fool's status was one
of privilege within a
royal or noble household. His folly could be regarded as the raving of a madman
but was often deemed to be divinely inspired. The 'natural' fool was touched by
God. The relationship was often very
close and amiable, and the jester was almost invariably a cherished presence.
He was no rebel or revolutionary. His detached stance allowed him to take the
side of the victim in order to curb the excesses of the system without ever
trying to overthrow it. There are many stories which show a jester as the only
person who could counsel a stubborn king, and as such the myth of the court jester
suggests that jesters could act as a check on the whimsical power of absolute
monarchy.
‘We have all seen how an appropriate and
well-timed joke can sometimes influence even grim tyrants. . . . The most
violent tyrants put up with their clowns and fools, though these often made
them the butt of open insults.’ —Desiderius Erasmus, Praise of
Folly.
In
Europe the most eminent jesters were household names, and stories about their
jokes and tricks circulated freely.
Sancho
Panza, Don Quixote’s squire in the novel Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes, is a short, pot-bellied peasant whose gross appetite, common sense, and vulgar wit
serve as a foil to the mad idealism of his master. He is famous for his many
pertinent proverbs. Sancho provides comments throughout the novel, known
as sanchismos that are a combination of broad humour, ironic Spanish proverbs,
and earthy wit.
In
India too in recent times electronic media has made some of the comedians like
Raju Srivastava, Kapil Sharma, Vir Das popular and they command a huge fan
following, though not in the same league as their ancestors in the past.
Gopal
Bhar was a legendary court jester in medieval Bengal. He was in the court of
Raja Krishnachandra, the famous king of Nadia.
Numerous stories about his exploits are narrated to this day. The stories are short,
beautiful, and humorous and have a specific social message. His stories are
comparable with those of Birbal and Molla Nasreddin.
When I was a kid, my father used to get me a monthly magazine
‘Balak’ perhaps published from Patna.
In every issue of this magazine there used to be a story captioned ‘Mithila ke Birbal: Gonu Jha’. I do not
remember the stories now but I do have an impression of his being a "Pratyutpannamati"
(ready-witted) character. He was a contemporary of Hari Singh, King
of Mithila in the 13th century. There are
several humorous folktales about him, depicting him as a witty and wise
man.
Birbal, an advisor in the court of the Mughal Emperor Akbar is mostly known for the folk tales that focus on wit. By the end of Akbar's reign, local folk tales emerged portraying him as being extremely clever and witty. These tales involve him outsmarting rival courtiers and sometimes even Akbar, using only his intelligence and cunning, often with giving witty and humorous responses and impressing Akbar.
Garlapati Tenali Ramakrishna popularly known as Tenali Rama and Vikata Kavi, was a court-poet of the Vijayanagara Empire in the 16th century. He was one of the Ashtadiggajas who belonged to the court of Krishnadevaraya in Vijayanagar. He was known for his wit and impressive poetry.
An offence was registered against Bollywood producer-director Sanjay Gupta, Balaji Motion Pictures and glamsham.com, a movie portal, by the Versova police on March 1, 2012 for the alleged misuse of the name of Mumbai Police Commissioner's office to promote Gupta's film Shootout at Wadala. He had issued an invitation card for a press conference, which was made to look like a summons from the CP. However, Gupta contended that there was a disclaimer issued by them at the back of the invitation card.
"This is an innovative
invitation. That's it," Justice A V Nirgude said. "The police
officers who registered the offence have lost their sense of humour," he
wrote in.
In fact we all have. We are living in a time when an
innocuous forward of a cartoon or a remark on twitter or face book or any
social media site at once attracts provisions of IT Act or other such laws. Millions mourning the Charlie Hebdo tragedy have roared “the
pen is mightier than the sword” – and that pen should always be free to write
whatever it wants. Perhaps no longer. We all have forgotten how to laugh at
ourselves. And those who claim to represent us have assumed that we have no
sense of humour. We're now so sensitive about everything – from a word in a
movie or song, to a tweet, to interpretation of history, to art, to almost
anything at all – that we react with anger and end up destroying public assets
and endangering human lives.
Every issue can be politicized, all in the
name of the “common man”.
The sunshine and the cheer, the mirth and the laughter seem to have evaporated
from our collective imagination long since.
It feels as if 2015 is the year when a
war has been declared on humour, with laughter replaced by the curiously modern
disease of being terminally offended.
Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like
the sun, it shines everywhere.—Twelfth
Night
Not anymore, Shakespeare sir. These
are not your times now.
Your profound and poetic expression
may be subjected to an ear shattering prime-time debate and questioned at full
throttle ….
…..because the Nation wants to know….