The lost art of insulting
My wife recently shared a Tulu joke — borrowed from a popular Mangalorean play — and it made me realize that humour transcends language but not always. Just like you can’t crack a joke that you didn’t originally think of — you can only share it — a joke doesn’t necessarily sound funny in another language. Until it does.
Take for example, this scenario: A man sprinkles water on the face of his sleeping wife. His irritated wife wakes up and demands to know why he did so. His reply, “I had once promised your father that I’ll treat you like a flower!”
Well, if you found it funny, you won’t be surprised to know it remains funny in several Indian languages. Mainly because our social ethos are pretty much the same irrespective of our unique geographies. Simply put, language manages to carry forward the yoke of laughter here. However, this joke may not sound funny to a Parisian, who has no idea about the tension a typical desi guy shares with his typical father-in-law.
As I am typing, Ranga is lazing as usual with his back firmly stacked against the wall. He has to be in touch with something, could be his snout grazing the edge of the table or his tail gently brushing against the leg of a chair, for moral support. Or else, he can’t sleep at all. I am not sure how long he snoozes deeply but he spends a major chunk of the day/night on the floor. Whenever he feels like he has to go out for a stroll, he stands in front of the main door and we let him out. Sometimes, he walks down the stairs and roams in the neighbourhood strategically hiding behind the parked cars, or he’d climb up the stairs to relieve himself on the terrace. He is low maintenance and extremely comfortable with himself. Yes, there are days when he’d behave all clingy but that’s a rarity. He generally wants you to pat his head and then move on in life. He doesn’t crave your “good boy” assurances. Clearly a fellow who has never seen ups and downs of a relationship. Stability is his motto.
After being with Ranga for over four years, I can’t possibly digest how humans can have any expectation from members of the canine family. Have you watched those videos where dogs are trained to complete different tasks, involving a lot of movements and quick thinking? I don’t think Ranga will ever be able to participate. He is a dog of his own pace and fits in precisely with our ideology of not training a dog do anything out of its comfort zone. Just let them be. If they don’t want to ‘sit’ or ‘shake’, so be it. Of course, this bohemian spirit doesn’t apply to all the dogs because not everybody is as tranquil as Ranga. However, I am quite uncomfortable with the commercial approach taken with the so-called trained dogs. Almost as if these dogs took birth to serve our species. I was recently watching a documentary Pick of the Litter (2018) and whenever somebody on the screen used the word ‘career’ for the guide dogs, I was hiding in facepalms. Seriously? Does a dog really need a career to be around? Can’t she just exist for existence’s sake?
There are about 10 countries in the world where sheep outnumber people. For all the political murmurs about cows in India, they are nowhere close to the country’s human population. Regardless of these stats, some animals have been metaphors for ‘herd’ for centuries. All thanks to their subordination and meek characteristics. I found this analogy interesting while reading about ‘herd immunity’ during the peak of COVID-19. So many influential voices were in favour of building resistance against the virus by natural means. That was before some of them tested positive. Later, almost every sane face pounced on the propagation of masks. If you aren’t wearing a mask in public, you are anti-masker and worse still, anti-Michael Jackson. Here, again, our ‘herdness’ is at full display. As social beings, we tend to copy each others’ behaviour. If everybody else is wearing a mask, chances are I’d feel a strong hint of FOMO and cover up as well. Similarly, if nobody else is wearing a mask, I’d automatically undervalue the importance of being cautious. For good or for worst, that’s called herd mentality.
Did you know that Alexander Graham Bell was into sheep farming? In fact, he spent a considerable amount of his time on these woolly creatures. One of the earliest studies on genetics was conducted by him on them. In one bizarre letter, he noted that if an ewe had more nipples, she might be able to reproduce more lambs. Of course, his positive fame comes from his work in the field of telephony and his association with Nat Geo. But it’s interesting how some of the finest minds from the past displayed some of the weirdest thoughts too. I was equally amused by Charles Darwin’s desperate letters during his stay on Galapagos islands, musing (falsely) about creatures he had never seen before. On returning home, he later asserted that “savage races” like Aborigines were closer to gorillas than they were to white Europeans. But then, we can’t judge somebody from the 19 century with the knowledge we enjoy in the 21st century. At the end of the day, we are all sheep of differing degrees. When a sheep is let into a maze, it’s bound to turn left. That’s evolutionary. Similarly, a human tends to turn right. Now, is that herd immunity?
The greatest of insults hit you so subtly that it destroys your ego but also makes you doubly aware of yourself. And that’s where the distinction between good and great lies. If you are offended by silly remarks, which wasn’t even thought out properly, then it’s not your fault. Why? Because you’d continue to feel offended by such lowly barrages. On the other hand, if you are truly fortunate, you will stumble upon individuals who can see through you and might help you improve.
Case1: “You are the worst amongst your siblings. There is no hope for you.”
Case2: “I am not saying that you are the worst. I am not even suggesting that you are bad. Just that your siblings are better than you.”
Noticed? There, there.
We are currently living in the WFH era. What it means is we are working from home but the problem is, we are oblivious to the demarcations anymore. Earlier, during peacetime, we had something like office attire and culture that reminded us when we were working and when we weren’t. As of now, we are somewhere in the middle of these two zones. If anything, we, the laptop-driven millennials, are the epitome of karmnishta (a Sanskrit salvo for “work is worship”). If we aren’t working, we feel lonely and listless. Our work provides meaning to our otherwise deserted existence. Refreshing our inboxes and checking different groups for messages is as natural to our generation as waking up and brushing on autopilot. The only downside here is the belief system behind this hard-earned feature. Turns out we like to believe that we add colour to our jobs. Unfortunately, that seldom happens. Most often than not, our profession influences us a lot. If you are a graphic designer, you will be approaching the kitchen with a completely different mindset than, say, a copywriter. Chances are a designer would be more methodical and neat with the chopping of vegetables, etc. Not to suggest that a copywriter won’t be able to cook a delicious meal. Just hypothesizing the various approaches towards the gas stove, based on something that should ideally have nothing to do with your job.
Let’s say, you come up with something wonderful. Can be anything from a one-liner to a short poem to a long story. Anything of creative value. You put it out for the world to consume, not even worrying about returns. You get a few likes on Instagram and some encouraging comments on Twitter and four claps on Medium. A month or so later, you’ve forgotten about your content but unbeknownst to you, it is traveling far and wide. Perhaps in translated forms. Perhaps hidden in the diary of a teenager who takes you for a fabulous writer. Could be anything. The point being, your creation can and will reach its destination provided you put in your finest bits. As long as you are true to yourself, your work will carry on. The problem with us, modern folks, is we are impatient. We post something and we crave immediate reaction. Never had the patience for tomorrow; everything has to happen today itself. In my view, the trick is to drag yourself out of this disease of instant gratification and invest your energy on your output instead of its outcome. After all, the real test of a content is how relevant it is several days later, several weeks later, several years later, and in some cases, several decades later.
Quiz may be conducted in several formats but the element of luck will always hover around the participants. Some things don’t get old. In school/college days, you prepared for ABC but XYZ showed up in your exam. Happens with quiz as well but the fact is, you aren’t supposed to prepare for a quiz. Peculiarly. Quiz is all about testing your memory, reaction skills, guessability, and above everything, your aptitude for having fun with others. If you are the kind who would rather slyly google the answers than actually listen to others’ incorrect replies and take an honest guess, then quizzing isn’t for you.
Sometimes I feel I am surrounded by truly brave souls and I am the only coward on an island. These individuals I am referring to here are strong enough to go ahead with their convictions. It’s not that they don’t care about consequences; just that they don’t wish to burden themselves with the fear of consequences. They believe in themselves and that’s the most beautiful phenomenon known to humankind. Finding yourself and then believing in it. Wow stuff. I am past 34 and yet to get anywhere close to this spot: the exact opposite of confident. That said, it’s still not late. Perhaps, in the near future, I’d be able to find courage and do what I was actually meant to. Until then, I ought to make peace with the fact that most of us don’t dare because we find solace in cowardice and nod our heads to the whims of our fate.
