At a very young and tender age I was introduced to the beauty of wit by my father. He was a voracious and ardent reader. He always had a parable, an anecdote or a joke to suit the many discussions he would have with his children at the dining table, particularly over Sunday morning tea and breakfast sessions. In these he would draw upon effortlessly from subjects spanning politics, societal issues, religious history, history in general, culture and fine arts. Since there was so much to learn and laugh, we waited eagerly for Sundays. My father's favorite wit and wisdom characters were Winston Churchill and George Bernard Shaw. So it follows with me that I love to read most about Winston Churchill and his wicked wit.
In the introduction to 'Great British Wit', Rosemarie Jarksi says, 'Humor is the lingua franca, the modus operandi and the raison d'être for all communication in this green and pleasant land.' Alongside the Sunday morning sessions, Dad had inculcated in us a habit of reading. He subscribed to many journals and magazines, and Reader's Digest was one of them. I became an addict of Reader's Digest, a heritage passed on to my sons; both are equally in quest of RD. This magazine brought into contact, 'All In A Day's Work', 'Humour In Uniform' and 'Laughter Is The Best Medicine' as the most gripping sections. Added to this are the apt quips at the bottom of each page. Humor is life.
To a fellow parliamentarian, who was studiously interrupting Churchill in his speech, remarked and advised an exasperated Winston, 'The honorable gentleman should really not generate more indignation than he can conveniently contain'. I can only imagine its impact on the interrupter! Once, while campaigning for the 1900 elections, said a potential voter to Churchill, 'Vote for you? Why I would rather vote for the devil!' Winston, never short on an appropriate repartee said, 'I understand. But in case your friend is not running, may I count on your support?'
Look at our current crop of politicians and compare with Churchill's definition of a politician; said he, 'The ability to foretell what is going to happen tomorrow, next week, next month and next year. And to have the ability afterwards to explain why it did not happen'. We live with those who can do neither, predict or explain thereafter. On being conferred Doctorate of Law, he quipped, 'Perhaps no one has ever passed so few exams and received so many degrees'. He could laugh at himself - quality of a great leader. On the parliament floor, he told Ramsay McDonald on his face, 'the boneless wonder' he was. Commenting on Russia of Stalin era, he had said, 'In Russia a man is called a revolutionary if he objects to having his property stolen and his wife and children murdered'. At the height of war too, he never let his humor die. Visiting a cathedral, he listened to the Archbishop, who was complaining about German bombing, with rapt attention. Churchill said, 'Ah! Close hits but the cathedral would survive' - 'But what if we get a direct hit,' persisted the Archbishop. 'In that event,' Winston, losing his patience, said 'you will have to regret it, my dear Archbishop, as a divine summons'.
Blessed are those who can laugh at themselves, for they shall never cease to be amused. Khushwant Singh, the celebrated Indian writer/journalist, had written that Indians love to laugh at others but never on themselves; and to that I would add, how much laughable opportunity the Indians are missing!
Verbal warfare is the best past time of politicians and writers. They know how to mask clever insults behind lofty words. Wit and its style of delivery are the armory of all gentlemen who are called upon to speak before any audience. 'They need to have a mind that resembles a soup dish - wide and shallow' (Irving Stone).
Geoffrey Madam, on leaving a Welsh church service said, 'In the sermon, the word "truth" was repeatedly said in English. Apparently there is no equivalent word in Welsh.'
On egotism and modesty, George Bernard Shaw said, 'Boasting about modesty is typical of the English.' 'I know he is a truly great and good man, for he told me so himself.' (W.S. Gilbert).
Following a visit to White Hall, Edward Appleton wrote, 'Do not miss at White Hall, a sight where at the one end you will find a statue of our King (Charles I) who was beheaded; at the other is the monument of the man (Oliver Cromwell) who did it. This is just an example of our attempts to be fair to everybody.'
On time, the best comment I read was, 'A minute, how long it is, depends entirely on which side of the washroom door you are on!'
I have found that the best thing about waking up early morning and walking into the washroom is to see in the mirror the most handsome, loveable and admirable creation of nature. I have witnessed the mirror blush and feel shy at my modest, "George Clooney" like presence. Remaining on the subject of modesty, Pablo Picasso said he could never own a Picasso because it was very expensive and that made it ill-affordable for him. A man can be changed only when he is in his nappies, is a world-wide held view by all women. Every gentleman is a patient wolf to them. Thomas Huxley corroborates their view with this thought: Men, my dear, are very queer animals; a mixture of horse-nervousness, ass-stubbornness and camel-malice. But then Samuel Butler retorts with 'Brigands demand your money or life; women require both.'
Reading the section 'Humor In Uniform' in Reader's Digest, I am only reminded of General Zia, for he truly was a perfect paragon of the worst humor in uniform. He never ventured, I believe, to go on a diet despite the blessed skin's best attempts to fit the uniform, albeit in vain. General Zia never said anything witty or humorous, except that 'Elections will be held in 90 days'. He refused to smile even after putting to the gallows the most popular leader of that era. But yet by mere looks, he personified humor.
Sins that are not committed can be classified as 'Sins Of Omission'. Even hurling a curse had great wit and literary content in days of yore. The curse of India read, 'Die, may he; Tiger catch him; Snake bite him; Steep hill, fall down on him; River, flow over him; Wild boar, bite him.' The famous Arabic curse, 'May the fleas of a thousand camels infest your armpits' or the Irish curse, 'May you melt off the Earth like snow off the ditch'.
Literary giants were generally unkind to each other. On John Milton's 'Paradise Lost' Voltaire wrote, 'This obscene, eccentric and disgusting poem.' Claudius Salmasius, reacting to Milton's political overtures, and who had then recently turned blind said, 'having never had any mental vision, he has now lost his bodily sight; a silly coxcomb, fancying himself a beauty; an unclean beast, with nothing more human about him than his guttering eye-lids; the fittest doom for him would be to hang him on the highest gallows, and set his head on the Tower of London'. I am in search of Rev.Bru. Roberts, who taught me the works of John Milton and what reverence he had created for him in our young minds - what is he (Milton), a beast or a saint? Perhaps it is the case, where Voltaire declares, 'God has granted my prayer, "O'Lord make my enemies ridiculous."'
Quoted Khushwant Singh that when Shabana Azmi planted an impromptu kiss on Nelson Mandela, the principal of Al-Ghusra Indians School, in Oman, wrote the most (in my view) hilarious eulogy : "A kiss is that which you cannot give without taking, and cannot take without giving. It is contraction of the mouth due to an enlargement of the heart....cunningly devised procedure for mutual stoppage of speech....it is a lip service to love and the anatomical juxtaposition of two orbicularis oris muscles in a state of contraction....of no use to one, yet absolute bliss to two. The small boy gets it for nothing, the young man has to steal it, and the old man has to buy it...to a young girl, faith? A married woman, hope? To an old maid, charity. A kiss can be a comma, a quotation mark or an exclamation point. It is also a pleasant reminder that two heads are better than one.' The Principal obviously was green with envy towards Mandela!
In the sub-continent, trucks and auto-rickshaws have humorous, patriotic, religious inscriptions - some of them loaded with heavy dosages of profundity...'Maaki dua, jannat ki hawa'. In Chandrigarh, Haryana, an auto had the inscription (rendered into English for this piece), 'She came to my grave, blew out the oil lamp placed on it, she smeared it on her head and walked away'.
On a visit to New Delhi, as a young student, with my father, we sat in a three wheeler auto, driven by a Sardarji, to go to Hazrat Nizamuddin Auliya's mausoleum and it had an apt inscription at the back, 'Aaao huzoor tumko sitaron mein le chaloon'. What a promise of a memorable ride it held!
To appreciate humor and wit, with cynicism and satire as their accompaniments, it is important to read a wide array of subjects. Life would be dull without humor. And without books it would be even duller. To end this piece, asked to review a book, Groucho Mark wrote, 'From the moment I picked your book until I laid it down, I was convulsed with laughter. Someday I intend reading it.' Readers, here is hoping you enjoy wit and humor, and that I say with very little hope!