In Defence Of Offence

We pay to watch stand-up comics, laugh good-humouredly at weddings when the bride's and groom's families exchange barbs through folk songs, chuckle delightedly at jokes directed at various communities and lap up double entendre, whether in films, plays or print. Quite clearly then, the 4,000 people who paid Rs4,000 to watch actors Arjun Kapoor and Ranveer Singh being 'roasted' in a show anchored by filmmaker Karan Johar knew what they were in for. As did the millions who watched the YouTube video of the event by comedy collective All India Bakchod (AIB). It was risqué, personal and offensive — and had the celebrities laughing at themselves and, of course, the audience too.

Offence comedy is not new to Indians, but with an FIR being filed against AIB and a massive debate, it is under attack. In fact, the roast format that AIB tried to bring to the Indian mainstream originated in 1949 and has been used to rip off many international celebrities. Go further back in time, and one realises that this brand of humour does not even spare the gods.

Cultural historian Mukul Joshi points to a centuries-old tradition when kings of yore would encourage performers to poke fun at them. "From Rajasthan and Gujarat to Maharashtra, Karnataka and Kerala, you find such folk traditions. This worked in a two-pronged way. It would provide a safety valve to let off excess heat if subjects were unhappy, and the king could tell from the responses of the audience if they mirrored the feelings of the act. This was meant to help them with mid-course corrections in their functioning," he says.

No holy cows
Counselling psychologist Deepak Kashyap says Indian culture is full of such expressions. "In most traditional Hindu weddings, the girl's side makes fun of the boy's side by using bawdy language. These songs, called gaaliyan, are immensely popular especially in the north. Even our gods, are subjected to ninda stuti (insult praise) as a form of worship. Devotees indulging in this feel it makes them stand out among the throng of wish seekers in the God's eyes."

Those outraged by AIB should also take note of a pre-Aryan tradition in Karnataka. Every three years, Mariamma — the local deity of Sagara in Shimoga district — is taken out in a procession across town. Here, an aashaadi (priest) stands in front of the chariot carrying the deity and showers her with the filthiest abuses in the presence of lakhs of devotees. "The belief is that by doing so, he makes the goddess angry. The powers manifest in her, rising with every slang and abuse. This is supposed to be the best time to worship the goddess," explains Hiranna Rao, a local who's compiling a book on the tradition. "A bunch of bananas tied in front of her blacken and keep falling off, believed to be result of the goddess' rising anger."

Kashyap likens the need for the rich and the famous to be roasted in public with insult comedy being "exactly like people experiencing the need to be dominated in bed, but with consent. It perpetuates the idea that nobody is too big or sacrosanct to be made fun of."

The legacy of Dada Kondke 
Maharashtra, for one, has a long-standing tradition of insult comedy. "Wrapped with sharp barbs and double entendres, these stand-up acts provided respite to dancing tamasha troupes as they took a break between sawaal-jawab and lavani acts," says Joshi. "The man who took this to a pinnacle was actor-comedian and filmmaker Dada Kondke."

Kondke did 1,500 shows of his theatrical tamasha-based production Vichcha Maajhi Puri Kara (Fulfil My Desire). "In comparison to Dada's work, AIB seemed as exciting as 'a picnic on a wet afternoon'," feels Joshi. "Today we have to support such a terrible act, only because not doing so will mean not standing up for freedom of expression."

Joshi adds that Kondke would improvise with the headlines of the day. "He'd particularly pick on corruption and scams. People would laugh away when he'd spot someone and quickly make up lines around what s/he was wearing or their recent work and twist it to fire barbs at them. This left bigwigs from both Hindi and Marathi cinema so enamoured that they'd all try to attend his shows and vie for his attention. It was almost as though you were the toast of society if he roasted you."

The comedians speaketh
India's first comedy roast took place last year when actors Vinay Pathak and Ranvir Shorey were roasted at the Weirdass Pajama festival. "We had the Tandoor of Suhel Seth at the recently-concluded Pajama festival, and it was as offensive as a roast can get. Prior consent is taken, and nothing is uncalled for. Everybody is aware of how bad it's going to get," says Amogh Ranadive, content head at Weirdass Comedy.
Delhi-based stand-up comedian Neeti Palta feels that Indians are used to talking behind people's backs, thus making it difficult for them to accept a format where people insult each other to their face. "Suhel Seth was laughing and applauding throughout his roast. We had a packed show with 1,800 people in attendance at Siri Fort. The roast format is such that the proceeds go to charity. That's why people agree to do it." Palta also points out that Birbal and Tenali Raman drove home-truths to their kings and didn't get chastised for doing so.
"If I don't like or want to watch a Kamaal R Khan movie, I don't become a 'Deshdrohi'," says Anuradha Menon, famous as Channel [V] VJ Lola Kutty. She was one of the panelists at the very first roast of Ranvir and Vinay. "We get so easily offended these days, but this controversy will work as reverse psychology. Now that people know about roasts, they will be drawn to such events," she feels.
Johnny Lever, on the other hand, thinks there are better ways of doing comedy. "Insult comedy may get accepted after 20-25 years. It's premature now. We are not in America. I was shocked to see such big names in the (AIB) show. There are 1,700 more things to be made fun of. Why be vulgar and insult someone for humour?" he asks.
Jaideep Varma, director of I Am Offended, a documentary on what stand-up comedians go through to put on a show, feels a mountain is being made out of a molehill. "Comedians are like any other professionals. And there are so many indigenous stories to be told. At least some do it in an entertaining way. The internet is their ally, and nobody can stop the internet," he says.
Meanwhile, comedian, theatre personality and TV anchor Cyrus Broacha, whose MTV Bakra and The Week That Wasn't helped pave the way for satire in the Indian mainstream, has this to say: "Maybe we'll have watered down versions of roasts called 'baked'. Now it may make us more alert, and we may indulge in self-censorship — which is not good for comedy. On TV, you're a comedian without a backbone, because all the things that may offend someone have to be removed. We shouldn't become repressive in our art."

THE ART OF OFFENCE IN RURAL INDIA
Those trying to bring criminal charges against AIB for using 'vulgar' language should listen to folk songs from the Bhojpuri belt, reprised by Guddu Rangila and Sapna Awasthi in a T-Series cassette suggestively titled Khare Khare Lagaalau:
"Kal kal bhataar badlaiyan sakhi/ Kal kal bhataar badlaiyan/ Na bahumat ba tora re, na bahumat hamar ho/ Ao bana le eho sakhi, mili juli sarkar/ Maja leve ke ehi upaiy/ Kal kal...Naa chulha upaas rahi/ Naa Gudu ke aas rahi/ Mor mardaa tora lage/ Tor marda mora paas rahi/ Hui dono ke dal faraiya/ Kal kal..."
Translated, it goes:
"Tomorrow, let's swap husbands, friend/ Swap husbands/ Neither your views will prevail, nor mine/ We'll have a shared government this way/ A recipe for fun/ Swap husbands/ Neither cooking nor fasts/ No waiting for kids/ My husband will seem like yours/ And yours will be near me/ We'll cook their geese/ Let's swap husbands."
Rural India has a rich tradition of bawdy songs. Adultery, the bhabhi-devar relationship, graphic references to body parts — nothing is off limits.
Hindi poet Ashok Vajpeyi says that 'risque' literature goes back to the ages of Sanskrit, Braj and Prakrit. "Gathasaptasati, one of the earliest anthologies of love poetry dating back to 2AD, has a woman confess: 'I don't make love to my husband even when I am making love to him'."
North Indian insult songs called gari (Sithanian in Punjab), are sung by women from the bride's family to entertain the groom's party. The tradition is even referred to by Tulsidas in Ramcharitmanas. There's further mock deriding of the groom and his family, where they are accused of being sexually inept and/or immoral, dressed in women's clothes and have flour rubbed on their faces and bells tied around their necks.
—Gargi Gupta