When Humour Charms . . .
The good thing about Jatileswar Mukhopadhyay is that he sings beautifully, even in these advanced years he happens to be going through. The better thing is that he has a remarkable sense of humour. Seeing him last week and hearing him sing was a joy. It was joy that was heightened a good few notches through his wit, much of which was self-deprecating.
And beside him was our very own Syed Abdul Hadi, whose humility and sense of humour have always been of an energizing sort. The programmes he presents on television have been of great substance, both in terms of their content and in relation to Hadi's style of presentation. A good number of years ago, Abu Hena Mustafa Kamal, academic-cum-lyricist, made it a point to bring eminent artistes on television. His style of presentation was captivating in that he interspersed the programmes with a dexterous combination of music and healthy, humorous conversation.
Humour, wit, indeed repartee ought to be part of life, especially among those who happen to be on the more prominent perches of existence. Take the case of politicians in the United States. Almost all important politicians, particularly those who have been occupants of the White House or have aspired to the presidency, have been men known for their wit. The classic instance here is of Abraham Lincoln. Humour dripped from him. He was eminently capable of spinning yarns about life and setting the entire house rolling in laughter. And he said it all with a straight face.
There is the annual Gridiron Club dinner in the United States, where it is often the president who is invited to deliver a speech that must be pregnant with humorous remarks. To no one's surprise, the affair is always successful, with the speaker indulging in a demonstration of wit, self-deprecating as well as targeting others, and so giving the audience a truly good time. In other countries too, politicians have over the years shown themselves to be remarkable repositories of humour. Think of India's Piloo Mody here. In the Lok Sabha, the late Syed Badrudduja and Atal Behari Vajpayee often traded barbs that were as harmless as they were educative.
In Victorian Britain, Benjamin Disraeli was known for the laughter he caused in the House of Commons with his displays of wit, especially when the target of his remarks was his great rival William Gladstone. Asked by a lawmaker once to explain the difference between 'misfortune' and 'calamity', terms he had been using repeatedly in the House, Disraeli drew the MP's attention to Gladstone on the opposition benches and said, without batting an eyelid: “Now, observe Mr. Gladstone on the opposition benches. If he fell into the Thames, it would be a misfortune. But if we pulled him out of it, it would be a calamity.” The statement brought the entire House down.
There are people, those in the public eye, who give new and interesting dimensions to their personalities through a natural resort to humour. The actor Farooq Sheikh is one such I ndividual. In our country, there is ATM Shamsuzzaman. And there is Enamul Haq. Both men have, in the movies as well as theatre, given us good comic relief. Now, Abdullah Abu Sayeed does not do that, but he does something more necessary. He brings into his discourse a natural approach to conversation, which basically means keeping it simple and keeping it going. And to do that, one must have an abundance of humour, to a point where the humour will percolate down to everyone around and make them feel good about life. That precisely is what Sayeed does.
Jatileswar Mukhopadhyay at The Daily Star Centre. Photo: Ridwan Adid Rupon
Wit should have been part of all the talk shows we are everyday treated to on the ubiquity of television channels in the country. Wit and humour do not dilute the seriousness of a discussion, but what they do is prevent everyone around from finding themselves on edge. More precisely, they help the process of deliberations along for everyone through putting them at ease. Sometimes a statement might be regarded as simply humorous in tone and nothing more than that. One might not read too much into it and yet observe the ease with which the speaker conveys it. The humorist is an individual who fills the room with his presence. He does not have to be a professional comedian or a clown. It is just that he makes light of life. You can refer to Woody Allen here. Every sentence dropping off his lips makes you think.
Imagine an evening listening to Tapan Mahmood regaling a rapt audience with Rabindrasangeet. There is a reserved exterior in him, which might lead you to suppose that humour does not go with him, or he with humour. Not until he speaks, between his songs, that you realise how full of wit he is. His songs keep the audience riveted to the stage, but his wit brings them closer to him, almost in a fusion of the soul. Much of this quality you just might notice in the poet and lyricist Javed Akhtar. The lightness of soul and depth of conversation which have defined those who are part of the Urdu tradition are what we experience so cheerfully in Akhtar.
It is not easy being humorous, for humour requires extensive training of the mind as well as adequate natural instincts to enable one to become the life of the party. The ability to make people laugh, to enable them to emerge from their shells and into spontaneity, is what makes the humorist part of a circle willing to be charmed.
Humour liberates. That is all you need to know.
The writer is Executive Editor, The Daily Star.
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