11/8/2004 » Humor

If a certain South Asian humor magazine were to spring into being, The Pyaaz might whip up a savory such as this: that the high court of a certain Islamic militocracy has banned food, music, dancing and shringaar at weddings because a rival nation features all of these. The excision of all Hindu-inspired culture from a nation cleaved Siamese-style from its dominant twin leaves it with nothing more than echoes of Arabic, a thin rind of astringent Wahabbism and insufficiently comprehended talibs, freshly imported. This fingernail clipping, this ecliptic corona, this Venn diagram of loss leaves the nation with a desert of prohibited activities enumerated with the heavy delicacy of a tax code. Beside this desert, the permitted activities, the oases and beaches of the nation’s liberalities, read like a haiku:

1. Praying
2. Breathing (but not like a Hindu)
3. Eating (but not if you enjoy it)

The Pyaaz, in its infinite pulchritude, would be bombarded by missives of protest. The concoction is too rich, they’d say. It cannot be a satire, for a satire is about something, and this is attired in nothing. I am cancelling my subscription (a mehndi-haired dame), the frivolity of a fiction review? it is not for me.

And at the end of the mau-mauing, The Pyaaz would unveil its greatest subversion: not the sheer implausibility of a single story, rather that the supposed humor review merely reports straight news.

Pakistan's Supreme Court has upheld a ban on serving food at wedding receptions held in public places... The court bench then went a step further to criticise some of the most popular customs linked to South Asian weddings, including the colourful rituals of mayun and mehndi... and baraat... Describing them as social evils, the court said the state should take steps to eradicate them.

O gardens of earthly delight, the humor of ages hides in plain sight.