To Those Who Want Sanskari Humour

After mandating what we should or should not eat, what we can or cannot say, who we can or cannot love, and how we can or cannot worship, the powers that be now want to mandate the kind of comedy we can or cannot watch. 

This is not a joke. 

At their recently concluded ‘Akhil Bharatiya Prabhandhan Karini Baithak’ (national-level executive committee meeting) held in Nashik, Maharashtra, Sanskar Bharati, an RSS-affiliate, has issued a communique titled, ‘हास्य विधाओं में भारतीय मूल्य-बोध की पुनः स्थापना आवश्यक’ – 'The Need to Re-establish Indian Value Consciousness in the Genre of Humour.'

नासिक में संपन्न हुई संस्कार भारती की प्रबंधकारिणी बैठक में “हास्य विधाओं में भारतीय मूल्य बोध की पुनः स्थापना आवश्यक” इस विषय पर प्रस्ताव पारित हुआ।#SanskarBharati pic.twitter.com/HFtYSUQXYL

— Sanskar Bharati (@Sanskar_Bharati) April 16, 2025

If the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS) possessed even the minutest funny bone, someone in the aforementioned baithak would have burst out laughing at the irony of those who have no sense of humour lecturing the rest of the country about it. 

The attempt to straitjacket humour and fit it within ‘Indian value consciousness’ is about as ridiculous as telling someone to ‘sneeze gracefully’. It can’t be done. We sneeze how we sneeze and when the urge strikes. 

A laugh, similarly, is a sudden and spontaneous expression of delight. Humour is a recognition of the absurd. It is seeing the difference between the way things are supposed to be and the way they actually are. We laugh with a comedian because he or she has called out something funny that everyone could see and was aware of, but hadn’t quite found the language to name it. 

At its core, humour, especially satire, is about looking at reality honestly. Satire makes fun of power and the people wielding it. It does not poke fun at the marginalized, weak and disadvantaged. (That is something power does.) At the heart of humour lies irreverence, and that is why power does not like it. 

The Sanskar Bharati communique loftily points out:

“Whether through the medium of classical plays or folk stories, poems, riddles, jokes, satire, and mockery—Indian literature has had a long-standing association with humour, which has historically served as a medium for criticism, awareness, and social reform.”

In case the right-wing hadn’t noticed, that is exactly what the comedy of stand-up artistes like Kunal Kamra does. In his recent, much-reviled (and much loved) Naya Bharat show, Kamra not only poked fun at the hypocrisy of national-level and Maharashtra-level politicians and the sanctimoniousness of people like Anand Mahindra and Sudha Murthy, he also highlighted the perennial social problems of far too many Indian women.

He talked about the plight of the Indian dadi (grandmother) whose sole role in life for the longest time seemed to be manually grinding cooking masalas (spices) in service of her husband’s exacting tastes. He also pointed out that Indian women don’t want Time Machines, because they don’t want to meet the same stupid Indian men in the future they are currently surrounded with. They would much rather have inventions that can make their lives a bit easier, for example, roti makers. 

Humour, one might also add, is therapeutic. It reassures us that we are not the only ones feeling a certain way. To see others laughing at the same joke comforts us that we are a part of a larger community that is as unhappy at the injustices and hypocrisies of society as we are. Humour creates solidarity. That is another reason power fears it.

Sanskar Bharati goes on to claim, “Humour (via digital platforms) often promotes stereotypes related to language, caste, gender, and politics, mocks national symbols and religious sentiments, and shows disregard for ethical values.”

Here again, Sanskar Bharati is taking aim in the wrong direction, because the ones who are truly promoting stereotypes are the member of its own parivar, the right-wing eco-system, which encompasses not just the BJP’s infamous IT cell, but also the multitudinous WhatsApp uncles and aunties who faithfully forward sexist, casteist, and communal memes every chance they get. (And let’s not forget our prime minister either, who thought nothing of calling Muslim youth ‘puncturewallahs’.) 

Who is mocking ‘national symbols’ here? It wasn’t Kunal Kamra, who held up a copy of the Indian constitution, the ultimate ‘national symbol’, at the end of his show, and reminded his audience it was that which gave him the right to speak as freely as he did. The RSS, on the other hand, did not hoist another national symbol – the Indian tricolour – at its headquarters in Nagpur till 2001!

‘Sanskari humour’ is an oxymoron. It will either be ‘sansakri’ or it will be humour. The Sangh and its affiliates do well to realise that their ludicrous attempts to regiment and control something as deeply human as humour are doomed to failure.

In the end, as Mark Twain pointed out, against the assault of laughter nothing can stand. 

Rohit Kumar is an educator, author and independent journalist and can be reached at letsempathize@gmail.com

The Wire is now on WhatsApp. Follow our channel for sharp analysis and opinions on the latest developments.