Sticks and stones

VK Singh might have shot his mouth off and bitten off more than he could chew by punning on Twitter that has brought anguish to more of its users than can be counted. But did that warrant such outrage?

While watching the Times Now debate on V K Singh's "presstitute" statement last week, featuring a more-than-usual hyperventilating Arnab Goswami, with Swapan Dasgupta, Hartosh Singh Bal, Sambit Patra and Khushboo amongst others, I couldn't help but think of that old childhood couplet which used to be called out on the playing fields so frequently: "Sticks and stones may break my bones /but words will never hurt me."

Meant to be a blunt defence against name- calling, it could be relied on to put an end to most childhood arguments. After all, it stated a pretty obvious truth: your school or building mates might have insulted you verbally, but if you dusted off your ego and departed from the scene of crime, you would emerge with no bones broken, no bruises to show and with everything pretty much intact.

Why couldn't the same salve be applied in this case too?

Singh might have shot his mouth off and bitten off more than he could chew by punning on Twitter, that has brought anguish to more of its users than can be counted. But did that warrant such outrage?

What had he done but resort to exactly the kind of name-calling that the press had subjected him and his ilk to?

After all, name-calling is pretty much the media's most prominent card. When we question the Commonwealth Games scam, when we investigate on Robert Vadra's land deals, when we write about a sitting army chief's suspicious manoeuvers, when we broadcast about an out-of-turn loan given to a crony capitalist, what else are we doing but questioning the integrity of those involved?

Isn't that what we have dished out day in and day out with varying degrees of sincerity and probity from time immemorial?

Worse, haven't we encouraged popular culture to insult groups or professions with impunity - the greedy landlord, the ruthless businessman, the corrupt cop? What makes the press immune to this merry slanging of pejorative terms? If we dish it out, are we not expected to take it sometime too?

And what had Singh done that isn't tit for tat? He has not used his powers as a minister in the Union government to retaliate with the strong arm of the state machinery. And he hasn't settled scores by unleashing a miasma of regulatory inquiry to sabotage the workings of his enemies. And he has not resorted to dirty tricks by leaning on media groups to dismiss his critics. Or made what, in our parlance, is called the "late night phone call" to wreak havoc on his opponents in a hundred different underhand ways available.

He has, like the bluff general that he was, exchanged fire for fire. And whereas his words might be questionable, his methods certainly weren't.

I say this because I know the flip side. Many years ago as a rookie journalist, I was party to a politician's far more toxic response.

Invited along with colleagues to the home of an all-powerful regional leader who'd often been on the receiving end of our criticism, the momentarily social lull in our fractious relations was brought to an abrupt end when the leader looked us straight in the eye and delivered the message that he'd planned to: "You attack me with your words," his eyes narrowing menacingly he said, even while serving us tea, "what can I do but attack you in the only way I know - by breaking your knee caps!"

You can see now why I think that Singh's pun should be taken on the chin.

Fire for fire is an acceptable form of warfare.

Malavika Sangghvi is a Mumbai-based writer malavikasmumbai@gmail.com