India's got latent: The fine line between comedy, thinking, and offence

A chess game between two friends sparks a debate on comedy, free speech, and societal taboos. In a world where humour can provoke both thought and outrage, where should the line be drawn?

The dimly lit room was filled with the soft scratching of chess pieces and the faint squeaks of a ceiling fan. Two friends, Arjun and Vikram, sat across from each other, their faces illuminated on one side by the warm glow of a table lamp. The chessboard between them was a battlefield, but their conversation would soon take a turn toward a far more contentious issue than the game itself.

 

Arjun moved his knight, capturing Vikram’s pawn. “Check,” he said with a smirk. “But honestly, Vikram, this whole Ranveer Allahbadia controversy is just another example of how people overreact. It was a joke, for heaven’s sake.”

 

 

Vikram leaned back in his chair, stroking his beard thoughtfully. He moved his bishop to block the attack. “A joke? Arjun, it was obscene. You can’t just say whatever you want and hide behind ‘free speech.’ There’s a line, and he crossed it.”

 

Arjun raised an eyebrow. “A line? Who decides where that line is? The Greek philosopher Euripides said, ‘This is slavery: not to speak one’s thought.’ Are we so fragile that a single comment can shatter our moral fabric?”

 

Vikram grinned, moving his queen to a more aggressive position. “Euripides also lived in a time when philosophers debated in the open air, not on YouTube. Free speech isn’t absolute, Arjun. Even John Stuart Mill said it should be restricted if it causes harm. And that comment? It harmed people’s sensibilities. It crossed into taboo territory.”

 

Arjun countered by advancing his pawn. “Taboo? That’s exactly my point. Why is sex such a taboo subject? Foucault argued that sexuality is a construct, shaped by power and society. Allahbadia’s comment, crude as it was, exposed how uncomfortable we are talking about these things. Maybe that’s why it struck a nerve.”

 

Vikram’s eyes narrowed as he considered the board. “Foucault also said that power produces knowledge. By making that comment, Allahbadia wasn’t challenging norms—he was reinforcing the idea that shock value trumps substance. And Freud? Don’t even get me started on the Oedipus complex. That comment was a Freudian nightmare.”

 

Arjun laughed, capturing Vikram’s bishop. “Freud would’ve loved it! It’s the ultimate taboo—parents, sex, and the family unit. Marx and Engels would say the family is just a construct to maintain capitalism anyway. Why are we so attached to this idealised version of it?”

 

Vikram moved his rook, putting Arjun’s king in check. “Because it’s not just a construct, Arjun. It’s the foundation of society. You can’t just tear it down with a crude joke and call it progress.”

 

Arjun studied the board, his expression turning serious. He moved his king to safety. “But isn’t that what free speech is for? To challenge the foundations, to make us uncomfortable, to force us to think? Socrates said true freedom comes from knowledge. Maybe Allahbadia’s comment, as distasteful as it was, made people confront something they’d rather ignore.”

 

Vikram sighed, leaning forward. “Or maybe it was just a cheap shot for attention. Not every provocation is profound, Arjun. Sometimes a joke is just a joke—and a bad one at that.”

 

The room fell silent for a moment, the only sound the ticking of a clock on the wall. Arjun moved his queen, placing Vikram’s king in checkmate. “Game over,” he said softly. “But the debate isn’t. Was Allahbadia wrong to say what he did? Or was he just holding up a mirror to our own discomfort?”

 

Vikram stared at the board, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Maybe both. But here’s the real question, Arjun: Would you rather or would you rather...?”

 

Arjun burst out laughing, shaking his head. “You’re impossible, Vikram. But that’s the point, isn’t it? The question isn’t meant to be answered. It’s meant to make us think.”

 

Vikram stood up, extending his hand. “Well, it worked. But next time, let’s stick to chess. Less controversial.”

 

As they shook hands, the tension in the room dissolved, replaced by the camaraderie of two friends who had wrestled with a difficult question and come out the other side—still disagreeing, but with a deeper understanding of the complexities of free speech, morality, and the human condition. And somewhere, in the back of their minds, the question lingered, unanswered and unsettling, a reminder that some truths are too uncomfortable to face head-on. But face them we must, or not?  Disclaimer: These are personal views of the writer. They do not necessarily reflect the opinion of www.business-standard.com or the Business Standard newspaper