Chandrabindoo fans were in for the time of their lives on November 17, when Chandril Bhattacharya and Chandrabindoo took to the GD Birla Sabhagar stage for Khwab, presented by Sanskriti Sagar and curated by Kriti Events in association with t2, in two separate segments to keep their audience entertained with two things the average Bengali adores the most: stories and music. Chandril especially, true to tradition, brought down the house with his signature wit and humour during his session, the first of the night, entitled ‘Abar Ashare’. A follow-up to a previous segment called ‘Ashare’, the section had the satirist telling stories we all know but with fabulous new additions and twists to them that left the audience in stitches. A quick t2 chat:
How important do you still think humour is in our daily lives? The world has changed a lot in, say, the last 20 years, and people’s lives are no longer the same…
It’s a misconception that there is less humour in our lives just because our lives have changed. I have been hearing this for a while now, that humour and wit have taken a backseat in the life of the Bengali, but I don’t believe that is true. Firstly, no matter how life is — unless it’s at an extreme, like if someone is at a concentration camp — there will always be humour, as will there be the scope to look for it and find it. There will always be people who can recognise that humour and people who can point that humour out to you. Of course, there’s no doubt that the Bengali’s life has changed — that may be politically or socio-economically; there have been new opportunities and people may have inculcated new, different habits — but there is no doubt that in the life of the Bengali, humour has not lessened.
Particularly on social media, the quantity of humour we see…. Some of it is bad, of course; some is crass, some don’t land, some are blunt or uncouth, but there’s also a big chunk of humour that’s very subtle and acts as social satire, that mocks politicians and those who are in — quote, unquote — power. And the ordinary man, who is not a writer or a poet or a comedian, can, if he wants, post a one-liner or a two-liner on social media, which starts circulating on WhatsApp almost immediately after. That’s when you truly see that the Bengali has no dearth of humour at all, still.
Maybe the things that spark or encourage humour have changed; like, previously there used to be jokes about fights going on in the Bangali bajar, now it’s about us constantly being hooked to our phones. Those changes are undeniable, because, as you said, our lives have changed. But the assumption that humour has changed or the Bengali’s attraction towards humour has changed or the capability to generate humour from a particular subject has changed is something I don’t believe is right.
Satire can be a double-edged sword, as it critiques while entertaining. How do you approach topics that could be sensitive or controversial?
See, there are lots of advantages to humour. You can exaggerate when you’re being humorous because humour gives you that licence, and then the average person tends to forgive that exaggeration. It’s much easier to attack a person or a subject by satire rather than by seriously stating what one thinks. The satire does not take away the sharpness intended for that subject but the attack itself seems less aggressive. That is a huge advantage that humour has. In that case, approaching a controversial topic through humour is beneficial because humour wraps up the attack in an armour, a shield. So humour can enrage you, but then the other person can get away by saying, “Arrey na, ami toh just moja korchhilam!”
Also, when I approach a controversial topic via humour, I don’t think of what consequences may follow. If I feel what I am saying is right and it is my opinion at that point in time, then I don’t think about what the fallout of a certain comment will be or what its repercussions will be because I don’t believe people think I am important enough to be paid that much attention to, or that people in power will do something against me. I am not that significant.
You often highlight societal flaws in your sets. What are some aspects of modern life you think most need the “humorous treatment”?
This near-compulsion we have of being glued to our digital screens all the time is something that needs humorous treatment — shob rokom treatment hoyeto psychiatric treatment o noye! There is not a single moment when a person is not glued to a screen in some way or the other, regardless of whether they are reading news or watching YouTube, or listening to music and looking at its soundwave, or texting on WhatsApp. People never lift their faces up anymore at all. I am convinced that a few days later ghaar ta aar shoja thakbena. Human race er thakbena, Bangalir toh thakbe nai! That is what needs the humorous treatment. We are making this addiction compulsory, which is surprising to me. Not one person is beyond it.
Bengalis think they are experts on everything from politics to cricket to cuisine. If you had to name one thing we truly know best, what would it be?
You’re right that we tend to self-overestimate but this tendency we have to continuously comment on what’s happening in the world around us is something I quite like, to be frank. Yes, of course, there’s a lot of trash on the Internet nowadays and people shoot their mouths as though they were put on this earth only to speak, but this constant tossing around of ideas that we do is quite nice. Because ultimately the world runs on ideas. Nothing else. So if a people or a race can keep that chorcha up — I accept that the majority of that chorcha is trash — but this continuous expression of opinions and debating is something I like. I feel like this is one department in which our jaati is ahead of the others. Normally the Bangali jaati is condemned, people think we talk more and we work less. But this continuous talking, this continuous bouncing around of ideas, is something I believe has kept our race ahead of all others.
Lastly, if you had to assign a Chandrabindoo song as the anthem of Bangali culture, which one would it be?
(Laughs) I wouldn’t know about an anthem but we wrote a song called Amra Bangali jaati, which I like a lot. We make fun of some typical Bangali traits in that song, and it’s one of my favourites!