19 June, 2021

The Art Of Slaughter

The put-down exponent's profiles are quite unputdownable

The Art Of Slaughter
AN opening blurb tells us that Khushwant Singh calls Jug Suraiya "our own Art Buchwald". I strongly object to this. What inferiority complex makes us compare any of our kind to any Tom, Dick or Art of the western kind? Thus, Kalidas is our own Shakespeare though he lived centuries earlier. Likewise, Chanakya is our own Machiavelli, the epic Mahabharata is our own Iliad. And, of course, Raj Kapoor is the Indian Chaplin and recently someone had the gumption to actually call him our own Forrest Gump. For heaven's sake, why does a European or American not call Art Buchwald "our own Jug Suraiya"?

When I took up Jug Suraiya's The Great Indian Bores, I did what Khushwant Singh (you can't get the fellow off your back) does: look up the index first. If you figure in it, howsoever casually, then it is worth reading, even if cursorily. Otherwise you may throw it into the nearest waste-paper basket, or should I say trash-can?

Now this is not the way to approach a book. Was it Aristotle or Plato—or may be it was Sophocles or Socrates, who knows, they are all Greek...

In this article:

Latest Magazine

June 28, 2021

other articles from the issue

articles from the previous issue

Other magazine section