Graffiti and gaffes galore

They have been part of our public discourse. But with the youth migrating to social media, who will carry this legacy forward?

There was always this moral panic whenever the teachers saw any piece of writing on the wall. It may be a solemn declaration of love, an incendiary remark, a lewd expletive, a plain plaudit or even a rib-tickler. At some distant point in history, writing graffiti was seen as an expression of wit with brevity as its guiding force. Often, such creativity bloomed in squalid places.

A graffiti artist effectively combined intellect with stealth. He was an artful dodger who was accused of defacing the walls of all sacred places, including educational institutions; sometimes even the blackboards in the classrooms. Known for his pithy statements and aphorisms, a graffiti writer was also a linguist’s delight. But, today, there is a paradigm shift. The graffiti writers of yesteryears have metamorphosed into mobile phone users and have migrated to social media. A few who try to carry forward the legacy are found to be wanting and they resort to staid one-liners. In the past, the hurriedly and boldly written words used to carry the stamp of righteous anger and intrepidity. Today, the spoken word is making a comeback and the podium has emerged as the new marketplace where you can peddle your thoughts and ideas with utmost impunity. This is also the place where the English language goes on the fritz.

Rhetoric?

So, when a vice-chancellor says, “I says...” seven times or more with rhetorical finesse, he is mistaken for an Abraham Lincoln or a silver-tongued Srinivasa Sastri. Then a programme officer for National Service Scheme declares through the public address system, “All of you have to apply for passport, so that you can visit Kottayam and Aizwal,” you try hard to suppress a chortle. When a suave and natty Assistant Professor introduces you to the audience in an accented voice, “He is such a great simpleton and it is our fortune that he has chosen to grease the occasion” you go tongue-tied before you deliver the lecture. No one knows for sure which is rhetorical, which is farcical, which is whimsical, which is sentimental, or, for that matter, which is quizzical.

There comes a man of letters who declares pompously, “Coffee is not my cup of tea” and it creates a sort of cognitive dissonance for a while. But a panegyric from a budding rhymester finds resonance with the audience: “Benet is good as gold/He is sad as silver/He is bad as bronze/He is cool as clay/ He is mild as mud/He is silent as sand/In toto he is down-to-earth.”

It was embossed on a card in golden letters and given to me on a platter after the writer’s exposition of it. I didn’t fall for it, but I accepted it with the best phoney smile that I could bring to my face. Similarly, when a colleague of mine was complemented for his wonderful pronunciation and for speaking English like French, he was ecstatic. However, when your own student introduces the visiting scholar as “a jokey man and he is well known among the young scholars for his quickies,” you start squirming on your seat and watch helplessly the visiting scholar’s face growing pale by the seconds. Inadvertently, levity, at times, undermines the authentic spirit of the speaker.

Gaffes can make your body tingle, raise your mane, send shivers down your spine, give you goose bumps or simply make you retch. But they are part of our public discourse. The bottomline is, today, there are no holds barred gaffes that alone make people appear as grandiloquent speakers.

The writer teaches English at National College (Autonomous), Tiruchi.