<p>"If music is considered the language of gods, laughter should be considered as the language of man", said my friend, known as the Plato of our locality. "All the riches of the world are sheer waste if there is no laughter in one's life." To drive home his point, he began letting forth many quotes stored in his computer-brain - "A laughter a day keepth the doctor away."<br /><br />Having said this, he looked at me expectantly. Perhaps my face was expressionless, for he tried another - "A merry heart doth good like tonic." I smiled. Encouraged, he tried another, this time from no less a person than Byron, the great poet! "Always laugh when you can, it is cheap medicine!" I laughed, realising that Byron wanted me to laugh.<br /><br />"Yes, Byron will be pleased," he affirmed. "He may come in your dreams today, and inspire you to pen a wonderful poem on laughter. Nobody has written poems on that subject... begin like this, ‘ Oh Laughter, thou has the power to make even the ugly beautiful, erase lines of age to appearance youthful, dispel fright by melting stress in streets, and pollution of personalities at home and hearth..."<br /><br />I gazed at him spell-bound; If laughter could make this down-to-earth man a poet, why, I can become a Shakespeare with my innate gift! So I decided to join the laughter-club the next day itself. It was just around the corner, with all the old men of the area publicising it by their regular running-race in front of our flats, heralding their arrival with various types of laughter, branded as Chinese, Japanese, Mongolese, Australian, American, etc. Mine should be typically Indian, I decided. "I should speak through my laughter." <br /><br />Yes, but the problem was, I had to be there early morning, and early morning was my inspiration-time for writing. He sighed at his inability to change me, then hit upon another brilliant idea all of a sudden. "How about enrolling your wife to the noon-club that's just a stone's throw away?" he needled. "Look at her, is she the same girl you married, that same sprightly girl?" <br /><br />"My mother, she is the dominating sort," I said. Forthwith, I poured out what all I had observed. "Personality pollution," he observed and convinced me to enroll her in that club. Was that, that easy?<br /><br /> "My, my, crying and laughing comes from birth. It is everyone's birth-right! As such, should one go to a club to learn? That too from a strange man? Never heard of such rubbish! In our days, we all used to laugh, cry, fight all the time, but nowadays nobody seems to have the time to even ask a single welfare question! Only the television and mobile do all the talking," Major Domo of our home protested as expected, but had to give in when I stood my ground. It was good that I did, for just a few days of attendance brought back the old glow to my dear wife's cheeks, sparkle to her eyes and more importantly, the former sparkling laughter.<br /><br /> "She is always laughing, I don't like it," the stiff-faced mother-in-law complained, and chided her. Daughter-in-law didn't flinch as before but laughed all the more, and loudly too. This infuriated mama as never before! <br /><br />Did it end there? The daughter-in-law began asserting herself gently. My friend was right, her subjugated personality had resurfaced. Sure I liked it, but not the mother-in-law. "I think they are conducting some sort of witch-craft over there!" she declared. <br /><br />"They have transformed my gentle daughter-in-law into a demon."<br /><br />"Stuff and nonsense! Why don't you go and see for yourself?" I challenged. That was my undoing. Deciding to give the wizard of the club a piece of her mind, the lady sallied forth. Left like Mahaali, returned as Mahalakshmi! <br /><br />Lo! My stern-faced mother also laughs now. Both mother-in-law and daughter-in-law laugh, laugh and laugh, as though practising for a competition, and hurry to the club, leaving me alone to attend to the doorbell, telephone-calls, maid-servant and of course, the children when they return from school. Excuse me, did I hear you laugh?<br /></p>
<p>"If music is considered the language of gods, laughter should be considered as the language of man", said my friend, known as the Plato of our locality. "All the riches of the world are sheer waste if there is no laughter in one's life." To drive home his point, he began letting forth many quotes stored in his computer-brain - "A laughter a day keepth the doctor away."<br /><br />Having said this, he looked at me expectantly. Perhaps my face was expressionless, for he tried another - "A merry heart doth good like tonic." I smiled. Encouraged, he tried another, this time from no less a person than Byron, the great poet! "Always laugh when you can, it is cheap medicine!" I laughed, realising that Byron wanted me to laugh.<br /><br />"Yes, Byron will be pleased," he affirmed. "He may come in your dreams today, and inspire you to pen a wonderful poem on laughter. Nobody has written poems on that subject... begin like this, ‘ Oh Laughter, thou has the power to make even the ugly beautiful, erase lines of age to appearance youthful, dispel fright by melting stress in streets, and pollution of personalities at home and hearth..."<br /><br />I gazed at him spell-bound; If laughter could make this down-to-earth man a poet, why, I can become a Shakespeare with my innate gift! So I decided to join the laughter-club the next day itself. It was just around the corner, with all the old men of the area publicising it by their regular running-race in front of our flats, heralding their arrival with various types of laughter, branded as Chinese, Japanese, Mongolese, Australian, American, etc. Mine should be typically Indian, I decided. "I should speak through my laughter." <br /><br />Yes, but the problem was, I had to be there early morning, and early morning was my inspiration-time for writing. He sighed at his inability to change me, then hit upon another brilliant idea all of a sudden. "How about enrolling your wife to the noon-club that's just a stone's throw away?" he needled. "Look at her, is she the same girl you married, that same sprightly girl?" <br /><br />"My mother, she is the dominating sort," I said. Forthwith, I poured out what all I had observed. "Personality pollution," he observed and convinced me to enroll her in that club. Was that, that easy?<br /><br /> "My, my, crying and laughing comes from birth. It is everyone's birth-right! As such, should one go to a club to learn? That too from a strange man? Never heard of such rubbish! In our days, we all used to laugh, cry, fight all the time, but nowadays nobody seems to have the time to even ask a single welfare question! Only the television and mobile do all the talking," Major Domo of our home protested as expected, but had to give in when I stood my ground. It was good that I did, for just a few days of attendance brought back the old glow to my dear wife's cheeks, sparkle to her eyes and more importantly, the former sparkling laughter.<br /><br /> "She is always laughing, I don't like it," the stiff-faced mother-in-law complained, and chided her. Daughter-in-law didn't flinch as before but laughed all the more, and loudly too. This infuriated mama as never before! <br /><br />Did it end there? The daughter-in-law began asserting herself gently. My friend was right, her subjugated personality had resurfaced. Sure I liked it, but not the mother-in-law. "I think they are conducting some sort of witch-craft over there!" she declared. <br /><br />"They have transformed my gentle daughter-in-law into a demon."<br /><br />"Stuff and nonsense! Why don't you go and see for yourself?" I challenged. That was my undoing. Deciding to give the wizard of the club a piece of her mind, the lady sallied forth. Left like Mahaali, returned as Mahalakshmi! <br /><br />Lo! My stern-faced mother also laughs now. Both mother-in-law and daughter-in-law laugh, laugh and laugh, as though practising for a competition, and hurry to the club, leaving me alone to attend to the doorbell, telephone-calls, maid-servant and of course, the children when they return from school. Excuse me, did I hear you laugh?<br /></p>
