Samir Shukla
By Samir Shukla
I laughed hard the other day. A really good belly aching laugh. I was not watching TV or reading something funny. There were no comedians around. It was just a typical Thursday afternoon sauntering about the house after work. I was walking across the living room, bare feet, and my right leg seemingly developed a brain of its own. A pranking body part, if you will.
The leg did a shuffle and swung to the right, and I stubbed the big toe on the corner of the sofa, hard. I felt like I was in a slapstick movie or physical comedy sketch coming to life in the living room as I bounced around a few seconds on one foot, holding my toe. I was a character in one of my favorite old Looney Tunes cartoons.
In those slapstick films, cartoons and sketches, the clumsiness is coordinated. This flattening of the toe was wholly unintentional and rather painful. But it made me laugh.
It seems the further I travel into my sixth decade on the rails of life, the more my body parts have increasingly begun playing tricks on each other. My own bones and scrawny muscles conspire and occasionally trip me up. Just for fun. The brain, the alleged protector of the body, goes along for the cheap laugh.
On that Thursday it was the toe that got in the way of the leg making its own merry fun. The initial burst of pain and anger quickly turned into laughter. What else to do with your own clumsiness?
I slapped my right knee as if to goad it into behaving. I let out some warm words and got mad at myself. The toe hurt and now my belly ached, from the ensuing laughter.
There’s nothing more self-defeating than getting mad at yourself. I’m convinced that a good portion of the conflicts, arguments and dissonance in the world are due to people’s own frustrations with themselves. Taking out their anger on the world or anyone nearby when they really should be slapping their own knee, realizing their own clunkiness and having a good belly laugh. Correct course.
Everyone has their own abilities and limitations, awkwardness and gracefulness, strengths and weaknesses.
We are an anomaly among all the species on this planet, with too many emotions and wide range of diverse physical bodies stitched together by nature, chugging along in the greater circles of life. We conquer and we stumble. We sing and we moan.
It may not seem like it, but sometimes that stumble – banging the head on a low ceiling, elbows landing on chair tops – these otherwise meaningless missteps offer a way in bettering ourselves. Laughing at ourselves, critiquing our own occasional stupidity or mishaps, these parameters of slapstick comedy are actually tiny slaps of reality checks.
My self-anointed importance of trying to be smooth, suave and dashing have been reset by the reality of revolting body parts. Sure, the bones crack and ping, but the increase in personal clumsiness, mini accidents, is humbling, in a good way.
When such an incident happens, and after a good laugh, clarity emerges. All that oxygen intake, after all, is good for the brain.
A few seconds after impact on that Thursday afternoon, while the toe was throbbing and teeth gritting with anger, I started giggling and then burst out laughing as if a fast-paced comedian was firing away funny jokes. That momentary real life slapstick sketch patted me on the back, telling me that sometimes the best laugh is laughing at yourself.
Here’s a thought. Look in the mirror and make wise cracks at your own behavior. In a world of incessant chaos this is liberating. Relaxing. An assessment of self, accompanied by laughter can be meditative. It’s a healing act of being joyful. Even when a body part might be aching or bruised from a stumble, this joy can be infectious. You feel like passing on this feeling of joy to others. Make them laugh, bring them along into the human commons.
Yes, sometimes a tripped foot can turn into serious injury. That is one of the pitfalls and unknowns of life. I’m not laughing at anyone’s misfortune. Aging bodies are clearly more prone to accidents. I laugh at myself when I trip on something. The steps you take for the rest of that day will be more cautious and thoughtful. That is a positive reward in itself.
Slapstick renames life with that energizing and somewhat rhyming word, laugh.
Samir Shukla is the Editor of Saathee Magazine.
Contact: samir@saathee.com
Twitter/X: @ShuklaWrites
Newsletter: shuklawrites.substack.com
