Sunday, August 12, 2001		Article

Sentinels of slander
I.M. SONI

A "gentleman" once asked me if I had spent six months in a mental asylum afterI had an unsuccessful love affair. I was stunned but he was sure that I was lying. Much later, I came to know that the "lunatic" in his story was another man with the same surname as mine.

Who cares to cross-check? Not the spiteful gossip. Physicians examine the tongue to detect the diseases of the body. Wise men do so to find out the diseases of the mind.

Gossip is the art of putting two and two together to make five. If all persons knew what others said of them behind their back, there would be no friends left in the world.

The spiteful gossip has plenty of spare time but little consideration. He has a cluster of petty ambitions but precious little intelligence. However, he possesses a remarkable ability to spread any information that he was come by.

In this respect, he is like the woman who rushed to pass on a bit of malicious gossip with the remark: "I must do it before I come to know that it untrue". Delay, in such cases, is disastrous!

A close look at the gossip reveals that he is malicious, imprudent and murders reputations with his tattling tongue. He is oblivious of the fact that even to throw a malicious hint is to stab a reputation. Reputation is important. It matters to an individual. Character is what we really are. Reputation is what people think of us.

Richard Steels says, "Fire and sword are but slow engines of destruction in comparison with the babbler."

Another characteristic of the gossip is that he is a perfect combination of an empty head and an ever-wagging tongue. The Chinese have a saying that the tongue is only three inches long, yet it can "kill" a man six feet high.

The gossip’s empty head and sick mind show themselves in many ways. Readers may recall how empty heads spread the ridiculous story of Ganesh idols drinking milk offered to them by devotees.

Rumour-mongering is an affection common to most men and women. A German thinker singled out women as worse gossips. Personally, I disagree with him because I have known male gossips whose tongues virtually drips with delicious, colourful stories, especially about their female neighbours.

There is something in human nature which makes men gloat over the downfall or disgrace of others.

Of all quirks of human nature, rumour-mongering is the one that has caused maximum heartbreaks and disappointments. It has sullied untold reputations and has played havoc with the reputation of innumerable girls.

British author Katherine Frank’ biography of Indira Gandhi unfolds many sweet and sour stories about her biographies may be considered works of gossip. They may also be looked upon as histories. The difference between the two is that history is "objective and remote" whereas gossip is "personal and intimate". The latter also carries a stigma.

The gossip delights in leaking the "inside story". Whenever he stumbles upon a piece of gossip value, he visits a friend and whispers, "Have you heard?" And out tumbles an imaginary but spicy story.

A story-teller kills two birds with one stone: he assumes importance by showing off his acquaintance with the intimate details of other people’s lives, and at the same time makes others look stupid on account of their ignorance.

He has a sick but highly fertile imagination. He tries to embroider every bit of news and dramatise every event. Plain truth is unpalatable to him. After he retells even a simple story it assumes a colour and magnitude that is beyond one’s imagination.

Sheridan puts it: "So strong, so swift, the monster there’s no gagging, cut scandal’s head of still the tongue is wagging."

The gossip is a messenger of defamation. On its back rides slander. It blows away the soundness of reason and judgement. As it rolls on its way, it gathers more momentum and malice.

It seldom goes waste as some vicious tongue repeats it. It is a pipe blown by surmises and conjuctures which becomes a general clamour! Nip it on the lip.