Ignorance is Bliss

Recently I was sitting in a restaurant. I wanted to order the day’s special soup. One reason was laziness. I didn't want to evaluate the four or five soups listed on the menu card and choose one. In spite of investing all my investigative energies in the selection process, I might end up with a concoction that I didn't like. The second reason was the promise in the magic word, ‘special.’ I felt this was the soup the chef would devote special attention to while the other soups would be routine affairs. I quickly made up my mind and told my friend that I'd go for the day’s special.

To my utter surprise, he laughed. I detected a tinge of superciliousness in his laughter. Before I could figure out why he laughed at my sensible suggestion, he said very firmly, almost imperiously, “Never order the day’s special in any restaurant.”  Still dazed, I looked at him with a “Why not?” in my eyes. “This is how they get rid of their stale stuff,” he replied with the self-assurance of schoolboy.

I don't know where he got this information from. I don't know if there is any truth in this allegation. But it got me thinking. I won't be surprised if restaurants dress up their stale stuff and get rid of it in a fashion that makes the guests feel delighted and privileged. Sellers who get rid of unwanted stuff routinely use smart framing to make the buyers feel that they are getting something special.

I was reminded of my mother who fed us kids with limited resources during the late 50s and early 60s when we had no power and so no fridge at home, in a small Kerala village. She would put finely chopped onions, green chillies, and curry leaves into dosa batter and make uttappam on the third day (if any batter was left over by then) and present it as a special treat.  We loved it and looked forward to it. It took me years to discover that unrefrigerated batter would be so sour by the third day it would be no fun eating dosa made of it.

Uttappam was a way to save the overfermented batter.  Did it matter? Not at all. For us it was an improvement on plain dosa.

Both these incidents came to my mind as I read last week about a YouTube video showing two top Pakistani anchors (Mubashir Lucman and Meher Bukhari of Dunya TV) coaching controversial real estate tycoon Malik Riaz Hussain on how to answer their questions. The whole two-hour ‘live’ TV interview was, in essence, scripted like some cricket matches.

I wonder how many fierce looking media encounters are genuine. While we enjoy scripted fiction, we have trouble enjoying scripted reality. The framing just doesn't look okay. Perhaps the old saying is right: “Ignorance is bliss.”

Photo credit: http://www.istockphoto.com