If India’s democracy is still standing after scams, cyclones, cult leaders and campaign speeches longer than the Constitution itself, the secret isn’t federalism, institutions, or constitutional checks and balances.

No.

It’s our sense of humour, the nation’s original Z-plus security cover.

Think about it.

We don’t take laws seriously.

We don’t take gods seriously.

We certainly don’t take politicians seriously; we treat them like part-time prophets, part-time gym trainers, and full-time circus clowns.

Babas, gurus and motivational speakers have given this country many things, confusion, WhatsApp forwards, questionable diets, but above all, they’ve gifted us an impenetrable humour shield.

Thanks to that shield: Emergency couldn’t scare us, COVID got confused, and even Trump’s tariffs lost their way over the Indian Ocean.

And then there’s Bihar’s election. The biggest national joke delivered with a straight face. Even the winners are whispering: “Bro, what algorithm did Prashant Kishor write? Is this astrology or AI?”

In a country where people can start a civil war over how spicy a golgappa should be, how do we survive elections, riots, reforms, and Arnab Goswami?

Simple.

We beat anger with LOLs, not lathis.

From Piloo Mody to Raj Narain to Lalu Yadav to our beloved Rahul Bhaiya, we don’t attack leaders, we roast them. And roasting, as every Indian knows, is cheaper than therapy.

The day Rahul Gandhi graduated from “Rahul” to “Pappu”, Congress realised: “Why burn trains when we can burn templates?”

And, India discovered the secret mantra: Humour is the quickest anger detox.

Modi’s 10-lakh suit may not have boosted GDP, but it skyrocketed the Meme Sensex to historic highs.

Photoshop factories popped up like startups.

GIFs outpaced GDP growth.

And bhakts didn’t riot, they simply announced Modi as the winner of India’s unofficial Met Gala: Best Dressed Leader.

Meanwhile, Kejriwal’s muffler is now Delhi’s official background music. His cough has better public connectivity than government WiFi.

This, dear world, is not a surgical strike.

It’s a satire-cal strike, the most peaceful weapon of mass distraction.

Cartoonists, comedians, meme lords, these are India’s real ICU doctors.

When tempers rise, they attach a quick IV of punchlines.

If the brain overheats, they apply a cold compress of sarcastic memes.

And, when the nation begins to boil, one potent forward on WhatsApp brings the temperature down.

UN Peacekeepers?

Unnecessary.

One spicy, well-timed meme can prevent a riot.

If we truly want national peace, we don’t need ACs; we need AC jokes.

Schools must offer Advanced Sarcasm 101.

Colleges need Democratic Mimicry Labs.

The Union Budget should launch a National Meme Mission.

And, the government must protect satirists like they protect nuclear scientists.

These people carry bombs without the bang.

But please, for national security, can we relax the “hurt sentiments” law?

The biggest industry India produces, satire and laughter, keeps getting shut down for “emotional over-speeding”.

Only in India can you legally roast a politician 100 times a day, and still wake up the next morning to find the country standing tall and the politician trending.

Our national doctrine is simple: Crack jokes, not skulls. Create memes, not mobs. Roast leaders, don’t toast the nation.

The Humour Times, along with India’s cartoonists, satirists and meme artists, are not just entertainers; they are the unofficial custodians of national blood pressure. Whenever a clash seems imminent, they pull the laughter handbrake just in time.

So, remember this and engrave it somewhere: Punchlines cut sharper than swords, Satire hits harder than sticks, and humour, ah, humour blows up bigger than any bomb.