Spare some words for your mother tongue

Acouple of months ago, a friend lent me the script of a play penned in Hindi. It was a classic titled Andhon Ka Haathi, a political satire by the Late Sharad Joshi, a renowned writer, whose works I had read as part of school assignments. Perhaps, the last time I had ever read anything in Hindi. So when the tiny book landed in my hands, I was excited. The same night, I ticked off all the boxes for the perfect reading experience — switched on the bedside lamp, put the mobile on silent and away, and made myself a cup of Hibiscus tea. I was ready to romance the yellow dogeared pages.

But within just a few minutes and barely any pages down, I found myself struggling. It took some time to get a grasp of the words. I was missing the pace of reading, compared to when I read in English. Every now and then, I was halting at words, wondering what they meant. Nevertheless, I read the script in its entirety the same night. I relished the experience, I told my friend, who by the way went ahead to direct, produce, and stage a full-length play on the classic. The show received a lovely response from the Hindispeaking Dubai audience, suggesting there was something that many of us had been missing.

I confess the whole exercise of reading left me feeling restless. I began to wonder, why don’t I read in Hindi anymore?

I confess the whole exercise of reading left me feeling restless. I began to wonder, why don’t I read in Hindi anymore? The fact that books in Hindi aren’t easily available in Dubai can’t be the only reason. There’s always Amazon. Am I forgetting the language, widely spoken in India (especially northern India, where I come from)? But I do converse in it. I am a big fan of Bollywood films and my current play list, too, suggests my love for the language. Yet, I can’t recall the last time I stopped at a listicle titled Season’s Best Sellers in Hindi. Or picked up a pen to write in the language, even my name.

There is a certain distance that’s come in between the language and me. Can I bridge the gap with ease, maybe not? Can I write in the language, maybe not? I don’t think in the language, anymore. At times, of course, I come across a verse in Hindi that stays with me for days, weeks. But then there’s something I can do — once in a while, I can attempt to devour the language, the written words. For the essence of a language truly lies in words — the written words. Sadly, languages become alien when we stop reading in them.

I don’t know what language you speak, but I hope every now and then, you indulge (even as you struggle) in your mother tongue, or the language you grew up with.

— purva@khaleejtimes.com