I studied in a Kendriya Vidyalaya for most of my school life. Have always felt more of a KV-ite rather than any other institution I studied in. Perhaps it is because of the wonderful relationships I made there, perhaps it is because I felt as if I belonged there. There was only thing I have not missed till now-speaking Hindi. This post is not a diatribe against Hindi or Hindi speaking people. It is something to emphasize the need of regional languages and the need to promote the regional languages in India.
There are more than 1600 languages in India, with a majority speaking languages of Indo-Aryan origin and the rest speaking mostly Dravidian languages. Ever since the struggle for independence, there has been a cry to make Hindi the national language. Now, Periyar and the DMK were the main opponents of the Hindi-isation of the rest of India and the major reason why Congress was completely ousted from Tamil Nadu. Fast forward 60 years later and still, only 40% of the Indian population speaks Hindi. Yet, there is always this tug of war between Hindi and rest of the languages.
This tug of war permeates in every level when it comes to our globalised generation. Bollywood is more visible and accessible when compared to films of other languages. There is a trend to categorise films in other languages as ‘good cinema’, but hardly any effort to promote it in the mainstream. Every viably profitable movie in other major languages is remade in Hindi with added glitz and glamour (I used to think that Indian masala was the same throughout India till I found that there are linguistic differences.) instead of promoting the original movie. It is never potato, but always ‘aloo’. Relegating people from the any other region or speaking any other language to a sub-Indian level. I am not a Mallu, I am a Malayalee. I do not address my friend as a Bong, he/she is a Bengali. All Southies do not eat masala dosa and vada. And for that matter, there are Malayalees who haven’t even heard of Rasavada. Still, there is the tendency to ignore these subtle differences and resume the categorisation as Hindi speaking and not. I learnt Malayalam till I was nine years old and moved on to English and Hindi. My friends to this day cannot understand why I do not speak Hindi. It is simply because I felt that it was alien to me. I did not identify with the culture. Now there could be a point raised that that is because I am a Southie. Wrong. I once called a friend of mine in Mumbai a Northie and I remember her reaction to this day. My ears almost bled while she went on to explain quite vividly that she was from Bombay and not Mumbai and she definitely was not a Northie.
One of the many differences I have with some of my ex-schoolmates is that they prefer replacing mother tongues with Hindi after the primary classes. To them, regional languages are redundant in today’s world. I strongly disagree. Because only completely blind middle-class people, who have been brought up in the post-liberalisation era of India, who do not think of how the wheel turns in a macroscopic level can say that. How can we possibly ignore every other language on the list? How do we plan to take development to the remotest villages if we cannot speak their language? How can we understand the needs of hundreds of millions and ever increasing population if we restrict the mode of official communique?
But the most important issue is that of culture. I am culturally a Malayalee and politically an Indian. But that does not make me any less receptive of any other culture. My roots make sure that I have something to return to. Granted, I am not the typical Malayalee with all the Malayalee quirks or tastes. I grew up not speaking my language, being ridiculed by my family because every time I got emotional, I would ramble off in English. But my sweetest and best childhood memories are of thumbapoo and mangoes, of smelling the damp earth after the first monsoon rain, of not Onasadyas, but of the laughter accompanying them. I do not remember my bedtime stories being of Snow White or the Little Red Riding Hood, but of elephants whose names I can’t remember now and Yakshis and myths. That is the issue. Every region has its unique flavor, unique culture. Why do we need to homogenize it? Aren’t those memories and stories and flavor worthy of being passed on to the next generation? Does being a global citizen necessarily mean we have to push away our origins from us? Don’t we need to be aware of the cultural mediation and internalization of cultural schema so that we can promote our children’s better cognitive development? I do not think that is possible in an environment where instead of diverse stimuli, conflicting interactions are presented.
Paraphrasing, in the words of Octavio Paz, “What sets the world in motion is the interplay of differences, their attractions and repulsions. Life is plurality, death is uniformity. By suppressing differences and peculiarities, by eliminating different civilizations and cultures, progress weakens life and favors death. The ideal of a single civilization for everyone, implicit in the cult of progress and technique, impoverishes and mutilates us. Every view of the world that becomes extinct, every culture that disappears, diminishes a possibility of life."
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