मेरी मातृभाषाएँ
*The English translation of the post is available below.
small cities and towns of western UP owing to the transferable job of my father.
‘latthmaar’ language (language that feels like getting hit with a stick). A Lucknowite would address
even people younger than him with respect, calling them ‘aap’ whereas in western UP, even parents
can be referred to as ‘buddha’ and ‘budhiya’ (old man and old lady).
head to the nani’s place in Lucknow. In the time it would take us to adjust to the new register,
everyone would make fun of us. But in couple of weeks, you wouldn’t know us from a nawaab. And
at the end of two months, the same process would repeat in reverse. Our friends back home would
look at us as if a ramlila character had wandered out of his dressing room in full costumes and
makeup.
language spoken in my house was neither the latthmaar language of western UP, nor the high
refined Urdu of Lucknow. It was a language called Modern Standard Hindi or Khadi Boli that got
prominence along with the freedom struggle and was adopted as the primary register of Hindi over
numerous other related languages like Awadhi, Brij bhasha, Budelkhandi etc. So neither Awadhi
that is the language spoken the region around Lucknow and neither Urdu, Modern Standard Hindi is
the language that can be called my mother tongue.
Lucknowite, you are an heir to an extremely refined literary culture but you can hardly stake a claim
to it since you never learn Urdu – it being a Muslim language. It is true that the language of a
Lucknowite would probably be more influenced in vocabulary and style by Urdu when compared to
other Hindi speakers but it is more like a fading impression.
familiarity with Urdu. Later while working on a Urdu-English Machine translation system during
my grad school, I also learned to read the Urdu script, something that I’ve forgotten now. If Hindi is
my mother language, I’ve always held Urdu also close to my heart. Hindi and Urdu are the only two
languages in which I can enjoy poetry. Despite the long association and familiarity with English,
there is still a emotional gap there that I find hard to cover.
two more languages. One of them is Maithili which is the mother tongue of my wife. MSH and
Urdu both are primarily city languages. In comparison, Mathili is a language closer to soil, full of
its sweetness. The famous Geet Govind of Vidyapati was written in Maithili.
my life. If we want to understand people in their own frame of reference, it is only possible in their
own language. Because I’m more interested in reading, I started by learning to read the script. While
the horizon of people you can speak to is limited to people around you, reading opens up doors
across space and time. And so I dream of reading Kannada writers in their own words one day.
day to celebrate the closeness I feel for them. It is also true that my familiarity with all three
languages is still cursory. But celebrating the mother language day without them would just feel
incomplete.