Language in India – A Barrier or a Bond.
When travelling to one place, to enjoy the location, the beauty, the intense impact of change, one must possess the appreciative eyes of a wanderer and the intellect to understand the locality.
India, culture as vast as ocean, adapts a new language within few kilometres. Each state has it’s own unique flavour and accent acceded with the culture, from the Lakhnawi Tehzib to the Haryanvi Sarcasm. Language in India is defined by the the accent and speech with each region being different; though easily recognised is not easy to be deduced. It’s ingenious how the few emphasis on syllables can make a huge difference. For example in British English the hard emphasis on ‘H’ makes ‘Hello’ sound like ‘Ellow’.
Language in India is a matter of recognition, you can find bonds being made just by a common means of communication. Language is a barrier that can be lifted only by knowledge, as you can roam around in the extensive rural or urban areas and will, still, find yourself astounded by the complexity of language.
“Thepla” is a wonderful Gujarati dish stuffed with Chane ki Dal in a Paratha. It sounds alien to few of the readers but it’s assuredly a Stuffed Paratha. So when you visit Gujarat, be sure to taste this exquisite delight. If you hadn’t known that you would have missed a delicious Indian Food.
Another example of this frequent adaptation of language is the word “dog” in Bihar which is called “Kukur”. Add “Mutta” to it and you will have “Mushroom” i.e. “Kukurmutta”. In Uttar Pradesh, people often address themselves as “Hum” (we), and the royal decree also uses the same pronoun to address themselves. Even the addressing in every culture is different from each other.
When I visited UP, a state of many wonders for marriage of one relative of mine it became quite tough to interact with the locals. Firstly I didn’t understood the village language at all, I just watched their mouth moving at a pace and used my head to interact, i.e. nodding and shaking.
Nonetheless, when I was roaming in the pavements, wandering through the fields and wondering about the beauty it had to offer, I stumbled upon another hurdle when I decided to quench my thirst by mineral water. The bottle was of 18/- and I gave him a 100, the next the gentleman asked was, “Footkar Nahi hai?”.
Unaware of knowing what is Footkar I looked at my feet in the delusion that, if I offended thesanctity of shop by bringing shoes inside, and discarded the idea that seemed very inane. I asked again “Kya?”, then he rubbed two coins together and my fatigued mind understood the meaning of footkar. It wasn’t long as it appears right now but even the fraction of seconds was enough to leave anyone embarrassed.