The Range of Inspiration and Inquietude in Hindi
Puja Birla
He was extremely unhappy and his distress had everything to do with Hindi. He was saying – What more can be done, all this Hindi publicity and propaganda is not working out.
My eyes lit up like suns when I heard about Hindi’s gloomy state of affairs. Finally, the wheels of fortune had turned. It takes twelve years for garbage to turn into something usable. Hindi can’t take longer than that! After all, our Hindi is not any worse off than garbage.
At long last, a solution was in sight, the kind that can transform a scabrous piece of coal into the iridescent diamond in a queen’s crown. I eagerly pounced upon the opportunity to help. He assessed me as he tapped the stem of his eyeglasses, felt reassured, and said, “Let me know if you have someone in mind who can do a good job of explaining the Hindi language in English.”
I said, “How about getting someone who can explain Hindi in Hindi?”
He got annoyed. “What will we gain by explaining Hindi in Hindi?”
I said, “We gain? Aren’t we talking about Hindi’s gain?”
He looked aggrieved and said, “You people never understand. I’m talking about foreign countries. It’s in other countries that we must shed light on the significance of Hindi by using publicity and propaganda. I want to take Hindi with me on a foreign tour.” (He didn’t say he wanted to go on a junket to foreign countries, riding on Hindi’s coattails). “Many people have come and gone, and in the interim they have managed to understand, in English, a fundamental feature of Hindi.”
“And what’s that?”
“That Hindi is an impoverished language. While it has seventeen synonyms for sun, there’s only one for rats.”
He wiggled his brows up and down. Then he tried to mollify me: “An English expert said it; he must have come to this conclusion after much reasoning and contemplation. Perhaps one has a better chance of getting grant money if one says such things. In any case, there has to be some appropriate reason for saying it.”
“The reason could also be ignorance—in other words, the level of mastery of the Hindi language among English experts. Or it could be that grants are given to those who need it most.”
He got defensive and said, “Please don’t accuse me of anything. I’ve elevated seventy percent of the Hindi writers from bumming around on foot to jet-setting in foreign locales. Isn’t it a matter of pride for Hindi that one out of every three writers has been abroad? I’m ensuring that those writers who start out in Premchand’s tiny little Lamhi, make it to Los Angeles. Is this work any less important?”
“But I’m talking about Hindi, not Hindi writers.”
“I am, too. I’ve tried so hard for your Hindi. I’ve sent it out with cultural delegations, packaged it in rich literary heritage, tied it to political amity, always sending it here and there. I’ve tried to publicize it, encourage it everywhere. For some inexplicable reason all this song-and-dance, the skirts and kurtas, the ceramics and chillum-hookahs reach their intended destination, but what doesn’t get anywhere is Hindi. It’s the one thing that remains stuck in place.”
“Actually, you can’t say Hindi remains stuck in one place. It’s more accurate to say that ‘unforeseen,’ ‘unavoidable’ circumstances force all these emissaries to cut loose and abandon Hindi at the last minute. They deliberately lose Hindi while making excuses for a ‘genuine mistake,’ respectfully offer apologies for omitting Hindi from their stuffed suitcases and itineraries brimming with cultural activities.”
“Say what you like.”
“Let’s talk about Hindi but not in Hindi—that’s what I get from all this.”
“You are making a mistake in blaming us. We have surplus export-quality Hindi stockpiled but not even a Hindi speaker is in the mood to buy it. Should I have a ‘sale,’ do whatever to break even? We are extremely generous toward Hindi, always on the lookout for any interested parties, whether they are small retailers or big businessmen. We always try to ensure that every organization, every office has a Hindi section or a Hindi room in a corner, behind the staircase, anywhere.”
He carried on. “Hindi should get at least enough work to be on its own, become self-sufficient. How can it possibly sustain Hindi speakers when it can’t even provide for itself? See for yourself the way the unemployed run in the opposite direction when they encounter Hindi, as if it were the worst of all inauspicious omens. If it remains in this destitute state, how will Hindi maintain itself and nourish and clothe India? What is needed is the participation of people like you, who can encourage it in the right direction; take on the responsibility of uplifting Hindi; instead of treating it like an untouchable, eat the beggarly gram snacks that are Hindi’s staple and accept the water it offers; travel in Hindi’s rickshaws; let it live on the footpaths and protect it while it sleeps there, and…translate my writing and speeches into A-one English…”
I was livid as I stood up, saying, “Forgive me but Hindi doesn’t need your pitying, your moralizing charity or the footpaths. What it wants back is its forgotten self-respect, its honor, its prestige, its deserving prominence and its pride—”
He interrupted me mid-sentence: “Why don’t you make a complete list of Hindi’s demands and complaints, get it translated into English, and file it with our department as a record? We’ll take action immediately. We’ll keep you informed.”
