Language is not an issue

I am a world citizen. The universe is my home. I never deny my Indian lineage by birth. Nor do I shed away from my Goan ancestry and her rich cultural background when I’m repeatedly asked my place of origin. I’m no slave to boundaries or ethnicity – man made or divinely ordained.

I am proud to be Indian, even when foreigners think my country is inhabited by beggars, rag pickers and we eat yesterday’s leftovers for breakfast. I am proud to be Indian when my country is over and again criticized by her western counterparts for being primitive in thought and corrupt at soul. I am proud to be Indian even when I am confronted with ghastly pictures, flashed all over the internet, depicting our mighty tolerance as a democratic country in the face of Gujarat. No need to mention Punjab, and no need to mention Kashmir. Need I mention the hollowness of our regional politics, and our numerous examples in match fixing as a yardstone of discipline for our youth?

Do you agree we have lost track of who we are?

I confess people abroad break into a smile when I mention Goa. I smile too. Sadly, the reaction turns racist at the mention of India. Even if it is my countrymen and women who fuel the fires of their economy.

I belong to the 21st century – in thought, purpose, goal and direction. I also choose how I wish to communicate – Hindi, Konkani, Marathi, English or Portuguese. _Expression is universal, language just a medium to facilitate your mode of _expression. The manner of medium in no way determines my political affiliations (and I have none), my cultural values, my gene pool or the sense of pride I carry for my roots (and every Indian should). Or whether I’m a patriot, just because I favour a particular `politically sanctioned’ local language, or a traitor because of my inclination for a `foreign’ medium of speech. I fail to understand this `cleansing’ bid.

Similarly, we don’t need a political platform to decide for us how we should choose to communicate to each other. In words, in writing, in thought or action. So then, is the language issue, really an issue? If not, why does it rake its ugly head – politics and politicians have been giving it a dirty name in Goa – each and every time someone decides to organise a cultural-literary meet? I noticed it at the recently concluded `Festival of the Arts,’ Fontainhas, and I noticed it again at the Marathi meet at the Kala Academy. The speeches stink of personal biases. Sentences laced with sarcastic innuendo, reflecting mental boundaries and political brainwashing, spewing through the use of words. Oh, all you have to do is read between the lines.

I need not be born in Goa to say I love Konkani. My ancestors spoke it and they lived happily communicating their ideas and feelings. Their neighbours had no problems communicating with each other either, despite their cross-cultural influences. Similarly, I need not be born a Hindu to love Marathi – though I know a good many Christians who also speak fluent Marathi, my mother included. Both languages have their own nuances and their rich traditions. Both symbolise peaceful co-existence. And they should be allowed to live thus.

Really, people, governments come and go. Political agendas change with the next chief minister. What you are, you alone take it to the grave. If we thought thus, this would be a peaceful nation.
 

Ethel Da Costa
February 7, 2003

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