Colour of language

   

 This is something which I wanted to write about for quite a long time. Colours of languages. Though I am a Malayali by birth, Malayalam is not the language close to my heart. I have been taught in English with Hindi as second language. English has been given greater prestige than Malayalam in the schools and the lower middle class society in which I grew up. 

    Moreover, English was considered an escape language. "You can use Malayalam only in Kerala. With English you can go anywhere". That was the kind of encouragement received for English learning. 

    Fluency in English was something that I craved for. I imagined myself talking in fluent English and impressing and astonishing everyone around me. 

    Because I grew up in a village where there was a scarcity of English teachers in the school, where social studies teachers were forcefully assigned to teach English. Plus, I lived in my cocoon not being aware of the world revolving around me, giving unnecessary importance to myself.

    Yes, so English was the medium of my education. And I happened to read more in English than in my mother tongue. Now, a slow reader in ability, who always chews and juices out words and phrases in my mind, reads English faster than Malayalam. 

The poet Kamala Das wrote, "I speak three languages, write in

                                                    Two, dream in one".

I speak two languages - Malayalam and English and bits of Telugu and Hindi. Write and dream in English. Mostly because I have my degrees in English Literature. And partly because English is my escape language. It is through this medium I learned about the wider world. About people, their thoughts and ways of life.

    On the other hand, my mother tongue is linked to my childhood insecurities. It is colourless or always sandal coloured. For me, limited in scope. No adventure. Conventional. Full of cliches.

    

I saw myself as a plain, dark-skinned insignificant person who would look ridiculous if I chose any other colours. The language was plain and direct, any show of emotions was considered shameful. Pinned to ordinariness. Anything out of the way was frowned upon. Because it was the language my people spoke, the language of my family and culture. The village was limited in scope as far as I was concerned. 

    As travel teaches and broadens the mind, it was English which took me out into the world. English became analogous to freedom and a new me and added colour and daring to my thoughts. 

Telugu to me is a loud language with a komban meesa.

Tamil in my ears is a soothing language with the undertones of a flowing river.

Hindi, a 'difficult' friend in need.