Tomichan Matheikal's blog

India has no national language because the country has too many languages. Apart from the officially recognised 22 languages are the hundreds of regional languages and dialects. It would be preposterous to imagine one particular language as the national language in such a situation. That is why the visionary leaders of Independent India decided upon a three-language policy for most purposes: Hindi, English, and the local language. The other day two pranksters from the Hindi belt landed in Bengaluru airport wearing T-shirts declaring Hindi as the national language. They posted a picture on X and it evoked angry responses from a lot of Indians who don’t speak Hindi.  The worthiness of Hindi to be India’s national language was debated umpteen times and there is nothing new to add to all that verbiage. Yet it seems a reminder is in good place now for the likes of the above puerile young men. Language is a power-tool . One of the first things done by colonisers and conquerors is to

Language is primarily a means of communication.  More importantly, it is the primary means of communication.  Secondarily, it is an integral part of culture; it is the most important carrier of culture. The struggle going on in Delhi against the English questions in the CSAT exams is a multidimensional struggle.  It seeks to anoint Hindi as a dominant language in India.  Indirectly, it is an attempt to impose the lordship of Hindi over the whole of India, though it may appear to be something much simpler and pro-poor. Some time back, when Mr P Chidambaram, then Union Finance Minister, visited Kerala he asked the man sitting near him to translate into English what a bureaucrat was speaking.  “But he is speaking in English,” answered the bewildered man.  [Chidambaram would have understood had it been Malayalam.] George Orwell This anecdote which became a quasi-legend in Kerala illustrates the importance of language as a means of communication.  Language is useless

Caliban and Prospero “You taught me language; and my profit on't / Is, I know how to curse,” says Shakespeare’s Caliban to Prospero, the man who taught him the gentleman’s language.   Caliban was no gentleman, however.  He was an evil spirit whom Prospero tried to civilise.  After all, civilising the savage is the white man’s god-given burden. Caliban cursed Prospero because that was his way of asserting his power.  He had been enslaved by Prospero, and words are the only source of power left when one is enslaved.  Words are powerful.  They can make or break people.    A recent study by psychologist Timothy Jay shows that children learn a lot of “bad” words even before they begin schooling.  They pick it up from their parents and other adults at home or around.  As a teacher in a residential school, I have observed how children pick up foul language much more quickly than the more desirable alternative.  The “bad” words carry a certain power, as far as childr