September 2007, Bathinda, Punjab
On this particular morning, my mum, my sister and I set off for the bazaar to do some suit shopping. We came across this suit shop and were greeted by a young Singh in his 20's, one of the helpers in the shop. He greeted my mum:
'Hello Ma'am Ji. Kya chaahee ye aap ko? Sari ya suit?'
My mum ignored him and I was surprised at this because I found it rude that he greeted my mum politely and she didn't acknowledge it. But it wasn't long before I would understand the reason for my mums behaviour. Anyway, despite this, he kept on following us around the shop and pestering us, as is typical and expected. He was pestering us to look at the new ranges of material designs and pestering us asking:
'Ma'am ji, aap kaha se aaye hai? England ya america se?'
Finally, my mum spoke. She told him we were from India (not entirely a lie, as my mum was born there) but then she asked him where he was from. He laughed at her question stating it was clearly obvious by looking at him and by his speech that he was from Punjab. My mum replied:
'Je tu Punjab de vich rehnda te tainu disda ke saade hath'ch kara paayia, asee vee sikh, te tu vee Sikh, pher tu mere naal hindi kio bolda?'
I remember so clearly the boy looking at me with a confused face and me looking at him with a confused face. Both my sister and I understood that he was just joking with my mum and having a laugh and at the time, both my sister and I thought that maybe our mum was offended because she didn't appreciate his humour. But that wasn't the case. She asked him:
'Tu school'ch parda?'
He replied in Punjabi: ' Hunji ma'am mai school'ch parda'.
Mum: 'School de vich punjabi nai paraunde?'
Young boy: 'Hunj ji ma'am par hindi saada medium aa. Asee hindi hee bolde aa. Shop de vich saare kam karan vaale hindi bolde aa.'
By this point, a scene had been created. At the time I remember feeling embarrassed because everyone in the shop had their attention to us and the conversation, and the boy was talking with his head down. He was clearly embarrassed too. My mum asked him if he could read and write Punjabi, and still with his head down, he quietly replied: 'nai ji'.
Mum: 'Mainu pata, ke tera kasoor nai je tainu school'ch punjabi nai paraunde. Par ghatto ghat, tu mere naal punjabi bol sakda see. Eh saadi maa boli ya, je Punjab de vich asee aavde maa boli nu sambhaal nai sakde, pher aggo kee haugaa? Tu punjab da rehn vaala javaan munda ya, punjabi bol. Sambaal aavdi maa boli nu. Apni virse nu sambaal'.
My mum told him that she was no longer interested in buying anything from the shop, because she was disappointed that all the workers spoke in Hindi. At the time, I remember feeling so embarrassed that as we walked out the shop, even I walked out with my head down avoiding eye contact with anyone.
Hindsight is a great thing. When I look back now, I feel proud of my mum for making a stand and setting an example to not only me and my sister but to everyone who was in that shop. That conversation may or may not have changed the boys attitude but the fact of the matter is, that my mum demonstrated the importance of speaking Punjabi, so much so, that she refused to buy anything from the shop and aid its business. Now of course my mums actions didn't lose them any business that day but sometimes all it takes to really hammer a point home is to speak the truth and highlight the reality, which my mum did. And if the young boy didn't learnt anything from it, then my sister and I most certainly did.
So what is the importance of maa boli?
Time and time again, our parents and grandparents etc tell us it's important to learn Punjabi; to speak it, read and write it. But no one tells you why. Its fairly obvious though right? It's not something that requires much explanation. But for me, the answer is that all languages are important because language helps us communicate with the civilians of our world and communication, especially in this day and age of increased inter-connectedness, communication is key. The world is becoming a smaller place because of globalisation. If we can speak other languages, we can learn so much more from the rest of the world.
But 'maa boli' (mother tongue) is so important for the diaspora, for people like you and me. And here's why. If we learn Punjabi then it makes it easier for us to talk to our parents, grandparents, uncles and aunts etc. Our elders have so many amazing stories about our ancestral home, Punjab. Their struggles, their joys, the moments of laughter and pain. There's so much priceless knowledge and life lessons that can be exchanged, but if we can't communicate with them then all this will be lost. Only 2 months ago, I had a brilliant phone conversation with one of my relatives. He was sharing with me all his funny antics that he used to get up to in the pind as a young boy and it was the best conversation I've had. And he was equally happy that he could share his childhood memories with me. It's a conversation that I will always treasure.
Mirza Sahiba, Sassi Punnu, Heer Ranjha, Sohni Mahiwal. These are the Romeo and Juliets of Punjab. What do we know of them? There's so many more folklore stories, folk songs, poetry and novels which are literally gems of Punjabi literature and the authors equally as valuable. All this is at the heart of our culture. In fact, it's the heart of EVERY culture. Language is the soul of a culture and when it cannot be preserved or it is controlled, then the heritage of that culture becomes forgotten and lost in time too. Ultimately, it becomes harder to trace the truth and distinguish fact from fiction.
While I was growing up, there was a rule in my house:
'Punjabi ghare, Angrezi school' ('Speak Punjabi at home and speak English at school')
This was a rule that my sisters and I had to obey and if we were heard speaking English at home, we were fined our pocket money and for fear of losing our money, my sisters and I were afraid to speak English at home. Now, I can fully understand as well as appreciate these stringent methods that at the time, seemed so harsh. I am thankful to my parents for raising us in this way because had they not, I would have surely been a lot less culturally orientated today. I would have been a different person. I doubt I would have had the love for Punjabi culture that I do today. The songs I love and the stories. I would not have known of them, if I could not read Punjabi.
In this country and I'm sure in other countries where the diaspora communities have settled, there's a lot more emphasis on preserving Maa boli, as we are away from our ancestral home. But all you have to do to be reminded of the real problem, is turn the TV on to Punjabi news and see policemen/women and other uniformed officials speaking Hindi. And this is of course understandable but definitely not acceptable.
I'd like to end this post with one very short story. It's not from my personal experience, but albeit is a true story. This is a story told to me in my childhood; the moral being about the importance of mother tongue.
There was a Russian scientist who had just been awarded a national prize for his recognition in contributing to the advancement of science and technology in Russia. A great celebration was held for him on behalf of the government and as a result of media hype and coverage, he became well known and respected among his people. The scientist returned back to his home where his mother lived to show her the prize he received and to share his success with his mother. His mother showed no enthusiasm and nor did she praise him. Instead she told him that, in her eyes, he was nothing even though the rest of Russia hailed him as their greatest scientist. For he could not read or write in his mother tongue and so for her, he was nothing but a failure.
"When a language dies,
the divine things,
stars, sun and moon,
the human things.
to think and to feel,
are no longer reflected
in this mirror.
When a language dies,
all that there is in this world,
oceans and rivers,
animals and plants,
do not think of them,
do not pronounce their names;
they do not exist now.
When a language dies,
the window and the door
are closed up
to all the people of the world,
no longer will they be shown
a different way
to name the divine and human things which is what it means
to be and to live
on the earth.
When a language dies,
its words of love,
intonations of pain and caring,
perhaps the old songs,
the old stories,
the speeches, the prayers,
no one no matter whom
will be able to repeat them again.
When a language dies,
then many have died,
and many more will die soon,
mirrors forever broken,
shadows of voices
forever silenced.
Humanity grows poorer
when a language dies.
There was a Russian scientist who had just been awarded a national prize for his recognition in contributing to the advancement of science and technology in Russia. A great celebration was held for him on behalf of the government and as a result of media hype and coverage, he became well known and respected among his people. The scientist returned back to his home where his mother lived to show her the prize he received and to share his success with his mother. His mother showed no enthusiasm and nor did she praise him. Instead she told him that, in her eyes, he was nothing even though the rest of Russia hailed him as their greatest scientist. For he could not read or write in his mother tongue and so for her, he was nothing but a failure.
"When a language dies,
the divine things,
stars, sun and moon,
the human things.
to think and to feel,
are no longer reflected
in this mirror.
When a language dies,
all that there is in this world,
oceans and rivers,
animals and plants,
do not think of them,
do not pronounce their names;
they do not exist now.
When a language dies,
the window and the door
are closed up
to all the people of the world,
no longer will they be shown
a different way
to name the divine and human things which is what it means
to be and to live
on the earth.
When a language dies,
its words of love,
intonations of pain and caring,
perhaps the old songs,
the old stories,
the speeches, the prayers,
no one no matter whom
will be able to repeat them again.
When a language dies,
then many have died,
and many more will die soon,
mirrors forever broken,
shadows of voices
forever silenced.
Humanity grows poorer
when a language dies.
