India’s significant contribution to the world of mathematics is zero. And zero’s gift to the English-speaking world is shorthand. Yes, Sir Issac Pitman devised shorthand by cracking the zero. He was a sickly boy and therefore could not be sent for higher studies. So he worked on the ‘zero’ and gave shorthand to the world. This, in turn, led to the birth of the art (or craft) of stenography, which became a path to an assured livelihood to innumerable boys and girls from middle-class backgrounds over the decades.
What is interesting, in this connection, are the gems of wisdom Sir Isaac packed into his ‘Shorthand Instructor’. Some examples: “High hills grow less …all roads lead to Rome…Rome was not built in a day…If you want to become a fluent speaker, you must first of all be capable of expressing yourself adequately and well, and so on.
To give a spin to shorthand our own K.S.Iyer, the chief reporter of the goings-on in the Imperial Legislative Assembly, wrote in the introduction to one of his books on the craft: “Swift though the pen, swifter still the pen sped; the hand has written, ere the tongue has said”. Iyer was certainly entitled to claim some credit for the craft, more so its “High Speed Writers” because but for them the country would not have got, in a concise form, the many volumes of the Constituent Assembly debates.
Remember, this was before the days of electronic gadgets. There were no tape recorders, no dictaphones and, certainly, no computers! Being a great shorthand writer meant having a good grasp of grammar and vocabulary. But it needed another gift: the ability to hear, catch the nuance in tone.
A friend of mine, who was at one time chief reporter of the Rajya Sabha, had occasion to visit the European Parliament. He believes that the reporters of the Indian Parliament can be described as among the best in the world of that tribe.
India’s first prime minister, Jawaharlal Nehru, made good use of this tribe. There were never any drafts for him and fair copies would contain corrections that he made in his own hand. The account left by the late N.K. Seshan, who worked with him, bears me out. I have had occasion to see some of the otherwise now inaccessible correspondence that had emanated from his office.
Those who rose in this career were often the focus of envy because they got to associate with the movers and the shakers, in fields as disparate as the government and administration; law and corporate affairs. It was always presumed that this access could be harnessed for personal gain.
Yet, by and large, the shorthand writers of yore were a humble tribe, largely unhonoured and unsung.