Opinion Marathi doesn’t need aggression to protect itself. It only needs to become inviting
Language is more than words — it’s memory, comfort, and connection. Those who resort to violence in the name of Marathi, forget this
Time and again, we have seen that cultures that take pride in their past forget to invest in the present. They lapse into a sorry state of victimhood I am Marathi, though I have never lived in Maharashtra. Growing up in neighbouring Madhya Pradesh (MP), my parents made a conscious effort to hold on to the language and the culture. I would speak English in school, Hindi with neighbours, and Marathi at home. When I came across a fellow Marathi speaker, I would feel an innate compulsion to converse with him in our common language. Speaking in the mother tongue felt natural, like slipping into comfortable clothes as soon as one reaches home.
Often, I would find both Marathi speakers lapsing into Hindi even with each other. To them, Hindi might have been the language of upward mobility. As someone who had an equal footing in multiple languages and was therefore privileged, I felt worried about the larger cultural impact of vernacular languages losing its people drip by drip. English, too, remained an aspiration for many. It would be much later that I would realise that it was the language of jobs and cosmopolitanism, of having found a place in the world.
The idea that vernacular languages and their broader cultures need to be preserved is unquestionable. But it is insulting to think that Marathi can be allowed a “lease of life” only through the repression and subjugation of non-Marathi speakers. Seeing “language justice” being meted out to unsuspecting, hardworking individuals for the apparent “crime” of not speaking Marathi pains and baffles me in equal measure. If we even consider that the “activists” are acting in good faith, moved to action by their love for the language, consider this: Do they think that assaulting someone and inflicting terror will somehow evoke love for Marathi in the hearts of non-speakers?
Or do they believe this “hard-love” approach will somehow boost the ability to learn a new language? The lawless behaviour on the streets and in shops of Maharashtra risks tarnishing everything the language stands for. Marathi is a sweet language. But it is also a language that can raise its voice against injustice. It can lull you to sleep and also wake you up to reality.
Humans, by nature, nurse a deep desire to connect. I know several non-Marathi speakers who would rummage through their vocabulary to introduce a word or a phrase of Marathi while talking to me. It was their way of trying to connect, and slip in that they had spent some time in Maharashtra or knew a Marathi speaker and had picked up a few words. “Kasa kay (how’s everything),” they would say to me, waving and smiling. I would try and return the favour with a “Bhalo achhi (I am well)”. Our pronunciation wasn’t always perfect, the sentences didn’t always make complete sense, but it didn’t matter. It was the effort that counted.
Which brings me to my other thought. Time and again, we have seen that cultures that take pride in their past forget to invest in the present. They lapse into a sorry state of victimhood. They will blame everyone but themselves as they burn through their days and nights wondering what was and what could have been. What Marathi needs is not strong-arm tactics but gentle nourishment. The state needs to stamp out anti-social behaviour in the name of Marathi. But it also needs to find a way to help people find a way into the language – not just “outsiders” but even those who have lost their connection with the language. The next generation holds the key to a future where Marathi exists. If the language is made “cool”, given the right tools and support, the culture will live on. Instagram reels, often derided for their content, can be one way for bite-sized entertainment in Marathi that hooks people in. Once interested, Marathi has enough to satiate a person’s curiosity and intellectual hunger. You only need to lead them to it.
swapnil.joglekar@indianexpress.com
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