I am a Mumbaikar. And I no longer speak pleasant Hindi. I am a Maharashtrian. But my Marathi isn’t chaste. I am married to a Bengali. My Bangla is shaky. However, I proudly and fortuitously speak ‘Bambaiya’ pretty well. It deserves popularity as one of India’s 22 official languages. Bambaiya is unique. It is unique. It is a bhelpuri of several languages and dialects. It is likewise the official language of Bollywood. And as we all recognize, Bollywood is a State unto itself. It lives with the aid of its very own guidelines. Bambaiya is the lingua franca of showbiz. It has been in energetic usage for more than five years, no longer simply inside the film studios, but throughout the board, the world over, anyplace there are designs. Today, it’s the most understood language, irrespective of whether you are in India or overseas. Why? Because it’s miles neutral. It belongs to no one. No State can claim it as its very own. No political birthday celebration can appropriate it. It is a non-hierarchal. Democratic. Mainly gender-neutral. Besides, it’s miles adaptable and evolving continuously. New phrases and new terms creep into it when no person is calling. While visiting via India, far Bambaiya generates an instant reaction. Unconventional, irreverent, and colorful, I am a large fan of Bambaiya and luckily use it, particularly once I visit across the world and run into Indians and Pakistanis. Everybody gets Bambaiya. Try it.
“Tel… maalish… champion…” Remember that Johnny Walker in Pyaasa lustily offers a head rub down with the one’s catchy words, sung with the aid of Mohammed Rafi. No translation becomes needed. Everybody connected and sang at the side of him. Over time, the informal ‘aapun to open’ tapori slang of Mumbai’s suggest streets went mainstream. And quickly, India Inc. began to adopt its incomparable informality. I was to endless pinnacle dog dinners in whmanymber of the wealthiest guys in India have been discussing mega offers and the usage of the infectious Bambaiya idiom. All those recollections returned to me when the Hindi debate hit the headlines. Why Hindi? Who speaks it out of doors, Delhi? Even inside the capital, shuddh Hindi is not often heard. Sarkari babus switched fortuitously from Hinglish to Bambaiya and returned to their mom’s tongue. English itself has been bastardized past recognition.
“Mangled!” mourn purists. “Jai ho!” exult millennials. Speaking approximately this unique demographic of the alarmingly younger Indians, who shape the substantial majority (47 in line with cent of 1.3 billion wage earners), our fairly smart Bachchan has a vocabulary of their own, neither Hindi nor English. It is Youth Speak. They don’t have time to finish sentences… or coherent concepts. They speak in abbreviations and write in signal language. Their pleasant communique is via emojis, and they, without a doubt, don’t recognize what the fuss is about. Hindi? Chill, year.
I agree. We need to relax. Dunno why there’s this sort of ruckus about Hindi being ‘imposed’ at the relaxation of India. Are we sheep? Mice? Who will dare to impose whatever? Let citizens determine which language they need to speak in. Give humans options — many, many options. Let this technology of vibrant, young minds now not be trapped in the politics of language. The richness of our country lies in its range of cultures and bhaashas. What did the draft committee at NEP (New Educational Policy 2019) think while encouraging a 3-language formula? Why should Hindi be made obligatory till Class XII? I grew up with a wretched three or four-language education machine I detested. I had 0 preference! Most of the women in my college came from backgrounds with more than one language spoken at home. Yes, all of them lived in what became then Bombay, but in a class of 45 students, possibly just 3 or 4 were Maharashtrian. Our curriculum was made up of Marathi, Hindi, English, and one overseas language (maximum opted for French). Most people did not aspire to get more than 35 in keeping with cent in these languages. English, of the route, changed into exempted from this listing of schoolgirl grouses. Despite our sketchy, detached approach to acquiring language skills required via the State, we got by properly. I am no longer certain what number of students opted for Pali and Sanskrit, but I am certain they have been supplied.
We need to suppose beyond the dominance of any one language organization. Hindi may be an option. But so can Tamil, Assamese Te, Telugu, or Gujarati. We have many rich and ancient languages to pick out from. We have our concept of English, too. No better hybrid exists in the international. However, the language that will be the most useful to the master in the future is Mandarin. Chinglish is my preference for destiny. However, I will never turn my lower back on Bambaiya in the uncooked! I remain an everlasting and unabashed fan of the Asli countrywide lingo. Happy to have the well-known Bambaiya as my ‘father tongue’. Aapun ko to vahichch pasand hai.
