Swalpa Adjust Maadi!

Yeh Kya Hai……….? Asked the irritated clerk at the New Delhi Railway Ticket Reservation Counter to my Late Father (Om Shanti Dad!) The angry exclamation was because my Late Father (Om Shanti Dad!) had filled the reservation requisition form in Tamizh/Tamil, a language alien to the Clerk as one would expect. The clerk had handed the blank form to my Late Father (Om Shanti Dad!) which was in Hindi with no English in the reverse of the form as was the practice. My cheeky Late Father (Om Shanti Dad!) who was handicapped with knowing only rudimentary Hindi managed to put the same to use and a lot of common sense to make sense of the form and fill it up in his Mother Tongue. Tamizh Vazhga! The bemused Clerk who I guess was a well-meaning Haryanvi with a handicap worse than that of my Late Father’s (Om Shanti Dad!) His knowledge of Tamizh was way lower than My Late Father’s knowledge of Hindi, which was essentially Zilch. The episode however ended amicably as the Haryanvi dude grasped the issue immediately and proceeded to Ask, Hear, Write on behalf of my Late Father (Om Shanti Dad!) thus completing the formalities of filling up the form and closing the ticket sales activity. The Haryanvi dude went on to become a legend in Your’s Truly’s Family Circle whenever any topic with Language in it arose. (GenNext and GenZee looking askance at the above paragraph may kindly note: Those were the days before Google, Chat GPT, Internet and you were born. Welcome!)

As we moved cities to Calcutta then and Kolkata now, the capital city of Amar Shonar Bangla added to a few more anecdotes to the “Language” Stories. It was during a routine pandal hopping exercise during Durga Puja with a True-Blue Bengali, not so well-known to us then neighbor. As the Pandit ji danced to the tunes of the energetic Dhaak during the Aarti, the Bhodrolok dude asked my Late Father (Om Shanti Dad!) if he were a Brahmon (Brahmin in Bengalispeak you Boka!) On receiving the answer in affirmative, the next query was “ Aapnar Poithe aache?” (Do you wear the Sacred Thread?” The rudimentary in My Late Father’s (Om Shanti Dad!) language skills took over right on the cue! “Poithe Chilo, Maara gayche!” He blurted. (I had it but it died!) The Bhodrolok dude was as though struck by lightning! How can Sacred Thread die was his query communicated essentially through his eyes as he was still reeling to be in a position to put the question in words. To cut the story short, my Late Father (Om Shanti Dad!) and his “rudimentary” mixed up the Hindi word Pita (Father) and the Bengali penchant for converting every “a” to “o” thought Poithe is Pita in Shuborno Bangla!

On yet another occasion, me, a cool dude friend and my Late Father (Om Shanti Dad!) were standing on the pavement next to what seemed to be a well-covered drain. As we were generally chit-chatting, a Hygiene worker trying to earn his honest bread, requested my Late Father (Om shanti Dad!) to kindly move as he wanted to inspect the “Nardhoma”. And ‘Rudimentary’ struck again! “Nardhanam nahi aata, thoda gaana aata hai!” Thus spake my Late Father (Om Shanti Dad!). If you still haven’t got it, “Nardhoma” apparently is drain and the rudimentary made it into “I can’t Nardhanam (Dance) with a “can sing a bit”! for special effects! 

Languages are a many in India. We are a cosmopolitan society as most migrant societies are. So the next time you walk into a SBI or Canara Bank branch and the ‘Just arrived on transfer’ customer service associate struggles with his/her Kannada, “SWALPA ADJUST MAADI”!