The Language of Loss by Daud Haider
https://ramamohanraocheruku.blogspot.com/2021/04/the-language-of-loss-by-daud-haider.html
The protests that erupted on February 21, 1952, in then
East Pakistan against the imposition of Urdu launched the Bengali language
movement in Bangladesh, and is the nucleus of the International Mother Language
Day. The UNESCO recognition came in 1999, proclaiming it as a day to observe
and celebrate indigenous languages across the globe. The wish was to sustain and
develop the mother tongue or the first language, and safeguard the precious
heritage of world languages. Is it happening in reality?
Indigenous languages, like most ethnic cultures,
increasingly have a localised
and restricted existence — overwhelmed by global
markets, global economics
and global corporates. The mother tongue is gradually
being dwarfed by these
staggering influences and is relegated to a marginal
space in the global village.
A UNESCO report states that nearly 1,500 ethnic
languages are globally
becoming extinct every day. Their place is being usurped
by foreign languages,
which facilitate and guarantee successful trade and
commerce and boost the
economy.
An in-depth knowledge of one’s mother tongue makes
assimilating foreign
languages and cultures smoother. Nordic countries, after
prolonged trials and
evaluations, have advocated learning two languages from
the primary school
level: The language of the land and the mother tongue. In
remote regions of
countries like Sweden and Norway, where people of various
ethnicities dwell
(mostly migrants on political grounds), primary schools, as a
rule, teach
indigenous languages. I have seen Bengali being taught in a number
of
suburban schools of Sweden, Norway and Finland. The students are mostly
primary
schoolchildren and their parents are political migrants; teachers
largely hail
from Bangladesh while a few are from West Bengal.
Of late, several German states have instituted this
system, primarily
responding to appeals from the Turkish people. Since 2015, it
has included
Arab refugees. Bangla, Hindi, Urdu and Tamil are yet to find a
place partly
because students are fewer and proficient teachers are not that
easily
available. Another reason is that the number of refugees from the
subcontinent is dwindling; tough laws restrict their influx. However, Bengalis
have been living in the UK for ages. The British Parliament has a significant
number of MPs of Bangladeshi origin, who are now British citizens. At least a
dozen Bangla weeklies are published in proper London. Four TV channels
(one of
them in the Sylheti language) and six Bangla radio stations (FM
channels) run
out of England. Italy comes a close second with respect to
hosting the Bengali
population. There too, Bangla newspapers, TV and radio
are quite popular.
Portugal, Greece and Benelux (Belgium-The Netherlands-
Luxembourg) are home to
20,000 people from Bangladesh and West Bengal.
North America, of course, is way
ahead in this regard. More than a dozen
Bangla weeklies are published from New
York alone; radio and TV are equally
popular as are Bangla book fairs and
related programmes. The picture is no
different in Canada.
Bengalis, thus, seem to have a global presence. But can
the same be said of
their language, Bangla? Is it promoted and encouraged to
develop beyond its
boundaries? Not at all. Considering the fact that the
Bangla-speaking
population from the two Bengals occupy the seventh spot in the
world, the
Bangla language hardly holds any significant status. Though the
Asian
department in the Heidelberg University, Germany, teaches Bengali, the
number of students learning it are no more than a measly 10. The Berlin Free
University no longer holds Bengali classes. Reason? Lack of students. Learning
Bengali does not guarantee jobs abroad; nor are youngsters keen on
appreciating
Bengali literature. Bengali readers in Germany have barely
acknowledged the
works of any Bangla-language poet or author — their
interest has stopped with
Rabindranath Tagore.
In West Bengal, Bangla appears to be largely considered
the language of
Bangladesh; Hindi is acknowledged as the language of West
Bengal and
India. Before censuring such a claim, one needs to note that nearly
53 per cent
of people in Kolkata speak Hindi. Signboards in Hindi or English
are routinely
visible in different localities of Kolkata. In Bangladesh and
West Bengal,
parents send their wards to English-medium schools. Are they
equally eager
to introduce children to Bangla language and literature?
February 21 marks a day of sacrifice and of grief.
Sacrifice for one’s
mother
tongue. Yet, the day has assumed celebratory proportions since the
liberation
of Bangladesh and the ideal at its heart lies forgotten. We cannot
blame
anyone for this though. Poetry sessions, literary gatherings; month-long
book
fairs; the longest-lasting book fairs in the worlds; youngsters crowding
bookstalls, imbibing the “culture” of book fairs but not
exactly buying books —
these are embellishments we chose to be content with.
February 21 not just marked the movement for the mother
tongue; it led the
sapling of freedom to sprout and bloom in Bangladesh. It
instilled an
exuberance in us. We have been so euphoric about the day that I
forget it
happens to be my birthday too. My friends come and ask me on my
birthday,
“Do
we make merry today? Or do we mourn?” They remember I was born on
February 21,
1952, at Doharpara, Pabna. “The
Bangla language was born on
your birthday,” they say. I rephrase their good humour in a
rhyme or two: “I
live in my language/ And my language lives in me.”
Swasthi.