Monday, February 28, 2011

A Dying Language

I happened to speak to a friend one of these days and it so happened that I started talking to him in Sindhi, just with the purpose of annoying him because he wouldn't understand what I am saying because he is not a Sindhi. Sindhi is a funny language just as is English. Now, there are many words whose pronunciation can't be figured out just by reading them. In fact, once you know how its pronounced you'll still require a lot of practice to ge it correct.Like, dado, though it may seem simple, but to pronounce it correctly one has to be talented enough. It involves a queer synchronised movement of your tongue and the vocal chords in the throat. And, yes some of it has to come from the nose too.
I realised how interesting it would be to learn this language when I was trying to make my aforementioned friend understand how he'll need to employ all his phonetic skills to say this word.
Its a dying language unfortunately(even though its dying a slow death, but it is dying). My mother made uncountable attempts to induce me to learning it but all in vain. I don't blame myself completely for it. It was  also the influence of my cousins who were always strictly against learning it (for reasons I never understood).
Moreover, its not only Sindhi thats disappearing from people's memories, there are actually many more (That need to be preserved, as is obvious from the point I am trying to make and from my inclination to devote an entire article to the subject).
I think i'll try to learn the language and also teach my children(if ever there are any, that is) the same no matter how much they grumble or frown at it; because we need to keep alive our culture (if not traditions).
 PS:The two reasons that I can remeber which my cousins gave for not learning the language are:
one: People who wear cargos and talk in Sindhi are weird.( I was in full agreement with this at that point of time)
two: The language doesn't sound normal. (Normal is his favorite word he uses it for everything even for dal)

Sunday, February 27, 2011

Why does this happen time and again? I don't know what the reason is; I can't figure it out either!
The first time it happened I was shocked. I tried everything but it didn't work. Then I thought that it was perhaps meant to be this way. I consoled myself....I told myself that I can't let this put me down. Life goes on, it doesn't come to an end. So, I tried to forget and was successful in covering up all the not so good memories by creating new ones, good ones.
 But, all of it came back to me the second time it happened. I was prepared but I had never expected it would strike back. This time the wound was more painful, it was as if someone has punctured my heart and it was oozing out blood refusing to stop. It took time to for me to recover. I learned my lesson. I learned how to stay alone. I started seeing things which I had been overlooking so far.So, in a way it was good that it happened. I was happy.
Again, it happened, and this time it was as if someone has cut me into two pieces.Nevertheless, I didn't cry this time.....I am still fighting.......I will fight no matter how many times it strikes........no matter how deep the wound is......I will fight.......
Because my brother once said: "Fight o' warrior 'cuz winner are born of sheer valour. There's hole where the heart should have been; but now you'll see what you've never seen!"