Hindi Head Out

Do you feel? Is ignoring by Indian while country’s language is the root of the nation helping to represent their culture and tradition—blogger Dhruv Singh who blogs at https://kalprerana.blogspot.in/

Excuse me… who the F***k says that hindi represents India? It does not.

How does Hindi represent the Tulu culture can you tell me.. please? Why am I being forced to learn the language?

I go to the Canara Bank at Santa Cruz Goa… which is a small village, the village consists of Konkani, Portuguese and Kannada population. The bank staff have replaced and majority of the staff are from the Hindi-belt there are two staff members who have been here for at least two years, they have got the rest of the staff to speak hindi… the customers struggle and communicate in hindi, this person sprawls on his chair and is conversing to the Canara bank person in Mathura — to the day they do not speak a word of Konkani — would the when people cross the vindhyas not only are they asked to speak hindi but to speak whatever the dialect.

I walk into corporation bank at Manipal again it is a Konkani, Tulu and Kannada terrain, the manager Mr.Patni has been there for two years, there are only two out of the dozen staff who are cowbelters yet the entire bank speaks broken Hindi to accommodate them, while these uncouth slobs cannot learn a word of Kannada, Tulu or Konkani. This to me is arrogance. I now understand why people want to shift to post office account or a bank like HDFC where at least English is spoken, so we do not have to put up with rude Hindi person.

Would the canara or corporation bank dare put an employee who cannot speak Hindi to the Hindi belt?

Telecallers, not only call you at odd hours, but they rattle of in Hindi without having the damn courtesy of finding out if we know the language. When you ask them to slow down or repeat, or ask them to speak a language you can understand they use obscenity, this is the great Hindi culture that you are talking about. The call centre person at for Ola Cabs in Bangalore, which by the way is the capital of the Kannada country, says she cannot understand Kannada, so this caller who wanted an car should speak to her in Hindi because this great woman has come from the north. Oh! Yes, the call centre connect to the ambulance had the same problem.

I remember the early congress slogans would be in Tulu, today everything is in Hindi, when Hindi enters the arena it is like a weed liking the local language, with the local language dies the history and the ethnic identity, instead of celebrating Onam, we are wished happy vamana jayanthi, instead of woman letting their hair loose with jasmine strings, we have women covering their head. Over than a hue and cry is made of Hijaab.

Look at any Hindi movie the south Indian woman is shown as loud, crass the worst one is the one by Rohit Shetty not only does he portray the south as uncouth, with ugly men and loud garish women is absolutely maddening.

Talk to taxi drivers of Goa, they do not want a customer from UP-Delhi because they never pay the fare they always underpay.

With the advent of Konkani Railway the Wednesday train that arrives from Bihar-UP brings in the migrant male worker who is so steeped in his Hindi culture, they have infiltrated into every class 4 employment, they join in on temporary basis, again their inability to speak anything else has holds the coastal community to ransom we are forced to learn Hindi, with the Hindi-man comes his mentality independent woman to him is someone, who he can make lewd comments on, he thinks they are prowling for attention from men, it is sickening.

With star and zee networks entering regional channels, we are forced to watch the vernacular translations of Hindi serials, these translations are bad, the values and ethos do not belong to the vernacular culture, and issues are not relevant. Which is why many of us subscribe to online channels on YouTube, whenever I give a public talk on media awareness, I bring it to people’s notice and tell them where the alternates are available.

At the end of the day Mr. Singh Hindi is as alien to me as English, I choose English over Hindi as it is a language that my grandparents taught me, they did not teach me Hindi, I learnt Tulu, Konkani, Tamil Kannada and English by the way I do speak Hindi, I have read enough of Hindi authors right from Tulsidas to Bacchan, Nirala, and MaithaliSharan Gupta, but if you demand I speak Hindi I do not. And once again HINDI IS NOT THE CULTURE OF THE COUNTRY, IT IS NOT THE LANGUAGE OF THE COUNTRY, it is Language spoken by a minority population of Majority non Hindi speaking population, Hindi can go Up…the…okay I shall curb the spontaneous word comes and up the pole.

 

I am angry so I refuse to apologize for either my thoughts or my language,

Parijata

Adansona digitata is the botanical name of this flower. Parijata is what my grandmother called it. Prajukta, shefali, shagufta call it any name.
Beautiful white with a coral orange stalk. I am seeing this after nearly twenty two years. When I set my eyes on this I am back to my child hood. Though then the tree did not seem as fascinating as I could not climb it like I could climb the sampige tree next to it.
My grandmother Singari used to tell me that it bloomed after Ganga Dussehra and that it was brought down to earth by Arjuna for his mother Kunti. Since I did not know Ganga Dussehra then it did not matter.
My maternal great aunt Kitta-doddamma my teacher of tulu folklore told me this was a tree that emerged during the samudra manthan or churning of the great ocean.
Then there was this famous movie Sri Krishna Parijata, made from a Yakshagana prasanaga Parijatha Parinaya. Where Krishna helps Indra win a war and when Indra asks him what I can give you in return Sathyabhama Krishna’s wife asks for the Parijata tree in Queen Sachi’s garden. Indra refuses, leading to a battle between Krishna and Indra and eventually Krishna bringing it for his wife.
I remember my older cousin Ahalya patiently collecting the flowers stringing them with either thread or stringing them through a broomstick, as the flower had a visible hollow. My pleasure was in breaking the string. She would not be perturbed and my mission would be foiled.
During my teenage years for awhile stringing the parijatha into my earrings or wearing them round my neck was interesting. Unfortunately they would wither in an hour.
Today when I looked at the Parijata, the childish sibling rivalry gone, it brings a smile, reminds me of the calm presence in my life my lovely sister Ahalya.

Adansona digitata is the botanical name of this flower. Parijata is what my grandmother called it. Prajukta, shefali, shagufta call it any name.
Beautiful white with a coral orange stalk. I am seeing this after nearly twenty two years. When I set my eyes on this I am back to my child hood. Though then the tree did not seem as fascinating as I could not climb it like I could climb the sampige tree next to it.
My grandmother Singari used to tell me that it bloomed after Ganga Dussehra and that it was brought down to earth by Arjuna for his mother Kunti. Since I did not know Ganga Dussehra then it did not matter.
My maternal great aunt Kitta-doddamma my teacher of tulu folklore told me this was a tree that emerged during the samudra manthan or churning of the great ocean.
Then there was this famous movie Sri Krishna Parijata, made from a Yakshagana prasanaga Parijatha Parinaya. Where Krishna helps Indra win a war and when Indra asks him what I can give you in return Sathyabhama Krishna’s wife asks for the Parijata tree in Queen Sachi’s garden. Indra refuses, leading to a battle between Krishna and Indra and eventually Krishna bringing it for his wife.
I remember my older cousin Ahalya patiently collecting the flowers stringing them with either thread or stringing them through a broomstick, as the flower had a visible hollow. My pleasure was in breaking the string. She would not be perturbed and my mission would be foiled.
During my teenage years for awhile stringing the parijatha into my earrings or wearing them round my neck was interesting. Unfortunately they would wither in an hour.
Today when I looked at the Parijata, the childish sibling rivalry gone, it brings a smile, reminds me of the calm presence in my life my lovely sister Ahalya.