My cousin, Shontu is a bit of a genius. Apart from being a rich and successful media professional, the otherwise shy Shontu is also a language expert. He is a proven pundit of not one, not two but four different languages.
Shontu can walk, talk and rock in English, Hindi, Bengali and Assamese with equal élan. Of course, he also claims to be an exponent of the Mishing, Hmar and Tangkhul languages, but I would rather like to believe in his mastery over the first four more recognisable ones, because geniuses often have the bad habit of exaggerating.
There is a very interesting anecdote about my French bearded brother’s meteoric rise as a language genius. The seeds of his talent were sown right in his childhood, but he was then blissfully oblivious of his enviable calibre.
As enamoured by the glory of English education as anyone else, Shontu’s parents also put him a convent school. The bespectacled genius of course didn’t take much time to adjust himself to the missionary surroundings. In only four years of English medium schooling, he mastered the Queen’s language and went head and shoulders above his peers.
He was now a perfect English kid, spitting English quotes and proverbs all the time, even when not needed. But one day, Shontu took his English expertise way too far. Back he came from his school and gleefully shouted, “Hey Mom , hey Dad, what’s up?”.
That was blasphemy in an educated Bengali middle class family, where English education was important, but values and maintenance of traditions were paramount. A kid who had been taught to address his parents as the good old “Maa and Baba” and touch their feet every morning, was now an expert of English slangs!
Shibu Kaku (as I called Shontu’s father), decided that was the end of my cousin’s English odyssey. He was admitted in a Bengali medium school the next very day. Poor Shontu was back to “Maa and Baba” in a bang. But that step did him wonders, he picked up his mother tongue like fish to water. The change made him more matured and made him aware about the importance of learning more languages. And, so, he keenly learnt Hindi, the national language and Assamese, the state’s language with great interest.
Even today, he shudders when I remind him of “Hey Mom, hey Dad.......” and swears that he would strictly make his kids stick to “Maa and Baba”.......come what may.
But wasn’t Shibu Kaku a bigger genius himself? Had he not taken that seemingly drastic step that day, Shontu would have remained a one language freak like me and many others of our generation. The story also has a message for all the English education aficionados that, there is an urgent need to rebuild our education system, otherwise many rich Indian languages might die untimely deaths.
Shontu can walk, talk and rock in English, Hindi, Bengali and Assamese with equal élan. Of course, he also claims to be an exponent of the Mishing, Hmar and Tangkhul languages, but I would rather like to believe in his mastery over the first four more recognisable ones, because geniuses often have the bad habit of exaggerating.
There is a very interesting anecdote about my French bearded brother’s meteoric rise as a language genius. The seeds of his talent were sown right in his childhood, but he was then blissfully oblivious of his enviable calibre.
As enamoured by the glory of English education as anyone else, Shontu’s parents also put him a convent school. The bespectacled genius of course didn’t take much time to adjust himself to the missionary surroundings. In only four years of English medium schooling, he mastered the Queen’s language and went head and shoulders above his peers.
He was now a perfect English kid, spitting English quotes and proverbs all the time, even when not needed. But one day, Shontu took his English expertise way too far. Back he came from his school and gleefully shouted, “Hey Mom , hey Dad, what’s up?”.
That was blasphemy in an educated Bengali middle class family, where English education was important, but values and maintenance of traditions were paramount. A kid who had been taught to address his parents as the good old “Maa and Baba” and touch their feet every morning, was now an expert of English slangs!
Shibu Kaku (as I called Shontu’s father), decided that was the end of my cousin’s English odyssey. He was admitted in a Bengali medium school the next very day. Poor Shontu was back to “Maa and Baba” in a bang. But that step did him wonders, he picked up his mother tongue like fish to water. The change made him more matured and made him aware about the importance of learning more languages. And, so, he keenly learnt Hindi, the national language and Assamese, the state’s language with great interest.
Even today, he shudders when I remind him of “Hey Mom, hey Dad.......” and swears that he would strictly make his kids stick to “Maa and Baba”.......come what may.
But wasn’t Shibu Kaku a bigger genius himself? Had he not taken that seemingly drastic step that day, Shontu would have remained a one language freak like me and many others of our generation. The story also has a message for all the English education aficionados that, there is an urgent need to rebuild our education system, otherwise many rich Indian languages might die untimely deaths.
