Episode 342 : Rootless

I have probably said this countless times before.

I was born in Madras, a city in a Tamil-speaking state. When I was just about a year old, the Hyde seniors moved to Calcutta, a city in a Bengali-speaking state. After spending 5 years there, in which I learnt that there is something called a language, I picked up bits and pieces of Malayalam, Bengali, English and perhaps the Hindi alphabet. Back then, Tamil sounded a lot like Malayalam, so it didn't make any difference to me that I was actually speaking in one language when I should have been speaking in another. Besides, I suppose a child talking in any language is a source of entertainment for adults.

We then moved to Hyderabad, a city in a Telugu-speaking state. By then, I had learnt to converse in English, Hindi, Malayalam but yet to understand the difference between Tamil and Malayalam. I had conveniently forgotten to remember Bengali and had trouble picking up Telugu.

Two short years later, we moved to Delhi. People mostly spoke Hindi in the capital of the country but in various dialects. I guess I picked up the Punjabi-influenced one. I had classmates who spoke Malayalam Tamil, but it did not make any difference to me- the languages were still the same.

Then came the move that taught me what Tamil really is. Sixteen years later, I found myself more fluent in Tamil than Malayalam. I forgot most of my Hindi. There was a brief period when I almost lost my fluency in English.

It never mattered to me that the language I spoke at home was very different from what my cousins spoke, who invariably found it amusing that I spoke a very different brand of the language. And I guess that is where I began to shield myself from it.

As I joined the workforce, I found myself interacting with native Malayalam speakers who would never identify my origins from my name. It would only come to light when I respond to them, or if they overheard me speak to someone else.

The question would invariably was ‘Why didn't you say so before?’. And my answer was either ‘Because I don’t speak your language’ or ‘I am from Madras’ instead of saying ‘I don’t like being clannish’.

But I never stopped myself when I had to speak in Tamil and slot myself into a ‘clan’. Later I began to call myself a ‘Madras Tamilian’ because in the end I could only identify myself with that city and the brand of Tamil it spoke.

Today, I live in a city where the official language is Kannada. A language that I understand vaguely and speak more vaguely. I find that I am more fluent in French than Kannada! I interact with native speakers of Hindi, Tamil and Malayalam and have no qualms in speaking either language.

If someone were to ask me directly if I am from Kerala, I will hesitate before replying. The reply would depend on whether I want to tell the actual truth or what I think the truth is!

I suppose at some time, a person like me has to accept the reality that I have become rootless. And I may never be able to say honestly where I really come from. Till then, I will have to call myself a Malayalam-speaking Tamilian living in Bangalore.