I am often reminded of a chapter in Pawan Varma?s The Great Indian Middle Class on how the choice of language one chooses to speak in has become more of a status symbol than a medium of communication here in India (and more so among university students, if you ask me). A general preference for alien-English (by alien here I simply mean ?not ours??American English is an example) even in the most basic forms of communication has seen fatal consequences, the most important of which, according to me, is of loosing touch with ourselves. We keep in mind the French origin of the word ?rendezvous? every time we pronounce it, and yet, when the film Avatar was out, we pronounced it the alien way, despite our knowledge of its Indian origin.

Granted, a large part of this can be explained by our colonial origins (Brazilians, for example, speak in Portuguese) and that English is the generally accepted medium of communication across the world. For instance, if you were to initiate a conversation with a Chinese, you would choose to speak in English, even if you know Chinese (it?s the safest bet). Further, the generally held perception is that English signals some degree of sophistication over the other languages. This last point, however, can be refuted easily by citing examples of people like Javed Akhtar and Ashutosh Rana ? you will hardly find them speak a word of English, although the sophistication they display in their general deportment is unparalleled. Those who can?t relate with these examples can watch episodes of Kaun Banega Crorepati, and listen to Amitabh Bachchan speaking in elegant Hindi.

The argument of colonial origin no longer has any depth at least in today?s India. The polish in the deportment of Indians of the seventies (basically a few generations before ours) still remains unmatched by that of ours. Today, if we wish to place an order at, say, a fast food joint, we will invariably be received on the phone by someone who talks in an annoyingly fake accent. The time that it would otherwise take to finish a conversation in Hindi (to place an order), will be doubled, simply because half the time is lost trying to understand what the person on the other side is saying (or more aptly, trying hard to convey). Others may face such problems with customer care executives of their banking, internet or telecom service providers; one can?t help it, it is an important element in the hiring criteria. They are apparently trained to talk in fake accents; part of this, of course, stems from catering to alien needs. What is more annoying is when some say they don?t know Hindi (or any other domestic language, for that matter) well enough ? and say so with a visible sense of pride. The obvious inferences from the listeners? perspective are ?I?ve mostly stayed abroad so far (where the need to learn the domestic language didn?t arise) and haven?t really adequately explored this language well enough? ? or ?I have not stayed abroad, but haven?t quite bothered to communicate in our domestic language ever.? It is interesting that, regardless of whether or not such a speaker has genuine reasons, he or she would want you to infer the former; after all, in India, you are looked at differently if you have lived abroad.

Fortunately enough, this gives us a chance to put them through the test. First, we should ask them if they?ve stayed abroad, and if so, for how long. If the ?long? is long enough, we give them the benefit of doubt. Else, we ask ?how have you survived here in India so far?? The genuineness (or its absence) will be revealed. It is all about giving signals. Here I must add that the extremely irritating lot is the set of people who do not know English well enough, and hence choose to distort the accent of the domestic language they speak in. They probably tell themselves something like ?I don?t know English (in any accent) well enough ? but I could definitely make my Hindi sound like how an American would.? I choose to remain silent on this lot?a strategy I often use to maintain decency and political correctness in my writings.

In the previous paragraph, I have largely covered three variants of behaviour that can potentially turn you off. While the youth is supposed to carry forward our true identity, it is really sad that elegant languages like Urdu are dying out. The ones that are gaining prominence are those of the people who perhaps value highly the parts that their own mothers and sisters have played in their lives ? and hence feel obligated to bring in each others? mothers? and sisters? ?parts? in the middle of every conversation (if not explicitly mention). After all, such a style of deportment is a legacy that has been inherited through generations and makes it fundamental to their cultural upbringing?they?re simply incomplete without it. Ironically, we are becoming less civil as we develop. Owing to the sheer desperation of people to find their space and gain recognition in our country, the frustration out of not being heard translates to such forms of conduct. Being well-off is defined materially and doesn?t account for one?s creative pursuits. This, in my belief, is pretty American. The consumerist idea of well-being (the more you consume, the better off you are) has blinded the country to the extent that national consumption exceeds national income … they?ve consumed more than they could afford (lived on credit, to put it politely). Credit cards have become status symbols. People have already lost themselves and their creative pursuits in the race for wealth or surplus accumulation (as economists would like to put it). We do not have the time to understand and appreciate classical music simply because understanding takes time. Noise, on the other hand, often dubbed as hard metal, is appreciated.

To conclude, let me share a recent experience. I attended Ghulam Mustafa Khan?s and Ghulam Ali?s performances in Delhi. Just before the latter performed, I heard one of the three young women, who were seated right behind me and my friends, say ?I hope Ghulam Ali is a well known ghazal singer and that he sings Hothon se chhu lo tum, my favourite ghazal.? We do not know much about people like Ghulam Ali and have practically forgotten those like Premchand! We no longer have the time to understand things. A few, already caught in the trap of pseudo-Americanism, may have realised that displaying ignorance for classical music may not send the right signals. They probably think that one sounds classy if one claims a certain taste for western classical, and are sure to bring up Beethoven and Mozzart in the relevant discussions. You just need to ask them if they have heard Bach?s compositions. I believe that any true western classical enthusiast will not only know but also have a natural ear for Bach?s music. Just tell them that many are aware of Mozzart and Beethoven, but only a few have heard Bach ? and in the other gatherings that immediately follow ? you?ll hear them explicitly mention that they have a special liking for Bach. I?ll repeat?it is all about sending signals. While the pursuits of material development and global recognition are otherwise acceptable, it isn?t necessary for the youth to make Americans out of themselves. After all, in the light of current events, the last thing we want is another America.

The author is a research scholar at the Indian Statistical Institute. These are his personal views