Lazy Hindi

I speak a LOT of Hindi these days. (Waiting for the giggling and guffawing to stop.) I do. I walk into a store and I don't even try to speak English, even into relatively big stores. The only time I remember speaking in English was in a Raymonds store and that too because the store keeper initiated the conversation in English.

The transformation into a Hindi speaker has taken even me by surprise. I lived in Hyderabad for a significant part of my life, so speaking Hindi itself is not new to me. What is surprising is the fluency that has returned. I am using idioms, slang and bargaining effortlessly. Of course, I don't think I am fooling a lot of people, but instead of thinking, "Wow, an NRI sucka!" they are atleast thinking "Wow, a non-Pune sucka!" which is good enough.

What isn't good enough is the Hindi that I speak. It's good enough to communicate but it's such a bastardized version that I cringe when I hear myself speak. Hindi is not native to Maharashtra. So, much like Hyderabad, they speak a functional version of it, instead of a pure version. (Sort of like High School Americans speaking English - technically it's English, but the Queen would faint upon hearing it.) It's a lazy version of the language with insufficient matching of subject and verb. Sometimes even the names are pronounced improperly, with the softer versions of the consonants replacing the real versions. Oh and the almost universal infiltration of English. I once heard two students speak absolutely beautifully pure Hindi on a bus in Austin once (they weren't trying hard, it was clearly how they normally spoke). So beautiful that I wanted to just get off the bus and follow them and keep listening to them. I hope to hear Hindi like that spoken again one day.

Mind you, it's not like the Telugu spoken in Hyderabad is any better. For that matter you hardly hear any Telugu spoken in the city in business transactions. A person I know in fact tried to speak exclusively in Telugu with the auto drivers to make a point. And that's sad. I only hope that there are still some people who still cringe when improper Hindi/Telugu is spoken, much like I cringe when improper English is spoken.

One nation, divided

Nandamuri Taraka Rama Rao once famously said that "Centre is a conceptual myth". The man of course was Andhra Pradesh's most beloved Chief Minister and one of the first leader to instill Telugu Pride in Telugus. I've always felt that this sort of a pride was important for everyone - to recognize that while we all belong to India, we are not necessarily defined by Hindi and/or North Indian culture but by our respective regional heritage (unless of course your regional history corresponds with the North Indian culture, for eg. Uttar Pradesh).

I do wonder though if that sort of a pride has run amok. As I spend time in India, and in particular in a place outside Andhra Pradesh, I realize that regional pride is very much alive, except it's some sort of a grotesque monster now.

A political party in Karnataka wants 30% reservation for Kannadigas in the private sector. A while ago, there was a call for non-Kannada movies to be released in the state after a delay so that they wouldn't compete with the Kannada movies in the state. The Maharashtra Navnirman Sena is, if you can believe, a party that's on the Right of the Shiv Sena!!! That's like someone being a better QB than Peyton Manning - it's unimaginable! The MNS apparently had their panties all up in a bunch because North Indians are immigrating into the state, and into Mumbai in particular. Not to mention the controversy about Jaya Bachchan not speaking in Marathi at a public function in Maharashtra and Amitabh Bachchan opening a school in UP instead of Maharashtra. And in addition, a lot of regional and caste based parties are popping up. Basically I think economic reforms have created a nice tasty dish to be consumed and everyone wants a piece of that pie for themselves and theirs.

Of course, personally I was pissed off at lunch today when I had to eat alone. Apparently all the cliques are set up, and they're all regional. (Except of course the Whites, who eat together!) Before you ask, the reason I wasn't eating with the Telugu clique is because I wasn't properly introduced yet, which I plan to rectify as soon as possible. But while I will admit that I love the company of Telugus and being a Telugu, even I'll admit that it'll be a sorry day when I'm deprived of hanging out with some Tamilians (I love Tamil slang) and some Kannadigas (who are the nicest group of people in the world - I'm yet to meet a single Kannadiga that rubbed me the wrong way) and some Malayalis (with their awesome accent) and heck, even the N. Indians. For that matter my boss is apparently a big NFL fan and atleast to get in on some of that NFL talk and would love to sit at the White table!

A delicate jump

(A couple of big posts are coming up. I'll put up a few snapshots here.)

The apartment hunt is going to take up most of my time this week (in theory). I've been asked to spend all available time on that, including take time off from work.

As I was hunting apartments online, a colleague walked up and introduced himself, "Hi, I'm another Kalyan." He's Telugu, and based on our short conversation I'm about 70% sure he's related to me through no more than two steps. As I talked to him about accommodation, he quickly called up an agent and hooked me up. Sounds like a good deal in the sense that it's close by and cheap. I'm waiting for the fine print.

Turns out his agent is Telugu too. Which caused me to immediately fire up my Telugu Landing System (TLS). By TLS I'm of course referring to the delicate dance that I (I assume other Telugus do this too) perform while meeting a new Telugu person. In particular it comes to one very important question - at what point do you drop the first Telugu sentence? (Sometimes the other person will make the crucial step and you won't need to worry. At other times you'll have to take the onus.) Too early and you'll sound needy or "uncool". Too late and you'll be snobbish city boy (or NRI) who can't be bothered to speak in his own mothertongue. The whole procedure is not unlike landing an aircraft on a carrier. I broke out a "ఆఫీసులో ఇంకా తెలుగు వాళ్లు ఉన్నారా?" (Are there other Telugus in the office) as soon as he finished talking to the agent and I think the ice is broken. As it turned out, he was very cool and even offered to introduce me to his mother so she could figure out how I'm related to him :)

There is a good chance he'll end up being my neighbour.

Eat at the Hotel

(A quick update)
I'm at work in Pune, arrived 15 mins ago and waiting in a meeting room to be assigned a seat and meet the others. The guesthouse I've been put up at is very sweet and the area is very quiet. I met cousin who lives here and he's been a great help.

Right now the biggest thing on my agenda (other than work) is getting an apartment. As soon as that's done, I'll be comfortably set up.

I've been asked to give a "treat" for my birthday at a nice "Hotel". I've been told by a friend who was born in Pune that the locals can "smell my NRI a** from a mile away". So I need to adapt my vocabulary, clothing and general mannerisms if I'm to fit it. One such adaptation is realizing that the word "Hotel" in India is used interchangeably for "restaurant". Oh, and the place I work is right next to the "Le Meridian" Hotel. It's pronounced "Lee Meridian".

Language and the bargaining experience

Yesterday, after the world stopped spinning, I took the world out for a spin.

I took mom to see an physical therapist because her legs hurt. The
therapist was a N. Indian, Hindi-speaking person. The conversation
that followed is one reason I think India is just so cool.

Mom: నా కాలు నొప్పి పెడుతోంది.
Dr.: कहाँ पे?
Mom: My knee.
Dr.: మీరు ఇక్కడ ముందు వోచ్చారా?
Mom: No.
Dr. Aunty, आपको treatment compulsory అవసరం.

And so on ...

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Later in the day we went shopping for fruits and I was made to realize
once again how utterly inadequate I am at bargaining. This is a skill
I need to develop if I am to survive India.