Published on 12:00 AM, February 25, 2013

Reflections

Bangla: The French of the East


Photo Courtesy: Md. Farhad Rahman/flickr

The noted linguistic, Professor Abdul Hye, once famously remarked that Bengali was the "French language of the East". He was referring to not only the sweetness of the language, but also the profound use of connotation, pronunciation and the subtlety of our mother tongue. An Indo-Aryan language spoken by roughly 230 million people and ranking amongst the top spoken languages in the world on the scale of four to six, Bengali has a long tradition of absorbing the best of the "foreign" influences over the centuries and inter-mingling them with the local dialects.
Our culture being a melting pot and a conglomeration of Portuguese, English, French, Turkish and Iranian culture, there are 31 dialects in Bangladesh. In fact (according to Wikipedia) the first written Bengali dictionary/grammar, Vocabolario em idioma Bengalla, e Portuguez dividido em duas partes, was written by the Portuguese missionary Manoel da Assumpcam between 1734 and 1742 while he was serving in Bhawal.
The local dialects certainly add colour and vibrancy to the language. In a land stretching from Rangpur in the north and Chittagong to the south, the 31 dialects give a tangible identity to the local heritage although (often) they also form the source of much confusion! For instance in Rajshahi, "s" in pronounced "sh" so that "sir" is pronounced "sher" (tiger) and vice versa!
A common dialect in the northern belt of Rajshahi-Chapainawabganj may lead one to come up against the dialogue "builley porey builbe honi je builey dio". Likewise, in Khulna, we are more used to listening to the song "nati khati bela gelo shutii parlaam na". In Barisal, the expression "ek ser taak" refers to cheat and not baldness. Many a person, outside Chittagong, finds it near impossible to follow the local dialect. Such can, of course, be said about the Sylhet accent also. Was it that long ago that an international airways had to open a separate "Sylhet" booth to cater to the proud locals who spoke in no other dialects?
In old Dhaka the blend of Urdu and Bangla during the Nawabi era has created a niche by itself.
Bangla in its purest form was known as the French of the East, the language of the intelligentsia. The number of unique words to reflect human emotion, its subtle use to reflect personal relationships ("apni, tumi, tui") marks it as a true language of the people, a language that unlike any other language in world history has imbued so much pride that men and women have happily walked into a hail of bullets to preserve its identity. A language where a simple "tumi" can denote so much emotion, that poems are incomplete without it. No wonder it's often said that poets are the unwritten guardians of a country's language.
Ironically, the divine songs of Tagore were initially not given due respect in our society, as he had 'introduced' new words to our vocabulary. His songs were not regarded as classics or refined by the connoisseurs of music who were mostly fond of Indian classical music. At the musical conferences of the elites only Nidhubabu's tappa songs were rendered. Occasionally songs of Rajnikanta or Dwijendralal Roy could be heard but Tagore songs were not considered conventional or appropriate.
Unlike Rabindranath, our national poet Nazrul, being fiercely rebellious and anti-British, stood out amongst many of his peers who were not as confrontational as him. Naturally many of his songs reflected his brand of fiery emotion and patriotism, a far cry from the standard-formulaic commercially successful songs. In fact, even his romantic songs, his ghazals, bore his signature touches, the artful play of words and tone that set it apart from the rest.
Distressingly, nowadays Bengali sometimes seems to have taken yet another turn. Young people tend to mix the pure form and have started a new trend that they pick up from just about anywhere. Noted personalities have remarked that previously there was a trend to follow the electronic media to pick up the proper pronunciation and now people don't know what to follow.
If poets are the guardians, the media have to be the enforcer of the language. With their widespread reach, their massive popularity, it is essential that each of the media houses in print or electronic form take up the challenge of guiding the millions of Bengali speakers so that its true and beautiful nature is preserved and nurtured. How else would the wonderful dialects be the flag bearers of the proud local heritage? How else would we give birth to another Tagore and Nazrul? How else would we honour the martyrs whose life we have traded for our right to speak in our beloved tongue?