Language is neither the mere titillation of the tongue, nor the clamouring cacophony desperate to find unsuspecting ears to assault. It is a request that opens doors to vent out and articulate emotions – of sheer ecstasy, irrepressible ire, belly shaking humour, heart-wrenching grief or just rendering a statement of fact.
The boneless tongue might seem to be an ignoble mass of flesh that often lands you in the soup, or invites sanctions with the slip between the tongue and the lip, or shames you when you put your foot in your mouth.
Yet but ‘bol nahi to hamaara koi mol nahi….yes but ensure bol tol ke!
All forms of imperialism, autocracy, and hegemony, have fallen to their ignonimity, slayed by the power of ‘bol’. Bolna or speaking is as much a visual art as art and architecture, dance and music, prose and poetry.
The language of soul is what matters, not its national roots. Yet, if speech is used to excite jingoism or xenophobia or racial hatred, then its best left unsaid.
Martin Luther’s “I Had a Dream” or Malala’s on “One Child One Teacher One Book” or Severn Suzuki’s “I am Just a Child” or even Jawaharlal Nehru’s “Tryst with Destiny” is a strong reminder of the power of the ‘bol’ rhetoric. Whether it is sloganeering or Amitabh Bacchan’s national anthem in sign language, or prisoners developing a dialect as an everyday means of expression by clanking on their prisonware. All seek to convey, convince, contradict, converge ideas, the power to speak is as precious as its pauses.
Be it Haryanvi or Hebrew, language is a promise of liberation for the free spirited creatures of the earth, growing out of a rare cultural consciousness, and allowing an osmosis of other benign and brave thoughts.
It breaks the manacles of slavery – physical or emotional. When we manifest the oral word, it is not about an intelligence quotient but an emotional one. ‘Bolbridges’ are grammarless stepladders in a world afflicted with wars, with gas and fire enveloping us in a promising embrace of everlasting warmth and togetherness.
A volley of words are more like an arsenal – hurtful, derogatory and condescending, whereas they can be reconstructive, placating, inspiring and healing. Words cross pollinate with anarchy and babel and conceive hatred, so the best way to erase those vindictive moments is to speak freely, speak sincerely and speak honestly, speak lovingly, but most importantly speak! And not to forget speak in any language. Foreign words become as much at home when used in the same breath.
Your bol becomes more indelible than the streams of statistical data that gets frozen on computers. It is fearless in its colour and untouched by any prejudice. Speaking up against apartheid, or dalits, child labour, human trafficking, and for women’s emancipation, for the LGBT community, for national fervor – solo or as an organised group, will eradicate the noise of the battlefield and give us a sense of purpose after 70 years of Independence.
It is time to verbalise for a purpose that matters, time to shout from rooftops for something we strongly believe in, or as arm chair critics we shall remain anchored to rigid oddities that are confining, conventional and constricting.
I shall no longer suffer from waldeinsamkeit (a feeling for being alone in the woods) for there are many voices joining mine. This Independence Day, let us pledge to honour and respect everyone in our speech. Let the spoken word be spoken not just from the head. It’s time to aim for the heart!
(This article was sent to The Quint by Ritu Pankaj for our Independence Day campaign, BOL – Love your Bhasha. Ritu prides herself in being a proverbial rolling stone that has fortunately gathered a lot of moss. The Delhi university graduate in English and Education is married to an Army Officer. Promised the permanency of a gypsy life she has enjoyed the luxury of a rich and complex combination of working relations pan India as an English pedagogue and is earnestly involved in writing for prestigious publication houses like Macmillan, Pearson and Harper Collins.
(Love your mother tongue? This Independence Day, tell The Quint why and how you love your bhasha. You may even win a BOL t-shirt! Sing, write, perform, spew poetry – whatever you like – in your mother tongue. Send us your BOL at bol@thequint.com or WhatsApp it to 9910181818.)
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