My grandparents migrated from India to Pakistan in 1947. My maternal ones were Urdu speaking Muhajirs from Uttar Pradesh and my paternal ones were Punjabis from Amritsar. So I would say I'm of mixed origin.
The majority of my friends hail from a khalis (pure) Punjabi ethno-lingual background. I’m the only one who is a mix of both Punjabi and non-Punjabi backgrounds (as if I had a choice).
My parents have always used an amalgam of Urdu and English at home. English is a must and Urdu has always been relegated to a secondary status from schools to college. And let’s not even talk about Punjabi.
Punjabi is like a far off distant relative who you know exists but avoid meeting.
But there is only one person in my house who loves to yap in Punjabi, and that’s my father.
In my family, you can say Urdu is the head of the family, English is the lady of the house and Punjabi is poor me.
Obviously, I am not extremely proficient in Punjabi but still, whatever understanding of Punjabi I have acquired over the years, it is through my interaction with people like street vendors and rickshaw walas. Or I try to grasp a word or two from my father.
Here is a bitter truth about the Punjabi language. I grew up in an environment where speaking Punjabi was not appreciated. Sadly, this derogatory treatment of Punjabi is common to almost all middle and upper-class households in Pakistan’s Urban Punjab.
To understand the decline of Punjabi in Pakistan’s Urban Punjab, I even did a research paper recently titled “Decline of Punjabi in Pakistan’s urban Punjab” for one of my English research paper courses at college. The choice of my research raised many eyebrows from my classmates. A friend of mine blatantly told me, ‘Why did I choose Punjabi as my subject? No one really gives a damn about what goes on with Punjabi language”.
May be no one cares about the language, but I do. Punjabi is a part of my father’s life and that’s enough reason for me to give a damn.
Urdu, just like Hindi, has different lehja (accents) in different regions of Pakistan. How Hindi is spoken differently in Bihar, Delhi and Uttar Pradesh, such is the case with Urdu also.
The way Khalis Punjabis living in Lahore speak Urdu is quite different from Karachiites. For example, Khalis Punjabis would say mulaak, goshaat and miraach which is pronounced differently by Karachiwalas as mulk, ghosht or mirch.
In Pakistan, Karachi versus Lahore is what Mumbai vs Delhi is to India. It’s no surprise that my mother thinks “our” (Muhajirs living in Lahore) Urdu “is far better than Karachiites’”. According to her, Karachiites “speak too fast and we speak in a discernible manner”. It’s amazing how zameen pe kheenchi hui lakeer (be it state or country) changes our nazarya (perspective).
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