Polyglot, what!

India is one of the most multilingual countries in the world.  The Indian Constitution lists 22 official languages, but the number of spoken languages and dialects is a staggering one.  Back in 1956, the Indian Parliament enacted the States Reorganization Act, which resulted in Indian state lines being drawn in a way that people with different mother tongues had to holler over state borders to communicate with each other.  And while there continue to be disputes because some people keep wanting to redraw these lines so they can holler louder across them for some inexplicable reason, most Indians and persons of Indian origin around the world have managed to stand largely united amid linguistic disparities.

 

It is no marvel that the average Indian is multilingual.  Having grown up and lived in pleasantly cacophonic soundscapes where my left and right ears were subjected to different languages and dialects simultaneously, I automatically acquired the ability to converse meaningfully in five languages and fake meaningful conversations in least four more using basic phrases.  And this by no means is an extraordinary accomplishment.  Ask any person of Indian origin and they will profess to skills similar or, in many cases, superlative to mine.  In fact, we are multilingual to the point that we can train our kids to be multilingual as well and still keep one language a secret from them so that we can use it for undercover parental communications!  Ergo, any arguments regarding the pros and cons of being multilingual sound trifling to the average Indian.  Delayed language fluency in multilingual kids, it seems -- pfft!

A book purchased on Amazon with the intent of converting my fake Kannada into the real deal 

(partially successful project, this)

An inevitable outcome of this multilingual culture is the intermixing of languages.  This has resulted in the birth and evolution of hybrid languages like Tanglish, Hinglish, Kanglish, Tenglish etc., which serve well for creating comedic effect in conversations, for example -  

 

Why this kolaveri di?

Straight-a po!

Come here na?

Ay don't sing like this type of filmi songs no!

What and all he is doing, chchaa!

Lite teesko

OK boss, do one thing

Chill madi

etc.  

One hybrid that I grew up listening to a lot was the typically Puneri hybrid that organically manifests when a native Marathi speaker attempts to speak Hindi, for example, 'Mereko pohane ko nahi aata, tereko thaaook hai na?  Mug tu majhya samor swimming pool mein udi marke kaiko mereko ola kar raha hai? Poosne ko towel bhi nahi hai, ab anga waalega kaise?' or as P.L. Deshpande succinctly called it 'Hindi chi chindi karane' in his book Batatyachi Chal through lines like 'Hum Trilokekar, aur hum Gupte, aani Baba Barve acharya hoenga maloom hai acharya hoenga!'  

This macaronic propensity among Indians is not a new phenomenon.  It has been a part of Indian culture for many years, evidenced by old languages like Manipravalam (an eclectic blend of Tamil, Malayalam, and Sanskrit).  The well known composer king Maharaja Swati Tirunal is said to have been fluent in over 13 languages and has composed Carnatic compositions in all of them, including Manipravalam.

Another curious outcome of this multilingual culture is the knack of switching accents many Indians possess.  I addressed accents in a previous post but didn't specifically address accent switching.  And no, I am not talking about the oft heard wannabe Ame'zhi'can or Bri'ish accents bordering on cultural appropriation, like this conversation from my engineering college farewell party I remember too vividly for some reason - 

Boy 1: (in fake accent) Ay yo, I ain't drinkin' man!

Boy 2: Abbe paagal hai kya, 'ain't' sab kaun bolta hai!

Boy 1: (in regular accent) Ay gappa bas, America mein sab aishi hi English vaaparate hain...

Followed by intense teasing because Boy 1 had just received an admit from some U.S. university.  

No, I am not referring to people like Boy 1.  I am referring to Indians who seem to be able to effortlessly jump state or country lines by switching articulation and intonation styles accurately and genuinely.  Case in point, my older daughter, who can not only flawlessly switch between Tamil and Havyaka languages, but also shift seamlessly from a standard American (or Ohio) accent to a mixed Tamil/Kannada accent while speaking English.  Now, whether our local school system thinks this is a good thing or not is a different matter altogether...