'They’re suggesting that the whole of India converses in one dialect—Hindi'
Illustration/Uday Mohite
Lobo Lobo was on the cusp of perturbed and pissed off.
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“Hello Lobo Lobo,” I said to my cable TV technician cum ex-captain of the 1980 victorious Glaxo football team.
“Dikuna men… kaisa hai tum, man. Hum extremely gussa lagtha hai!”
“Uhm Lobo Lobo, why you talking like Keshto Mukerjee in a 1970s Hindi movie?”
“Toom kya bolne ko mangtha hai, man?”
“I’m trying to understand the words flowing from your mouth,”
“Yeh iss sirf nation ka bhasha hai…”
“Okay, Lobo Lobo, here’s the deal, can we now converse in the language I’m speaking in, because I am unable to follow your gibberish!”
“Phew okay men Dikuna, tanks… so can you esplain to me what dis, ‘one nation one language’ ting is?”
“They’re suggesting that the whole of India converses in one dialect—Hindi.”
“But why dere trying to unite us wid ‘indi, when speshully ‘ere in Mumbai, dere are ‘undreds of different languages, and bhashas and sub-bhashas, like Bambaiya Hindi and Hinglish. Arrey tell to me… who here in Mumbai speeks in correct ‘indi… de average Delhi fallow will have ‘eart failure when he ‘ears words like ‘mereko’ and ‘kai ko’ and ‘kit-pit’ and ‘tension mat lo’!”
“No doubt, Lobo Lobo.”
“Dikuna men, our 1980s Glaxos football team, every week, we meet and take one two pegs! If you hear us speek, you won’t follow oni... everyone toking toking in dere own language— Taqdeer Aslam, our goalkeeper, as tall as Qutb Minar. He’s now a biryani caterer in Bhendi Bazaar, he speaks in solid hi-fi Urdu…every sentence sounds like one ‘shayari’ written by dat Rakhee’s husband… wassisname?”
“Gulzaarsaab.”
“For every sentence he utters, you have to reach for de Urdu- to English dikshunary. Den dere our two Souties…”
“Lobo Lobo it’s not politically correct to say, Southies!”
“Arrey Dikuna, Thampi and Bala, we call dem ‘our two ‘andu-gundus’… dey don’t take it personally so your fader what goes? Thampi… we called him ‘Pele from Periyar’, when he speaks English it sounds like Malayalam and his Hindi sounds like something African! And den our udder Soutie brudder, Balasubraniam, Bala for short…
‘e says, “in our Chennai we speak, one language wonly, it is Tamil, simbly.”
Lobo Lobo paused for breath.
“Den dere’s Banerjee, ‘ow he would dribble dat football, aahhh class… bossie, he speaks Bangali… only Bangla… wot I am meaning to say, his English, his ‘indi, his Marathi, all sound like Bengali.”
“I think you may be getting a trifle perturbed about this language issue… it’s all about votes.”
Lobo Lobo wasn’t listening.
“Arrey our midfielder, Harideb Gogoi, is worried dat dey are making Assamese cumpulserry till Standard X, all dese years in Assam, ‘indi has been optional.”
“Yeah they want to discontinue English as the link language.”
“Arre Dikuna men wot if dey make our link language ‘indi…’ ow I’ll spik to my teammates—wot I’ll say to Taqdeer, wot he’ll say to Banerjee… ow our Bong will speak to dat mad Parsi, Jeejeeboy... as it is all dey used say to each udder is, ‘hey you bloody rascal, pass the ruddy ball!’ and Bong would reply, ‘Vloody phool Bawa, eet eees raight in frent of eu, cannot see or bhot?’”
Lobo Lobo paused as he smiled at the memory of his closest friends. Suddenly, he had a Eureka moment.
“I have an idea, Dikuna men, de oni way we can now communicate, is ‘ow we would on de footer field, 40 years ago.”
“And how is that, my friend?”
‘”It is also de way I will aks my Myrtle to communicate wid me, so I don’t ‘ave to hear her full day ‘kitpit’!”
“And what is that means of communication, Lobo Lobo?”
“Sign language, Dikuna men, sign language, I will tell her, no words, Myrtle, just use your hands and fingers,” he concluded, a smirk crossing his face.
Rahul daCunha is an adman, theatre director/playwright, photographer and traveller. Reach him at rahul.dacunha@mid-day.com
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