Mum’s the word


By Tony Tharakan

When relatives or people from God’s own country (Kerala) drop by, the Supreme Court of Mom enforces a moratorium on my speaking in Malayalam. The chitter-chatter ceases as the guest senses my presence in the living room and asks me something. Mom butts in as I open my mouth – “He understands everything you say, but he speaks Malayalam with a Spanish accent. Did I tell you he’s learning French now?”

Malayalam_Script_(Aksharamala)_letters_-_word_colud.svgI hold no grudge against her for changing the topic. My propensity for malapropisms and spouting off-kilter phrases in Malayalam does generate merriment in certain circles. And it’s not really my fault.

When I was growing up in Pune, my nanny was a local Maharashtrian woman – which resulted in my speaking only Marathi at home. My working parents struggled to communicate with me as I nattered away in the native tongue of Sachin Tendulkar. When we moved to New Delhi, Hinglish replaced Marathi as lingua franca with Malayalam relegated to the status of a poor country cousin.

I am embarrassed by my inability to speak it fluently. And despite my efforts, I have never mastered the unique stop consonants of this Dravidian language. Native speakers may not even notice as they roll their tongues at various angles and yoke together syllables to assemble three different words that to me, for all intents and purposes, have the same pronunciation.

Not convinced? Here’s a typical day in the Tharakan household:

(Loud crash in the kitchen)
Me: What dog?
Mom: Nothing happened and stop calling me a dog. It’s ‘what happened?’

Me: If you turn right here, the fart is shorter. If you go straight, the fart is too long
Mom: Will you please stop talking about farts?
Me: Farts? What dog?
Mom: And don’t call me a dog either
Me: I don’t understand
Mom: You meant ‘way’ is shorter, not ‘fart’. And I’ve told you a million times to pronounce ‘what happened’ properly

Mom: Did you notice the vase on the shelf – isn’t it looking nice?
Me: I shit
Mom: Shh! Such gems fall from my son’s lips. And the neighbours will think your parents taught you this
Me: What dog?
Mom: It’s not ‘shit’, it’s ‘I saw’. You can’t just add -i everywhere and assume it’s past tense. You will make me forget Malayalam while correcting you

Me: Do you have to go to the lizard today?
Mom: Lizard? You mean ‘church’ – Yes, I am going this evening
Me: What dog?
Mom: The church is not a zoo – so stop talking about lizards and dogs

Me: I have fever today
Mom: What happened to the apple of my eye? Do you want some soup?
Me: Soup? I’m logged in on my laptop
Mom: Oh, you mean ‘work’, not ‘fever’. Your Malayalam will be the death of me one day

Mom: Your room is such a mess. Go clean it
Me: I know, I know. The lazy man will have to carry the breast
Mom: For heaven’s sake, it’s ‘mountain’, not ‘breast’
Me: Sigh! I will never understand Malayalam – everything sounds the same
Mom: They are totally separate sounds and there’s no way you can mix them up. Carry the breast, indeed. What nonsense!

Mom: Do you want some coffee?
Me: If I get it, I will kill you
Mom: May God forgive my son for he knows not what he speaks
Me: What dog?
Mom: That’s it! Do me a favour – stop talking in Malayalam. You are massacring my language

Image courtesy: Navaneeth Krishnan S [CC BY-SA]

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