FROM syllables to consonantal clusters and from orthography to semantics, just the sound of terms is enough to push many away in a country where the national language has had tough times from the outset and continues to get its fair share of lip service but nothing much beyond that. Rauf Parekh, however, has generated a lucid narrative on what on the surface appear to be dull and dry subjects like linguistics and lexicography. It’s no mean feat.
Parekh has divided his narrative into two main themes. Lisaniati Mubahis deals with the linguistic part having 10 distinct chapters, while Lughvi Mubahis takes care of issues related to Urdu lexicography and has nine chapters. Put together, the two books are actually like inseparable Siamese twins; the thread joining the two being his love for the language and his dismay at the neglect it has suffered for so long and which has only gained momentum all along.
He has set the tone rather early, in the Preface itself. Writes he, “The book may come handy for those students who are looking for books on Urdu linguistics and debates on modern linguistics. As for their teachers, they have already been so successful in worldly terms that academic progress is no more on their agenda.”
Through the prism of linguistics and lexicography, one can see the changed and the changing face of Urdu language
It does sound like poisoned satire, but is actually the elegy of a bleeding heart. One can be sure of that as soon as one moves to the next page where Parekh has set the record straight in terms of the general misperception that Urdu evolved as ‘the language of the garrison’ or, in the words of G.A. Grierson, “ … was a mongrel mixture of the languages of the various tribes who flocked to Delhi bazaar.” Teaching a university-level course related to the evolution of Urdu, Parekh says he was surprised that students across the board were already sold on the theory and were quite unwilling to take a fresh look at a debate which, according to them, had been settled “a century ago”. Even more surprised was Parekh when some of the teachers were also found sailing in the same boat.
Elsewhere in the book, he has noted with regret that students — misguided by misguided intellectuals — even questioned the language of the national anthem which, according to them, “hardly has a word of Urdu”. Rebuffing the argument with scholarly disdain, Parekh’s verdict is to the contrary. “The fact is that the national anthem comprises cent per cent Urdu words even if they have origins in some other languages.” The evolution of any language, he says, is a historical process spanning centuries and generations. English, he rightly points out, is a mixture of innumerable words from a host of languages from around the world. Some of those languages have gone obsolete themselves, but the adopted words are considered today to be perfectly English.
Likewise, howsoever Persianised or Arabicised the narrative may be, something in Urdu will be considered perfectly Urdu. If that is not the case, Urdu literature will stand deprived of its entire classical heritage, including much of Mirza Ghalib and even Allama Iqbal. It is another thing that as they evolve, languages not just adopt words, but also shed many by the wayside. As such, the language of, say, Maulana Abul Kalam Azad is not in vogue today, but the fact that his was as much Urdu as what we speak today is undeniable.
An interesting case in this regard, one might recall, is the difference between Mir Amman Dehlavi’s Baagh-o-Bahar and Rajab Ali Baig Suroor’s Fasana-e-Aja’ib. Both penned in the early 19th century represent, respectively, the modern and the classic variations of Urdu.
Parekh has divided his narrative into two main themes. Lisaniati Mubahis deals with the linguistic part having 10 distinct chapters, while Lughvi Mubahis takes care of issues related to Urdu lexicography and has nine chapters. Put together, the two books are actually like inseparable Siamese twins; the thread joining the two being his love for the language and his dismay at the neglect it has suffered for so long and which has only gained momentum all along.
Evolution, as such, is a process, and languages, argues Parekh, cannot be created artificially. To bolster his argument, he has cited the example of Esperanto, which was coined in 1887 with an amalgamation of mainstream European languages, but died a silent and rather unceremonious death. “Several hundred such attempts to create a language have failed in history and the remains of such dead languages are just the names that can be found in various books and encyclopaedia of linguistics.”