I was a witness to two narratives this past week: I read about the first one in the newspaper; there wasn’t much that I could contribute to, but be a passive observer of it. The second one, however, involved me to be an active participant in a narrative that has been catching steam over the last couple of years, especially in a generation that prides on being non-committal and not caring, and being superficial.
Let’s start with the first narrative then: off we go to the coveted IIT-Madras, where knowledge is aplenty, and so is their need to make an inter-collegiate programme exorbitant for no apparent reason. Here’s the deal, in one of their recent ceremonies, the student sang a rendition of Maha Ganapathim Manasa Smarami, penned by late composer Muthuswami Dikshithar as the invocation song, soon after arrival of dignitaries for the foundation stone laying ceremony of National Technology Centre for Ports, Waterways and Coasts, to be set up along with IIT Madras. And that Thamizh Thai Vazhthu is the song that’s usually played when a state Government ceremony begins.
Now, onto our second narrative: we are at a local’s household; one that houses friends of the early twenties variety. And given how it’s acceptable for social gatherings to watch scenes from movies, like an on-demand television, our set of friends (I was the fly on the wall, who would wander in, every now and then, just to test waters) are playing a scene from the supposedly superhit Meesaya Murukku (Twirl your moustache); the scene is one of the inciting incidents — one that involves the holier-than-thou father teaching a lesson to a teacher at a convent who had punished his kid for speaking in Tamil. The scene plays out like a lazy Sunday afternoon, never bothering to make an effort, but relying on ‘Tamil pride’ that might be coded in our genomes (Sarcasm, much?), with a long monologue that ends with the, now iconic nonsequitur “English pesinaalum Tamizhan da”.
Even though these two narratives have no real similarities in terms of cultural impact, it’s an interesting observation on pride: the first one’s motivation stems from political affiliations and propaganda while the second one has turned into a rhetoric about reclaiming identity.
I don’t have much to say or an opinion to offer; it just baffles me how language has trickled down into our pop culture, made its way into our homes, and the minds of the ones that matter, and at the end of the day, it isn’t about language at all.
A day shall come, a few decades from now when the self-proclaimed Bharatiyar of today might just have a few tracks of his own inciting every ceremony in the state. As a fly on the wall, hanging around in youth dens, I see language turn into everything but about the complications, beauty, and nuance of the language itself.
Bhargav Prasad
@CFLlightSabers
The writer specializes in first drafts, making observations on what makes Chennai, Madras