When Gurazada Apparao wrote his first draft of Kanyasulkam in 1897, he used regional dialect quite naturally and with great flavour. At that time, it was embraced as a masterpiece of Telugu literature by all regions, irrespective of the peculiar dialect he used (Northern Andhra). To this day, this play is enjoyed, admired and revered as the best modern play in Telugu, not just the best writing in that dialect. Those were the days when the term “dialect’ was hardly used and such writing was only called ‘common man’s language’ irrespective of the area it came from. In fact, no one questioned how readers of different areas could understand certain words and phrases used in that memorable play. They took the help of people of that area willingly so that they could savour the beauty of that language.
But later things changed. Telugu language started seeing itself in different “dialects”, ie Coastal, Rayalaseema, Telangana and Northern Andhra. Established writers like Dasarathi Rangacharya, Vattikota Alwarswamy (Telangana), Chaganti somayajulu, Kaleepatnam Ramarao, Ravi Sastry (Northern Andhra), for instance wrote specifically in their dialects, highlighting the beauty of their language. In fact, one major writer, Poranki Dakshina Murthy wrote novels in all the three major dialects of Andhra Pradesh. While all these developments took place, using a regional dialect was considered “a wonderful experiment and contribution to the language’ as a whole. There was no discussion on their “regional identity”. Language was not yet considered a symbol of identity.
But, once the identity movements (gender, religious, dalit etc) emerged in the eighties of the past century, there has been a major shift in the attitudes of both the writers and readers regarding language. Language itself has become a movement. It is no longer just a useful tool in the hands of the writer; the writer is now proud of using his “dialect”.
And the most interesting part of the debate is that the word “dialect’ is no longer accepted by the writers. They claim that this word is demeaning and disrespectful. They prefer calling all the different “dialects’ as “languages”, ie Telangana language, Rayalaseema language etc. It does lead to some confusion, of course, because all of them, still belong to the language “Telugu’. In fact, there is no need for anyone to feel the word “dialect’ as degrading; it is only a usage of convenience since one cannot deny that, after all, all these variations are part of one language, Telugu.
One more interesting development is that variations within the dialect are also now apparent. For instance, from the same region, language differs according to profession, caste and religion. Even these minute differences in the language are reflecting in contemporary literature. A few pundits are unhappy with the changing of the trends, where the idea of one “standard written language” is vehemently rejected. But, notwithstanding their objection, the common reader is enjoying all these variations.
The best part of the current trend is that there is now no discomfort in reading any “dialect” text. This reminds me of my recent conversation with Chinese writers when, as part of Sahitya Akademi delegation I visited China last August. They seemed quite proud of the fact that most of their literature is written in one language, Mandarin. They were surprised to learn that not only do we, in India, write in different languages, but also have variations within the same language. Our delegation, definitely came away feeling very proud of our rich, varied heritage, while, in China, the different dialects (nearly 50 as per their own submission) are still trying to find voice in literature.
