When you are away from your place, language, and culture, you tend to love them more. It is just part of human psychology that you long for something you cannot attain; someone or something that is far from you.
This is quite evident when we see NRIs going gaga over their mother tongues and desi festivals. Every language has such non-residents promoting it and trying to preserve their traditions. In keeping with this, every year, organisations from abroad (read US) spend a few days in Andhra Pradesh and convey their dedication and commitment to the mother tongue, birth place and mother culture. They honour a few stalwarts from different fields; organise a lavish cultural programme and probably a more lavish dinner for a select few to reinstate their commitment to the mother tongue and birth place. There is no doubting their sincerity but the effect of such celebrations is very much in question. It is, more often than not, limited to the few days they spend here. No serious literary or cultural issue is addressed; everything is on the periphery; no depth of thought or expression is expected or accepted. The locals, are, in any case, very thankful for these occasions; they praise the commitment of the long and far gone “sons of the soil for their commitment and dedication to the language and culture; they lament the lack of such sentiments among those who are here. Of course, they go back with some satisfaction, but in actual terms, it makes little difference to the language or the culture here. It is just one more function, all said and done. But maybe, it is also a necessary part of contemporary pop culture.
Having said that, there are occasions when non-residents do show real enthusiasm for their language and literature. Thus, it was a pleasant experience to see that Telugus in one state at least are seriously interested in what’s happening in Andhra Pradesh. This was in ample evidence at the recent All India Telugu Meet at Brahmapuram, Orissa. As part of the organisers’ team from Telugu University, I was genuinely surprised to see hundreds turn up for the academic seminars. In Hyderabad, it’s a big joke if more than 20 people attend a literary seminar. People start wondering if we are providing snacks or lunch.
With such experiences at Hyderabad, we arranged chairs for 30-40 spectators because, after all, it contained serious papers on Telugu language, performing arts, classical and modern literature. But lo and behold. We had people, so many people that some remained standing even after 100 chairs were provided, and they listening carefully to all the presentations. They were not all from the literary fraternity. They were members of the public who were eager to listen to ideas on literature.
This was a heartening moment. Also, it wasn’t as if there were only one or two seminar sessions. There were seven sessions, including parallel ones (for lack of time) and all were full of interested spectators who even participated in the discussions. They were happy to see so many Telugu scholars in their town at one time, I was told. It was definitely ego-boosting to most of us, who generally keep wondering if we really mean something to anyone in the literary field. So the next time we Telugus want to have a successful seminar, the message is clear: leave our grand city of Hyderabad and search for greener pastures.