Beauty and Need of non-English Languages

There was an article a few weeks back in the Times of India on foreigners taking intensive Gujarati language classes in order to be able to read Gandhi for themselves and better understand his philosophy. This came as no surprise.

As a Hindi, Gujarati and English speaker and a student of French and Spanish, I have gotten a chance to explore language. I recall cringing at the English subtitles during songs as they destroyed the beauty and nuances of the original words. Compared to these other languages, English does not have the depth.

Learning philosophy from Guruji, I am often confronted with this topic. Guruji's native tongue is Gujarati (with fluency in Hindi and Urdu as well). Often, I am taught in English. Being taught in English, basically means that Guruji does a mental translation from Gujarati to English. Many times, as the topics and ideas are complex, I ask Guruji to speak in Gujarati as he is naturally more at ease explaining in Gujarati. When he does this, I am mentally translating the Gujarati into English before comprehending. I am fairly fluent in common Gujarati, but did not have an extensive vocabulary of philosophical words. Less frequently now, but more so in the start, my learning was slowed by language.

There was an article on BBC a while back on native vs non-native English speakers. It spoke of how native English speakers could not easily understand the English of non-native English speakers, while non-native speakers easily understood the English of non-native speakers, regardless of their nationality or native language. The way native English speakers understand the language is very difficult from non-native speakers and I see this divide very clearly in India and during my philosophy classes.

Guruji is fluent in English, but he is not a native speaker. In fact, he never formally learnt English. In every day situations, English communication is never problematic. However, there are times during philosophy lectures when I have to ask him to repeat a sentence, as I get thrown off by the grammar or the use of a particular word. The mental process to understand the meaning of the sentence is brought to a small stop because of something that a non-native speaker would probably not even notice.

Just a few days ago, he was speaking to me about the basis of yoga. The topic made its way to the difference between science and spirituality. The difference can be understood through correct understanding of the words vishmay and akarshan. In a Gujarati-English dictionary they are given similar meanings - wonder or surprise. However, the words have very connotations. One has a spiritual dimension, one a physical. English, as far as I know, does not have two separate that have the same surface meaning, but different nuances - driving home the idea yet again that the English language is limited, particularly in its spiritual/ metaphysical vocabulary.

Even the ghazals and poetry in Indic language cannot be justly translated into English. Nor can they be readily understood by a non-native speaker without study. When you think of how the world is rapidly losing its languages and immigrant children around the world, but particularly in English speaking countries, are failing to learn their native tongues, there is an important question to be raised about how much of the world's cultural heritage we are losing.

I have been blessed to be raised in a home where Gujarati was and still is spoken today; to be taught Gujarati from my grandmother and within the school system; and to have the opportunity to visit and live in Gujarat where I can practice my Gujarati to this day.

I know that at some point in my journey to learn and explore philosophy, particularly Indian philosophy, if I want to be able to make my own interpretations and develop my own understanding without an intermediary, who to some degree always inserts their own bias or understanding, I, too, like the foreigners in the Times of India article will have to vigorously learn the language. Until then, there shall be some handicap, which I continue to try to overcome by expanding my vocabulary and fluency.

Importance of Education - Story 1

A re-occurring theme as of late has been the power of knowledge and the importance of education as a mechanism for change.

One of the most imprinting experiences I had in Canada this past trip came rather unexpectedly. Every time I come to Toronto, which is quite infrequent, my little cousins (now 7 -12), repeatedly request my parents to have me stay at their home, making their case well before my arrival. My schedule and their school schedule generally clash dramatically meaning that during the previous two trips, I only spent about an hour or two with them. This time, I had window of free time, which I decided to spend with them.

As I went to pick them up, I recalled a previous trip, where they had shown me their mini-fridge full of junk food. I remembered the horror I felt in learning of their excessive sugar consumption and decided to inquire more about their eating habits this time and talk to them about healthy eating.

When I arrived at their door to pick them up, I waited as the eldest handed my uncle a diagram depicting the order in which the layers of lasagna were to be placed so that we would have a correctly assembled meal for dinner. After everyone was seat-belted in the car, I asked them about what they ate. Knowing them to be picky eaters, I was super surprised at what I heard.

The three of them proceeded in turn to tell me about their fruit and vegetable rich diet and their lack of chocolate consumption over the last two years.

"Did you see our fruit bowl?", the youngest asks.

"Right now we have clementines, apples and bananas. Every day we have at least 2 fruits for dessert and another fruit for a snack," the middle one explains.

"Okay, so you eat healthy food for lunch and dinner, what about breakfast?"

"Well, we both eat Cherrios, but HE doesn't like them. He eats Fruit Loops and Lucky Charms," says the eldest matter-of-factly, referring to the middle brother.

"Fruit Loops! and Lucky Charms?!" I exclaim.

"We tell him they aren't good for him, but he doesn't listen. Actually in school, they asked us to bring in our cereal and we tested them for sugar levels and nutrients and those cereals were the worst," the youngest adds in.

That's when I realized where this all was coming from. Through school and the child care programs, my cousins were learning about healthy eating. When they were in daycare, I remember the meal plans they were sent home, but that is a standard practice. In the US in particular (I personally don't feel its as bad in Canada), general obesity and child obesity rates have been on the climb. One reason cited is the increased child consumption of junk food and processed food. I was encouraged to hear that the school system was fighting back by teaching kids about healthy eating. They not only taught children, but brought the discussion home to the parents during parent-teacher meetings and letters. I was getting a chance to see the results in person.

I joined the girls in explaining to my cousin why he shouldn't eat Fruit Loops and Lucky Charms. We got him to promise that he would stop eating them and all three decided to tell their dad about buying better alternatives instead (as they don't go cereal shopping with him).

As you can imagine, I had a huge smile on my face throughout that conversation with my cousins. But the best part was yet to come. For dinner, we had lasagna full of mixed vegetables including peas and carrots. Again, the topic of fruits and vegetables came up.

"You better finish all those vegetables, don't just eat the cheese," I told them.

"Give her more peas," the brother says pointing to the youngest, who happens to wear glasses. "They're good for her eyes."

Her reply was icing on the cake.

"You're wrong. Beta carotene is good for your eyes and carrots have them, not peas. And anyways, I took extra vegetables"

Rhythm Riders - world of tabla, indian music and dance

As Rhythm Riders continues to grow, there have been lots of changes happening, including a makeover of our electronic presence. We've launched our newly-designed website. Please check it out at www.rrmproductions.com. It'll give you more information about the wonderful people I work with and the amazing environment of music that I am blessed to be apart of.

Tabla Ecstasy and Jindidi chale Canada

In October, I returned back to Canada to welcome the Rhythm Riders family to my birthplace. The leaves had started to change colours in preparation for their arrival, ready to display the beauty of autumn and the wind had picked up to give them a cold Canadian welcome I suppose.

It was a busy, super successful and fun-filled trip. I got to show everyone the place I called home for so many years. Most members of Tabla Ecstasy were in Toronto for the first time. In the months before the trip, I, along with those who had been to Toronto, had been preparing a list of things that we had to do. We crammed in as much as possible in the limited time between rehearsals and shows. The reactions were exactly as anticipated. It was a joy to share so much in those few days. Watching them take everything in made me appreciate the common sights and sounds I often take for granted.

On the music side, the trip was a HUGE success. All the audiences were left spellbound and appreciated the artists with standing ovations. We had a great mix in the audiences we performed for - from true listeners of Indian classical music/dance to completely untrained ears, who had come to show out of intrigue - and the response was overwhelming. New connections were forged and the concert organizers all offered their support for future tours. On the personal front, people from my community got an even better idea of what I am aiming for as they heard Tabla Ecstasy and began to understand the level of tabla playing that I am striving for in order to turn professional (and of course through Guruji they see what is possible even beyond that). Jindidi impressed as always with her wonderful Kathak performances.

The tour had been planned for months, but it went by in a flash. There were many lessons, great fun, tons of memories and of course, lots of pictures. I got a new DSLR right before the tour and managed to get some great shots of the concerts. The tour would not have been possible without the support of a lot of people and I especially have to give a huge thank you to my family and family friends for going out of their way to make this trip special for everyone. When seeing everyone in action, particularly my parents, I am reminded time and time again that my own drive to help others was instilled in me through their example.

Colours of Light

As I prepare to make a rangoli outside my apartment to welcome in the New Year tomorrow, I remember a Diwali from three years ago that I will never forget.

Happy Diwali and Saal Mubarakh!

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It was Diwali. During the five days, women draw beautiful images outside their homes with coloured sand, rice and grains (called rangolis) to decorate their homes and welcome the new year and visitors.

Over the few months that I had spent volunteering, I continually was awed from the wonderful rangolis that a colleague of mine created for various occasions. His work always brighten the space they are in and the people that see them. Inspired by their beauty, I decided try my hand at rangolis. These beautiful works of art would be a wonderful way to express my gratitude to the many people who have showered me with their love and affection. As is the experience of many NRI volunteers in India, I felt humbled and immensely indebted to the many caring souls that went out of their way to make me feel at home in Ahmedabad, a place miles away from my birthplace in North America.

Arming myself with bags of coloured sand, I first practiced outside the volunteer home where I was staying. After a few tries, I felt confident in my work. As I made my way from home to home, I could not contain my cheer. As I spread the sand, I silently gave my thanks to each individual and prayed that the new year brought new hope and prosperity to each. At every home, the children would crowd around welcoming me with their smiles and watching intently as each rangoli unfolded. Each then added their own touch to the final piece and we created a colourful display full of love and good wishes.

Such a simple thing brought so much joy to all. The small grains of sand became colours of light and were the perfect way to celebrate Diwali and welcome the new year.