The predicament of language

Afew years ago, I took my friend, who had studied in a Hindi-medium school in Karnal, to one of the innumerable English coaching institutes in Delhi-NCR. Bitten by the English bug, he was hell-bent upon learning how to converse in farratedaar (fluent) English.

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The aura of that institute was rather intimidating for my friend. Conversing in Hindi, we approached the receptionist. She was a young woman who spoke with an artificial drawl. She phoned someone and we were asked to wait. After five minutes, a middle-aged woman appeared, with an identical put-on accent.

She gave a form to my friend, which he was supposed to fill without anyone’s help. She also gave him a paper with a few simple questions to gauge the level of his English. While he was filling the form, I was reading an Urdu newspaper, which I had brought along to while away the time. The woman asked me, ‘Aapko bhi admission lena hai?’ I replied in Hindi that I was still undecided about it. I didn’t disclose that I was well versed in the Queen’s English. Then she fired a salvo at me: ‘How good is your spoken English?’

I replied in Hindi that it was just passable. Trained in marketing skills as well, she lapped up the opportunity to rope me in along with my friend. She started ‘enlightening’ me that in today’s world, the importance of knowing English couldn’t be overestimated.

I told her that I’d think about it after seeing how fast my friend would learn to converse in English at her institute. ‘Aapke dost toh seekh hi jayenge, aap bhi fluent English bolne lagenge. Main aapka bhi admission kar deti hoon. Aapko concession bhi mil jayega! (Your friend will surely learn; you too will learn fast. I will give you admission, with a fee concession).’ She was very persistent. I appreciated her persuasive skills.

Somehow, I succeeded in not taking the bait. My friend joined that institute and attended classes for three months. The poor chap is still at sea when it comes to conversing in English. I feel sorry for him and for all those who join these institutes with a view to learning fluent English. There’s a saying in Urdu, ‘Gaye thay roza chhudane, namaaz gale pad gayee! (an unexpected problem that upsets your plans).’ Lest I should face a similar situation again, I have vowed never to accompany anyone to an English coaching centre.