The Vinglish in my disoriented world

I knew life in Australia won’t be easy. What I didn’t know was that life would be this difficult. That it would be tougher than having to do your laundry and utensils, tougher than converting dollars into rupees to get a sense of the expense each time. Someone had even forewarned me that you can never work hard enough in Australia.

A human being’s basic need, besides a few others, is to communicate and converse. The land of my dreams, Australia put a full stop to my non-stop chatter and hearty laughter. It made me equate my IQ with the syllables of English I knew. I moved to Australia two years back to settle there, to trudge paths that I saw in Hollywood flicks — pristine and all.

I hadn’t even finished my Class XII, when I had started scouting colleges and universities in Canada and Australia. What stood between my dream and its turning true was IELTS. Getting the required band was a struggle I still hadn’t forgotten. Once, I managed to cross it in the second attempt, and landed in Australia, I realised utopia was but a myth, and struggle was yet to begin. The skyscrapers and the Opera House dazzled me, but all that Australia, double the size of my country, could spare for me was a tiny-winy one-room apartment. That too I shared with a fellow Indian, who took the flight to the foreign land three months before me.

In a way, both of us were new to the alien country, newer to the alien language and its slangs. I would get jitters at the thought of stepping out and conversing with others. All routes were a maze and all destinations a milestone to cross each time.

Buying basic stuff from grocery stores seemed like an uphill task. An employee at the store counter would say something else and I would comprehend something else. Embarrassment became a daily affair, only I didn’t know how to break up with it. The university I went to with dreams in my eyes seemed every bit a nightmare. Not a word I would understand in the lecture halls.

After six months, I managed to speak in English somehow, but the inherent accent made it sound so French to others. English is the basic requirement when it came to getting jobs here. I enrolled into an English-learning course. It took me a few months to get a hang of it and interacting with natives in their language helped as well. I binge-watched English movies and shows too. All to make peace with the pace the language is spoken at.

Eventually, I got a job in a factory. I am still trying to fit in the system. But it is one step at a time. Now that the language is somewhat conquered, I am putting my heart and soul in growing professionally. But like someone said, you can never work hard enough in here.

Help at hand

Australian government offers Adult Migrant English Program (AMEP) with focus on newly-arrived migrants so they can learn English skills. The eligible people can get up to 510 hours of free English tuition. Some universities also offer basic courses free of cost after sending them offer letter for admissions. (Name has been changed)