BY K. RAMAKOTISWARA RAU

Now that the Viceroy is back in India, the public-and the pressmen-are intrigued about the prospects of Federation. Has Lord Linlithgow brought with him clear instructions to proceed with the federal part of the Constitution? Will he conciliate the Princes as well as the Congress? Are the Princes being offered more favourable terms to induce them to join the Federation? Is the Viceroy meeting Gandhiji? Or, will the whole scheme be put off indefinitely in the event of a war in Europe?

On the side of the Congress, hostility to the present scheme of Federation shows no signs of abatement. With one more Province, Assam, coming under the Congress regime, there are increasing chances of a persistent and combined attack on the scheme; and, unless alternative Cabinets can be got to function in all these Provinces–an impossible contingency–the British Government will be obliged to yield to the Congress demand for a new Constitution. Any transitional arrangements that may be agreed to, can only be a prelude to the eventual summoning of a Constituent Assembly of the Nation.

Apart from the safeguards and the reservations which cut at the root of any plan of self-government, the Congress objects to the representation of the States in the federal legislature through a system of nomination by the Durbars. Even if complete Responsible Government is not established in every one of the major States forthwith, steps have to be taken in that direction, by the formation of representative assemblies empowered to elect the members of the first federal legislature. The Congress may be expected to take a strong attitude on this question: the recent editorial article in The Times has only served to further clarify the issue. The States’ people are asserting their rights, and, despite stray lapses, the movement is, in the main, peaceful and well-organised. In every State, the objective is definitely the achievement of Responsible Government, under the aegis of the Ruler. If, instead of looking for support to the British Government, the Rulers and their advisers have the wisdom and the foresight to fall in line with the rest of India, they will have made a splendid contribution to the solution of the Indian problem.

Putting things together, it looks as if the coming months will be devoted to exploring the possibilities of peace in India, so that the energies of the entire nation may be devoted to the achievement of ordered progress, even as such progress is being achieved today in the limited sphere of the Provinces.

Prof. Madhav T. Patwardhan, the gifted poet and scholar of Maharashtra, writes in the present number of Triveni on the question of an all-India language. While conceding that such a lingua franca is necessary for purposes of federal administration and for interprovincial contacts, he urges that the dominance of the regional language within each region should be assured, in administration, in legislation, and in education up to and including the Universities. In the policy of some of the Congress Cabinets, and in the statements of some Congress leaders, he senses a danger to that dominance of the regional languages. I am in general agreement with him about the need to preserve and enrich the different languages of India by allowing them undisputed sway within their respective areas. He quotes a recent editorial note of mine in which I observe that there are genuine apprehensions about the possible danger to the regional language from the dominance of Hindustani. But in the course of the same note I state clearly that these apprehensions have been taken into account by the Congress Government in Madras. The adoption of the local tongue not only as a compulsory subject of study but also as the medium of instruction in all schools, including the High Schools, and the assurance that failure to pass the test in Hindustani will not be a bar to promotion to a higher standard, constitute, in my view, sufficient protection for the local language. If this is borne in mind, it will be realised that Prof. Patwardhan is not correct when he speaks of Hindustani "being forced down the throats" of non-Hindustani boys and girls.

I take it that it is the desire of Congressmen in every Province that the local language should, within a short period, become the medium of instruction in the Universities, and that similarly it should be the language of legislation and of administration throughout the Province. Though no authoritative ministerial statement on these lines has been issued, as Prof. Patwardhan complains, it is nevertheless true that Congressmen are clear in their minds about the respective positions to be assigned to Hindustani and to the local language.

Prof. Patwardhan is a scholar in Persian and Sanskrit, and he makes some valuable suggestions about the independent growth of Hindi with its bias towards Sanskrit, and of Urdu with a similar bias in favour of Persian and Arabic. In between these two languages, Hindustani–which will draw upon both sources and will be easily understood even by those who are not learned scholars in Persian or Sanskrit–will evolve and fix itself, as Gandhiji emphasizes in his recent article in the Harijan. This Hindustani, which the Congress is anxious to foster, will be written in both scripts–Devanagari and Persian–and, being used primarily as the language of central administration and of interprovincial contacts, it will tend more and more to assimilate new words from every Indian language. University education will nowhere be imparted in it, and literary craftsmanship will not be attempted in it; and Hindi and Urdu will pursue their different ways in accordance with their individual genius. Only where either of them happens to be the regional language, will they be used for educational and administrative purposes.

I am very anxious that this new Hindustani should grow rapidly, that a working knowledge of it should spread by its being taught in secondary schools, and that the war of scripts should be set at rest by the Roman alphabet being adopted for Hindustani, while Hindi will be written in Devanagari, and Urdu in Persian script.

In any discussion about a lingua franca for India, it should not be forgotten that the provincial languages must gather strength, and become the languages of government within the Provinces. Such a scheme necessarily implies the redistribution of India into Provinces on the basis of language. This is fundamental, and any failure to recognise this position can only lead to a confusion of issues. As in the case of every important forward step, some practical difficulties have to be encountered with regard to this linguistic redistribution. One of them is the future of bi-lingual cities like Bombay and Madras. Should Bombay become part of Maharashtra or Gujarat? Will Madras be included in Andhra or Tamil Nad? From one point of view, the ideal location for the capital of any linguistic Province is the heart of the area where the language is spoken,–where the distinctive culture and traditions of the people have been preserved with care. Thus, Ahmedabad and Poona are the proper capitals for Gujarat and Maharashtra, and Madura and Bezwada for Tamil Nad and Andhra. Cities like Bombay and Madras should be reconstituted as autonomous Provinces, with their own legislatures and administrative organization. In such cities, both the languages will be recognised as the official languages, and the cities will necessarily take on a cosmopolitan colour by reason of their situation as important sea-ports and centres of trade and commerce.

One important suggestion made by Sir S. Radhakrishnan, President of the recent session of the Andhra Mahasabba at Madras, and endorsed by the Conference, was that Madras may become the Andhra capital, or, in the alternative, the seat of both the administrations. As a transitional arrangement, two capitals can be located in the same city, and it is to be hoped that this will not lead to any acrimonious controversies as to whether Madras is an exclusively Andhra or Tamil city. In its origin it was Andhra, but today it is bi-lingual, and both Andhras and Tamils have contributed to its growth and prosperity. Discussion is already raging in quarters which are anxious to press exclusive claims, but the part of statesmanship seems to lie in Madras being accepted for the time being as a joint capital, allowing events to shape themselves in the coming decades.

VEENA DHANAMMAL ¹

The death of Veena Dhanam sounds like the doom of what is chaste, pellucid and uncloying in Karnatic music. For with her ends the line of great artistes who combined an easy mastery of technique with a style that was singularly free from a tendency to overload. Indeed, all true art consists in the economy of expression, and selection. And Dhanam excelled no less in her flair for the simple and beautiful in music than in preserving the pristine purity of South Indian Ragas.

If birth and early associations have a share in the making of an artiste, Dhanam had them in a full measure. She was the grand-daughter of Kamakshi, a reputed dancer of her day. Her own mother was a worthy disciple of Subbaraya Sastri, the son of the famous composer Syama Sastri of Tanjore. Other eminent musicians like Dharmapuri Subbaraya Aiyar, Sathanur Panchu, Alasingariah, and Gouri of Mylapore, moulded her youthful talents into shape. To these masters she owed her inexhaustible repertoire, so rich and varied, and became a perpetual object of admiration to many a modern aspirant for fame. Dhanam’s genuine devotion to the Muse of music cannot be better borne out than by her unique rendering of Kshetragna’s padams which are the peculiar possession of Dhanam’s family today, not to speak of a variety of Tamil songs and padams culled from various sources.

In the true spirit of seekers of knowledge, a select group always gathered round her in her home in George Town on Friday evenings, when she sat blind and shrunk like a mummy, with the articulate Veena in her hands. Despite age and decrepitude, her vocal powers to the last maintained a high quality. At her touch on the Veena, ethereal music pervaded the atmosphere; clear sounds and correct expressions lingered with grace on her lips. Nobody returned home dissatisfied from worshiping at her shrine. The swaying Gamakas of her music seemed to liberate the mind of the listener into a serene and peaceful reverie of the glories of Karnatic music.

To the uninitiated ear, she was perhaps not prepossessing. But on cultivation she grew upon her listener to such an extent that he would recognise no peer to her. Though for nearly five decades and more her Veena and her voice had rivaled each other in exploring the limitless expanse of imagination, it was only the last few closing years of her life that saw her coming into her own and making willing converts to her creed. It proves only too well that in the world of art, as in life, the truly beautiful will be ultimately seen. Do we need then echo that "in the midst of darkness light persists"?