‘TRIVENI’
HAS SHED LIGHT ON MY PATH.
BLESSED BE HER NAME!
‘THE
TRIPLE STREAM’ 1
By
K. RAMAKOTISWARA RAU
Re-thinking
The
discussions following upon the publication of the Official Language
Commission’s report, and the presentation to Parliament of the Parliamentary
Committee’s views on that report, make it imperative
that some amount of re-thinking should be done by those amongst us who wish to
preserve a proper balance between the claims of reason and of emotion. A decade
has passed since the framers of our Constitution declared that within fifteen
years Hindi should replace English as the Official Language of the Union for
Central and inter-Statal purposes. That decision was
epoch-making and registered the will of a nation emerging into freedom and
over-anxious to wipe out whatever was likely to remind it of the ugly days of
subjection to foreign rule. The advocates of English could make no headway against the prevailing sentiment, and a battle-royal had to
be waged even for the preservation of international numerals!
The
protagonists of Hindi were not content with the success they had achieved. Led
by scholars of distinction like Sri Purushottamdas Tandon and Seth Govind Das, they
launched an India-wide campaign for the speedy elimination of English from all
spheres of public activity. They looked upon those who pleaded for the
retention of English for a longer period or for the acceptance of a bilingual
formula–English and Hindi–as the lingering remnants of a by-gone age, and,
worse, as the unconscious agents of our erstwhile masters. They talked, in and
out of season, of the final banishment of English and the enthronement of Hindi
in our courts and legislatures, schools and colleges, offices and business
houses. They rendered lip-service to the other regional languages. But, while
they were keen on the immediate and compulsory teaching of Hindi in non-Hindi
regions, they made not the slightest effort to induce their Hindi brethren to
learn any one of the other Indian languages. These stalwarts were in a majority
on the Official Language Commission, and overcame the objections urged by
leaders of thought representing the non-Hindi areas. A recommendation that an
Indian language other than Hindi should be taught in schools in the
Hindi-speaking States was not favoured by the
majority, though it must be said to the credit of the Parliamentary Committee
that they favoured this eminently reasonable
suggestion in the interests of the emotional integration of the people all over
By
slow degrees the intellectuals in the East and South of India found their
voices. A leader of the stature of Sri Rajaji who was formerly at the head of
the Hindi Prachar movement in
Sri
Rajaji and others who saw the force of his contention banded themselves and set
up organisations to focus public opinion on this
vital issue. They made out an excellent case for the maintenance of the status
quo and for a fresh examination of the issues involved, in an atmosphere of
calm, unswayed by emotion. They were not suggesting
that English should be the sole official language for all time; that was a
matter for a future generation to decide in the light of circumstances then
prevailing. But at the moment it was not wise to throw away the advantages we
had reaped through an effective medium of national and international
significance which had served us so well. To treat it as ‘foreign’ would be
utterly at variance with the experience gathered and expressed through our
cultural and political life for over a century.
But
there are publicists, like my esteemed friend Sri P. Kodanda
Rao, who have set up contrary currents of feeling by evolving a new slogan:
“English ever; Hindi never.” They seem to think that at no foreseeable future
could any Indian language–much less a comparatively undeveloped one like
Hindi–aspire to be an official language of the Indian Union. By this
intransigent attitude, they have weakened an otherwise good cause. Between them
and the Tandons and Govind Dases, there can be no peace or understanding. It is to the
Subbaroyans and Suniti
Kumar Chatterjees that we have to look for proper
guidance.
The
regional languages at the State level, and English and Hindi at the all-India
level, may have to be accepted as a working formula for some decades, even
after 1965. If, as seems likely, the regional languages are accepted as the
media of instruction in our Universities, English must be taught all over
Both
the Official Language Commission and the Parliamentary Committee treat the
time-limit of 1965 as sacrosanct, and wish to make some transitional provisions
to satisfy the people of the non-Hindi areas. They argue that, because the
States will soon switch over to the regional languages for administration, the
all-India official language cannot be English but only Hindi. This does not
necessarily follow. It would be a great advantage, from every point of view to
accept both English and Hindi as the principal official languages of the
Two
great countries of Asia, linked by age-long cultural ties, and anxious to preserve
the most friendly relations, are today ranged on
opposite sides as a result of recent happenings in
In
this welter of conflicting views and the clash of ideologies, a statesman like
Nehru may be trusted to act with calm dignity and the restraint that is born of
true culture. The charges hurled by
To
Indians,
Nehru
is firm in his resolve to stand by the Dalai Lama and the people of
The
sympathies of all peace-loving people go out to the Dalai Lama. The pressure of
public opinion in many lands must ultimately prevail, and enable him to return
to
I
am grateful to Sri D. V. Gundappa for the following
valuable note on Sri Masti Venkatesa
Iyengar’s historical novel. It is unfortunate that
the Sahitya Akademi should have abandoned the
proposal to get the novel translated into all the Indian languages:
“Chenna Basava Nayaka
seeks to embody, in the form of a novel, the life of the
people in the North-Western part of
“The
book was first published in Kannada in 1949–ten years ago; and a translation of
it in English by Rajasevaprasakta Sri Navaratna Rama Rao was issued in 1957. That a man of
letters and a retired administrative officer of the high distinction of Sri Navaratna Rama Rao should have made himself
responsible for the English version is in itself a unique testimony to the
impeccable and exalted quality of the work. Recognizing this, the Sahitya Akademi was considering a proposal to make the work
available in translation to the public of other Indian languages. The Kannada
Advisory Board of the Akademi supported the idea and,
perhaps, initiated it. The prospect of a greater vogue for the novel thus
seemed near. It was at this stage, some nine years after the first publication
of the book, that certain Lingayat gentlemen came to fancy in the work
something disparaging to their community. It was nothing to them that the
entire past of the writer repudiates the possibility of such an inclination
in him. All who know Sri Venkatesa Iyengar know that he is singularly incapable of insulting
or hurting any one. On the other hand,
he has taken a large and active part in interpreting the teachings of Sri Basavesvara, and in striving for the harmony of heart among
the followers of our various faiths. He is by conviction as well as nature, a
man of peace and goodwill.
“It
is an accepted canon all the world over that the imaginative writer–poet or
dramatist, novelist or fabulist–serves his fellowmen by revealing to them a new
vision of life, its unsuspected heights or its undiscovered depths; that, for
this purpose, he might draw his material from anywhere; that he may re-shape it
anyhow; and that for any one to interfere with the free flow of his speech or
song is to deprive the community of the very best that he has in him to give.
The imaginative writer has to deal more with possibilities and probabilities
than with actualities. He has to speculate, re-fashion and bring convincing
verisimilitude into his picture. To do this successfully, he has to take
liberties with his raw material, whether it be drawn
from history or from legend, from folklore or from street gossip. All great
writers have done it. Shakespeare has done it. Dr. Puttappa
the Akademi Laureate, has
done it. Has the Sahitya Akademi examined this aspect
of the matter? Shakespeare, for example, is taken by some to have libelled the proletariat–the god of our day. Why does the Akademi want that Shakespeare translated? If there are
people who have made it their business to raise a grouse, they are not without
provocation in ‘Kuvempu’s’ writings. Has any one
squirmed? It is a compliment to the ordinary good sense of our people that they
generally let a writer pursue his path. Whether the writer succeeds in what he
sets out to accomplish is a different matter altogether. The vision he saw
might have been a false one. His own workmanship may have been faulty. He may
be lacking in any of a hundred factors needed in him and necessary for success,
or these may be in maladjustment and out of proportion. But, in any case, the
State ought not to give room for it to be said that he either failed or
suffered because of its meddlesome hand. In the present case, the
Government did not interfere directly with the writer’s liberty, but it has
approved of the raising of a wall around the light of his vision; and, in this,
it has proclaimed its readiness to discountenance certain altogether allowable
and even desirable forms of imaginative effort in literature. Is this doing
respect to republican freedom?”
1 May
8