Main tumse pyaar karti hoon
When I first came back to India at the end of 2016 and we relocated to Vizag, I did not share a common language with the receptionists at the local YMCA, where I stayed on my own for the first month. They did not understand English much and I did not know Hindi, except for a few phrases insignificant in that setting, not to mention the official local language Telugu. Our communication was mostly just waving our hands and nodding our heads, smiling, and catching a word we understood, or guessed, here and there.
One day though, I recognised the familiar tune of my old favourite Backstreet Boys — Show Me The Meaning Of Being Lonely as it came on in the radio. I saw the same reaction on the lady receptionist’s face and we both started moving slowly to the rhythm, first carefully humming along and finally belting it out wholeheartedly. And for that moment we weren’t lonely at all or divided by our language barrier, as there was something much deeper than the superficial construction of language and words that we got to share. However, more often than not we do need the help of a shared language to build a bridge between each other.
I recently started practising Hindi on a regular basis. I was always nervous about it, as I felt shy about trying to talk to people in my terrible accent or abrupt sentences. Learning a new language, so unlike any of those I already spoke, felt too great of a challenge, but I realise I need it in order to build the bridge. I’ve picked up some phrases here and there along the way — when you hear your partner order panch roti enough times, it’s impossible not to learn how to do it yourself — but I completely lack the ability to even have the most basic conversation or understand spoken Hindi when I hear it. So I started with learning how to say things I most often use in my own language too, such as good morning, thank you and, most importantly, I love you.
I went around the city, proud of myself, making sure I dropped some Hindi in every short encounter I had. I said suprabhat to the doormen and fruit vendors in the morning, dhanyavaad to waiters and store assistants and auto drivers and basically anyone who smiled and did something nice for me. In my enthusiasm I missed the rolling eyes and took quick smiles for appreciation of the gori learning a local language, which I have since learned was not the case. I thanked my boyfriend for passing me the salt and rinsing the tea cups and paying me back for our monthly expenses, I wished him suprabhat every morning, no matter how cranky and tired I felt. He would laugh at how weird those words sounded, as they’re actually not used in India. But that’s how I was raised, to always remember to greet and thank others and voice them my appreciation for their ‘great effort’. To always have manners especially at home with those closest to you. If you don’t say thank you, you don’t feel grateful.
One of my biggest issues in my relationship has been that sometimes I don’t feel my boyfriend tells me he loves me enough. Sometimes I snap when once again I whisper my I love you’s in his ear and he says he loves me too. Why can’t he ever be the one to say it first? He says that it’s just really hard for him. He doesn’t see it like that. One day he came home from work and we shared a tender moment and I whispered the words I had learned earlier that day. Main tumse pyaar karti hoon. He kissed my cheek and commended me for my pronunciation, but laughed that no one would ever really use those words. We just really don’t say these things, he told me.
That’s when it finally hit me. There are many things grammar books and language apps can not teach. Thoughts and ideas, phrases or even specific words will not be translated to the full. Something will always be lost in translation, a sentiment or a meaning. Language is not just a bridge. Language is culture itself. Instead of just being a vehicle for conveying thoughts, language also shapes the mind and you shape the language. And to truly understand another you must immerse yourself in it.
I love you, thank you or even good morning in English and Hindi mean very different things. But of course you are here next to me in the morning, so why would you wish me a good morning? You are my guest, you are my friend, you are my family, obviously I will help you. You are my lover and I am here sharing my life with you, of course I love you. Sometimes, rarely, dhanyavaad may be reserved for strangers, as a sort of an invitation to form a new relationship, a cycle of exchange where you do things for each other, because you care, obviously — even the Hindi main tumse pyaar karti hoon contains the verb do, I to you love do. But you are already intimate or have some kind of a relationship, so why would you violate that bond and create formality and distance yourself by saying the words?
For me the greatest challenge in learning this new language isn’t the vocabulary or grammar or even having the guts to use it in the outside world. It’s learning to not use it, to not depend on mere language in communication and to trust that leaving things unsaid is enough. In the Hindi language, in everyday gestures and culture there is an unspoken understanding. It’s a given. I’m grateful and I’m in love. But you already know what I’m saying, right?
