The language is full of love, full of repulsion
- Unencumbered joy-inexhaustible antani
Bhasha bhaghe ki Bhur, Ranman Jite e Shur... but uncle turns around and says, bhasha bhaghe ki Bhur in 'P-Ran' Jite e Shur... In short, uncle calls the one who wins not in the battlefield but in the P-Barnfield as brave. Ranveer who shows valor in the desert and the bridegroom shows valor is the Ranveer...
The British went and put English. Kaka's birth also took place before independence, so he did not come out of the shadow of English. Garvi, a mixture of English and Gujarati, blabbers Pathukaka in Gujreji and says back to me that I know the mother tongue and know the other tongue too, so I have fun using Gujreji.
On Saturday morning, uncle left with a small tub of oil. I asked my uncle, 'Where are you going?' Uncle replied, 'As it is Saturday, I am going to do oiling at Rokdia Hanuman temple.' I chuckled and said, 'Instead of saying I am going to do oiling at the Hanuman temple, I should directly say that I am going to anoint Hanumanji with oil?' Uncle said, 'Do linguists say that mother tongue and foreign language should be respected? So I use the other tongue along with the mother tongue. Did you understand?'
I asked, 'Uncle, why is our language called mother tongue?' Uncle laughed and said, 'Calling the language the mother tongue? In every home only mother speaks, where does father get a chance to speak? So called mother tongue!'
We were standing and roasting the bhakri of the language, and from a distance we saw uncle's life Sangini and life's (Ho)Balakaki, who supports us in times of trouble, coming. Uncle immediately spoke, 'If my cookery is coming from far, cookery... now we will get together to eat after reaching home.'
I was surprised and asked, 'Why are you calling aunty a cookery? Cookery should be in Caram.' Uncle smiled and said, 'This is my pride in the excellence of the Gujreji language. Cooking is called cooking in English right? So my housekeeper and your aunt are cooking, so that's my cookery, right? It is my cookery and I put its mojilo...'
I asked, 'Aunty's mind is at rest and cooking is called cookery. That's right, but sometimes they come loose and don't cook and what happens when it's your turn to cook?'
Uncle replied, 'When aunty cooks, she doesn't even cook and when I have to cook, I become a cooker... Even so, in a city like Mumbai, when both the husband and wife are working, the groom often has to cook. In order for 'cookery' to work properly in the game of the world, there is no escape unless the master becomes a 'cooker'? Seeing this state of the urban householders, even the roosters call in the early hours of the morning, 'Cookre-Cook-Cookre-Cookre-Cook...'
Uncle still completed the sentence and aunt came closer. So uncle stopped talking. Clever aunt immediately understood and said in a loud voice, 'Are you two uncles and nephews talking together? What flower do you think I am?' Uncle nodded his head and said, 'I understand you as a flower... but the flower of Phagan... you are not a single flower but a basket of flowers (talking continuously).'
After listening to the praise, the aunt and uncle walked home laughing, so the uncle said in a funny way, 'How did I convince my daughter by calling her a basket of flowers? Anyone who can turn a talk like me can turn a whirlwind. The one who can talk to the master will live happily ever after.'
I said to my uncle, 'You may follow aunty behind her back, but aunty praises you even in your absence, ho! Yesterday, when you were not at home, when you went to pay the electricity bill, aunt was sitting on the porch singing your song.
Which is full of fun
limb limb
Pathu my love
Plawang...'
Aunty used to sing a song calling you Pyaara Plavang, would you believe it?
Instead of agreeing to listen to me, uncle slapped me hard on the back and scolded, 'Hey stupid aunty, singing and calling me a monkey, do you realize anything? One of the meanings of Plavung is monkey, monkey! Monkey... Monkey... Got it?
I said sorry...sorry, expressing sympathy and exhibiting my ignorance, I said, 'I don't know that 'Plavang' means monkey, otherwise this is 'monkey talk', what else can I say?'
The uncle, who was not bound to read the print, said, 'Brother, in the spelling or translation in the print there are such tricks that one gets entertainment for free by reading it. Someone had translated the tree-cutting in the city. Tree-fall, now whose fall is this called? What kind of uproar would be created if the feminine gender of the fall is made 'wife' without understanding it?'
I echoed my uncle's words and said, 'Do you know what Gujarati did with the think-tank? A think tank...'
Kaka says, 'This seems to be understood, but sometimes fanatical linguists use words like Bhadrambhadra that sometimes you don't understand, and when you do, you can't help but laugh.'
I asked, 'Which word-play did you read that made you laugh?'
Uncle Marimsalo exclaimed, 'Just now an unabashed language lover told me that uncle, if you go to the city market, will you bring me a self-portrait-pulling remote-controlled stick? Hearing Farmaish, my mind went crazy. That is why I asked if self-image puller away - what is the administrative whip, is it true? Then he laughed and said: Selfie-stick!'
end-speech
Q: What is pitta in summer called in Gujreji?
J: Summer-pith.
** ** **
Q: What is wife called in Sanskrit?
A: The wife should not be called anything in any language.
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