Language matters

I went to this kitchenware shop today with my mother. We had to buy a new stove. There were two new models displayed of a particular brand. My mother liked both and was confused (as always) so she asked the sales girl her opinion. "Which one do you think is better?". The reply was "Ma'am vaise dono mein se to, both are better." For a moment I was confused too - I thought I hadn't heard her properly. But I realised soon what she meant. She was doing her job. But did she realise what she had just said?

I don't intend to sound snooty, but I can get very pernickety when it comes to these things. How can people not take language seriously? Its not about English or Hindi, its merely about saying it right. I really respect people who speak well, speak correctly - be it English, Hindi, Punjabi, Gujarati, Urdu etc. It doesn't matter. Well spoken words convey much about the speaker.

Its a different matter that when Aamir Khan says "Apna bad luck kharaab hai" one doesn't really mind:)

We learn so much about others
by peeping inside ourselves...

Only, sometimes we refuse to acknowledge it.

Childhood reminds me of...

...of afternoon storytime with ma, lying down on the floor
playing badminton with papa in the evenings
going to school on a bicycle with my sis
annual summer trips to nani's place,
making mud-houses with cousins...

getting 'Poppins' from papa after those painful injections
the monthly pocket-money of Rs. 10
'Chitrahaar' on Wednesdays, and
'Ramayan' and 'Stoneboy' on Sundays...

Kolkata's narrow streets, Newmarket and Esplanade
the monthly trips to second-hand book stalls
tram rides with mum...

Sunday crosswords with papa
the painting classes with my sis (I only drew parrots)
sports day in school, the umbrella drill
teaching ma how to play rummy...

making Christmas cookies at a friend's place
bursting crackers at another's on diwali...