This morning I tried to ask the maid if she needed me to move as she was sweeping the room. As I have done in Bangkok, Santo Domingo, and Marseille, I used Google Translate to do the communicating for me. Selecting Hindi as the language, I typed in “Do you need me to move?”
When I showed her the question, she looked desperately confused. She called her mistress in to help. As it turns out, the Hindi language Google Translate uses is what they call “pure” Hindi – which contains some Sanskrit – and most Indians do not understand it. Even Geeta had to go back to the English to understand what it was I was asking.
She explained that only pandits and temple priests learn this form of the language, because it is so difficult. Instead, there is a more simplified version of Hindi that most people speak (which also varies from east to west India). If that weren’t enough complexity, each state also has its own dialect specific people who live there. Here in Maharashtra, the local language is Marathi. In Gujarat, they speak Gujarati, etc.
I can guarantee I’m oversimplifying this explanation, because this is literally the first I’m hearing of it, but it gives you an idea of the depth of the language and the breadth of its ability to morph to local needs and uses across the subcontinent.
This morphology can cause problems in interstate marriages because when a bride moves into her husband’s house, her new inlaws are likely to speak a dialect that is completely alien to her. She will have no idea what they are saying to or about her, and that can be dangerous when you are dependent upon their goodwill for your survival.
When I googled the translation of my question into Marathi, I was struck by just how different the two sentences are. No wonder no one knew what I was trying to say!
India continues to prove herself to be as multi-faceted and diverse as every writer and philosopher has ever said it is: each petal of the lotus revealing still more nuance.