I accept it. My language skills are lousy. English was a hard-won addition to Tamil at the age of ten and since then, I haven't managed to retain any other language.
I've learnt, spoken or read at least four other languages in the meanwhile but my German never progressed beyond assorted grunts and my French makes Frenchmen hastily proceed to speak in English. Grebo and pidgin-Kru are by now forgotten and my Hindi is good for nothing more than reading road signs.
Yet, I've always assumed that there were two languages that I would always know. I thought that, like bicycling, fluency in Tamil and English was a life-long acquisition. I could never forget either language. It seems that this belief, like most of my deeply-held convictions, is terribly wrong.
I'm slowly losing my Tamil. The realization struck me very recently when I found that my mother didn't understand what I was saying. I was talking to her in English.
Long ago, I don't know how long ago, I would think in Tamil, put the thought into Tamil words, translate the Tamil into English and come up with incredibly convoluted English sentences. I still come up with convoluted sentences but I can't blame the translation process anymore. A few years ago, I found that I could dispense with translation completely, thinking in English itself.
What struck me during that conversation with my mother was that I was now employing the reverse process -- putting my thought into English words and then translating it into Tamil.
Part of the problem is that my education was completely in English -- this means that the Tamil words for ``repeat-the-class'', ``Bessel-curve-inflections'' and ``extremely-dangerous-voltage'' are not immediately apparent to me. After all, nobody really talks about Fourier transforms over dinner.
Another part of the problem is that I have spent as many years outside India (in Africa and in the U.S.A) as I have in it. There are not too many Tamil-speaking folk on the Sub-Saharan coastline or in the American midwest. Add this to my pathetic linguistic skills and it is a wonder I can still speak the language.
It is at times like these that I envy my Indian friends. Most of them speak three or four languages fluently and manage to get by in a couple more. There was one guy in my dorm who knew 14 languages when I first met him. Two years later, when I graduated, he knew 18.
I asked one of them how he did it. ``Well,'' he told me, ``the trick is to keep using the language.'' ``But who can I talk to?,'' I asked petulantly. He had no answer but I think I do.
From now on, all junk mail that is addressed to me and is not in Tamil will be tossed unread into the garbage bin. I will watch TV programs only if they are in Tamil (PBS programs and Seinfeld are exempt from this rule). Telemarketers who call me will receive a lecture in Tamil on the merits of respecting my privacy.
I will write all thank-you notes and get-well cards in Tamil. I will use that language to order burger-and-fries at McDonald's and to bargain with the used-car dealer. This way, I can be as rude as I want, have a low-fat diet and live a stress-free life.
I will write a letter to a Congressman supporting the English-only policy in schools. He will have to have it translated from Tamil, however. My checks will be written out in Tamil and whoever wants to cash them can figure them out.
I don't know about you but using Tamil seems like a terrific idea to me. You might even want to learn it.
