It’s not often that when two things are labeled as equally wonderful, everyone gets pissed. Here’s one such example. It’s called Hindi vs Urdu, otherwise known as being unable to see the forest for the trees.
A Word on Language
Language, it turns out, is about more than simply being able to communicate. It carries with it history, culture, and deep-rooted identities. In other words, to question one’s language is to question one’s existence.
At least that’s one take.
The other is to just accept that we’re making random noises to which we attach meaning. In fact, when we don’t understand the meaning, we tend to ridicule the noise.
Whichever camp you’re in, it’s safe to say that if two languages have the same random sounds, this discussion is moot. And that gets us to the Hindi vs Urdu thing.
Extremely Brief History
We’ll stick to the story told by the linguist Gaston Dorren in Babel, because, quite frankly, the ones told by parents and politicians are not as trustworthy.
The Indo-European language family, which contains Hindi-Urdu, was born thousands of years ago near the Ukrainian steppe or Asian Turkey, spreading far and wide, including down into modern-day Pakistan-India. There, after mixing with whatever was already there, innumerable variations (dialects and languages) arose, with a deliberately standardized version of the vernaculars being known as Sanskrit.
Fast forward to the Common Era, and much as occurred with Latin, Sanskrit-related dialects slowly took on lives of their own.
Enter Hindi-Urdu. Of course, the evolution didn’t end there, as the Islam that found its way to the subcontinent brought with it the Persian language, itself infused with Arabic and Turkic elements. Needless to say, Hindi-Urdu was influenced by the new vocabulary.
Humans being humans, the seeds were sown for a linguistic rift. On one side were elites of one group infusing the language with select Persian words, promoting a literary tradition which happened to be recorded in a Perso-Arabic script. On the other side were elites of another group, intent on ridding the language of such intruders, replacing them with words from their highfalutin language of choice—Sanskrit—and recording the product in the Devanagari script.
By the time the Brits showed up, the idea of two-ness was of sufficient duration to result in written materials being created in two different scripts. As illiteracy was rampant, the initial impact was limited, but as the Hindu-Muslim conflict gained steam in the 19th century, language—and the language police—came along for the ride.
By the time of independence and Partition in 1947, the divorce was finalized.
Present Day
Today, what is known as Urdu is an official language of Pakistan. It is written, as above, in a Perso-Arabic script and read from right to left. Hindi, on the other hand, is an official language of India, written in the aforementioned Devanagari script and read from left to right.
Thanks to the Brits, both languages have been inundated with the world’s lingua franca—English. And in the internet era, it’s common to see both written using the Roman alphabet, making them look…the same.
As far as the spoken languages go, it is nearly impossible to know if an ordinary conversation is in Hindi or Urdu. Many in both countries actually learn Hindi-Urdu as a second language, guided by whatever it is that is spoken in Bollywood films. And song lyrics are apparently in the language they’re stated to be in.
The bottom line: Hindi vs Urdu = Hirdu or Undi. Just don’t tell the language police.
2 Responses
as you have alluded , it is identity, identity, identity.
One world, one humanity, one(or no) religion is only a dream of few.
Well said. I would add, however, that the one world/one humanity stance is not so much a dream but a reaction against those who are unable to keep the importance of their identity in perspective.