MUMBAI: The only time Suman Chhabria-Addepali speaks to her child in Sindhi, her mother tongue, is while playing ‘Gil go ladi’, a game she learnt on her mother’s lap.
She considers English to be her first language. This 27-year-old Sindhi, who is married to a Telugu-speaking management consultant, says, “I can’t speak Telugu and my husband can’t speak Sindhi.
So, by default, we speak English with our child and at home.’’
In urban settings where intercaste marriages are common and spouses are not conversant with each other’s mother tongues, this is obviously a common practice.
But there is another reason—a societal necessity as such—for the ‘English-at-home-too’ syndrome. “Exposing the child to English early gives her a headstart in life,’’ believes Ms Chhabria-Addepalli. Her views are echoed by many parents in the city.
Hence, last week, when the state decided to stop teaching seven optional Indian languages after March 2005, there were few voices of dissent. Only residents of Dharavi and the International Sindhi Forum( both Tamil and Sindhi will not be offered in English-medium schools from next year), spoke against it.
The protesters have a valid reason. Says Bharathi Shankar, principal of SIES school that offers Tamil, the overall score of Dharavi kids, who are largely Tamil speaking, improved because of their language paper.
The Sindhi Forum president R.T. Rohra laments that Sindhis do not have a separate homeland and now even the language will not be offered in schools.
The state government claims that there are not enough takers for mother tongues. English is an essential ingredient of “good parenting’’, or so believe New Age parents. They also believe that it is important for their children to be proficient in English to do well academically and later professionally.
“Children who do not speak English at home never catch up in school with other children from Englishspeaking households,’’ says a mother, who does not speak to her child in her mother tongue, Dogri, spoken in Kashmir.
Practices in several schools have contributed to this belief. Schools prefer giving admissions to children of Englishspeaking parents. “This is, in fact, an important criterion considered during admissions,’’ says Gool Ghadiali, principal of New Era High School at Gowalia Tank. Former veejay and actor Ruby Bhatia, who was brought up in Canada where her father insisted on speakingHindi at home, feels Indians should move with the world and should not have any aversion to English.
School principals admit that non-English speaking parents are under pressure to learn the language and many mothers have even joined Englishspeaking courses offered at the various institutes across the city.
Some middle-aged Gujarati grandmoms have also enrolled in these classes to speak with their grandchildren in English when they babysit them, says Govind Saraiya of the English Institute, that runs classes in Mahim and Vile Parle. But not all parents can afford such English-speaking courses.
Kantabai, a Marathi-speaking domestic servant, spends Rs 400 from her monthly earning of Rs 1,100 on her son’s English tuitions. Her son still performs poorly at school, but she has not gone to meet his class teacher to discuss the same. Her reason? She cannot speak in English.
To help such parents, the PTA United Forumalong with the Counsellors Association of India launched a move, ‘First Generation’, last month to encourage them to speak in their mother tongues when they meet teachers and principals to discuss their children’s progress.