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| Sunday, 14 July 2002 |
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The strange sweet revenge by PADMA EDIRISINGHE During a short stay in the States, I had access to my host's library.
Her American citizenship was no bar to her pouring vituperations against
the early pioneers of America, especially the ones who lived One would say that the slave-drivers were simply being very far - seeing and were giving a good introductory exposure to the labouring masses to a language slowly working its way up to end the global language. But the real aim according to the books was to prevent the slaves from communicating with each other and breaking into rebellion since the over - exploitation was of such astounding proportions. A taboo of such a nature to talk in one's own language existed in Lanka in the heyday of British imperialism in the more prestigious schools where English was the medium of instruction. A till was placed on the tables where fines had to be put in by those who violated the taboo. This disparaging attitude to Sinhala, one would think made its exist with the grant of Lanka's independence in 1948. But no, it just goes on in various ways. A few years back I gifted a children's magazine to a neighbour's child. Soon the mother came running to me with the mag, almost a volcano of anger. "Why did you give that book to my son? If my husband sees that he will flare up." "Why? That is not a pornography mag." "That would have been better for him. The thing is in Sinhala. He says it is almost an obsolete language. He wants them to read only English books." "Heavens. Isn't he a Bandara and doesn't he hail from the hills?" "He hails from the hill country alright," said the woman laughing grimly. "But that is his attitude which ofcourse I do not condone but to preserve family harmony I fall in line." I could see her point. Women's lit only a lip service. "Shall I sit? I want to let you into a family secret that may interest you." "Go on." "He is not only a Bandara but is closely connected to SO and SO who was beheaded by the British." "So he is taking his revenge by getting his kids only to talk and read in the language of those who killed his ancestor?" "Yes." "Shall I tell you something more?" "Go on," I said. It was a rainy day and it was a nice pastime to listen to strange stories, woven around language issues. "Even the widow of this decapitated chieftain, according to stories circulating in my husband's family, that may or may not be true, has had her revenge in a very strange way. Since she had been left with only a son, she had written to the British governor requesting that to compensate for the family's agony, her son should be given an English education. The governor had acceded and accordingly the fatherless child had been boarded at Kotte CMS, the only school giving an English education at this time." Kotte CMS, now Sri Jayawardenapura Maha Vidyalaya, is perhaps the oldest missionary school in the island, for it had Portuguese beginnings, and was the first Iskole (Portuguese word) put up. The place began to be called Bangalawa and the junction leading to it is today too known as Bangala Handiya. "Go on," I said all ears. "But the poor boy had no inclination for an English education. He developed a nostalgia for the native mountains and for his mother's company, and wrote poems to her in lilting Sinhala to take him home." "No" wrote the mother. "You stay there. Learn English and be a famous and important man one day." But never did the little Bandara reach for the stars. He languished in the strange environments of a Christian boarding house, utterly alien to him, losing the company of his mother too immediately after the death of his father, developed a fever and went down to a watery grave. This form of taking sweet revenge in the most strange ways seems to run in the family. Incidentally this is one of the tragic aspects of forcing languages down one's throat even if they are unpalatable to the recipient. |
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in the
cotton-growing Southern states that made their own Eldarado before the
American civil war. Her library books were mostly around the atrocities
committed by these cotton-growers on the slaves brought over from Africa
for work on the plantations. One of these atrocities was a taboo on
talking their own native language and a strict order to talk only in the
stray words picked from the language of masters.
