On the path to extinction
After what seems to me an eternity, my room is eventually getting a much-needed splash of colour. Yes, THE WALLS IN MY ROOM ARE GETTING PAINTED!!!
The work was scheduled to be completed in a month's time and I had to empty my entire room into cardboard cartons and live with my grandparents during the month of April. However, now that we are in the penultimate stages of the venture, I have moved back into my natural habitat.Unfortunately, huge piles of books, clothes, keychains, stationery and odd little articles which I have no recollection of purchasing are stacked menacingly all around me.
Now, when life thrusts such herculean challenges in your face, there are two possible solutions - the first is the sensible one where you get things into place little by little, everyday. As far as most of us are concerned, this is 'the road not taken'. The other, more appealing solution is to leave things at status quo, pretend like the enormity of the task is insignificant and channelise your energy into more productive activities such as sleeping, eating and writing. Moving on.......
Man truly evolved into a species markedly different from our evolutionary predecessors (the monkeys and apes) when the idea of language was conceived. The ability to communicate thoughts and emotions is so fundamental that rarely contemplate how life would be, in its absence.
Language not only facilitates exchange of ideas with our contemporaries but also opens doors to an interaction with our past. It serves as a medium through which we can hope to communicate with posterity, even long after our deaths. This is obviously why historians have more accurate insights into the eras that followed the invention of language, as opposed to the times when man and beast roamed the earth as creatures of the wild.
When language evolved from rudimentary icons to crude drawings into systematised notions such as grammar and vocabulary, it became evidence of civilisational sophistication. We know the ancient Greeks were a thriving race from analysis of Greek and Latin literature that have stood the test of time. Sanskrit is another language that has withstood this test, surpassing Greek and Latin in that it is neither extinct nor obsolete.
My first tryst with this language is a memory of my maternal grandfather poring over an ancient-looking book, in preparation for a scholarly examination of some sort. There had to be SOMETHING special about Sanskrit if it could make a sixty year-old man study it with so much passion! Regardless, years passed and when it was time for me to enter middle school, I opted to study Sanskrit as my second language.
As far as many of my friends are concerned, Sanskrit is nothing more than a redundant subject that only offers tremendous scope to score high marks. For me, however, this has never been the case. To my left-brained mind, the language had and continues to have, an irresistible appeal and for about two semesters, my grandfather helped me out. His sudden and unforeseen death tossed me into the sea which the popular idiom claims we get lost in. In such circumstances, it was decided that I could get help from a Sanskrit scholar who used to teach my sister and me a few shlokas from time to time. Thankfully, I did not attend any abomination masquerading under the banner of a 'Sanskrit tuition class'.
And it is to this gentleman that I owe my passion for Sanskrit to. His exhaustive knowledge, mastery over the language and his ability to think at par with my mind astounded me. Not only has he never belittled or dismissed even the most ridiculous of my queries, but has also given me answers so conclusive and comprehensive that I have never felt the need to reiterate or repeat my question . And this, in no disrespectful terms, is something I have never experienced with any teacher. In the process, I came to enjoy the language in all its lyrical and aesthetic beauty.
Unfortunately, my perspective puts me in the minority. Although I claimed boldly a few paragraphs before that Sanskrit isn't extinct, its existence is threatened. However, if a language is able to survive Islamic invasions and British conquests and even earn the reverence of non-native speakers, I don't think we should fuss an awful lot about making the effort to preserve it. After all, doesn't the language that keeps us tethered to our past deserve a future of its own?
Man truly evolved into a species markedly different from our evolutionary predecessors (the monkeys and apes) when the idea of language was conceived. The ability to communicate thoughts and emotions is so fundamental that rarely contemplate how life would be, in its absence.
Language not only facilitates exchange of ideas with our contemporaries but also opens doors to an interaction with our past. It serves as a medium through which we can hope to communicate with posterity, even long after our deaths. This is obviously why historians have more accurate insights into the eras that followed the invention of language, as opposed to the times when man and beast roamed the earth as creatures of the wild.
When language evolved from rudimentary icons to crude drawings into systematised notions such as grammar and vocabulary, it became evidence of civilisational sophistication. We know the ancient Greeks were a thriving race from analysis of Greek and Latin literature that have stood the test of time. Sanskrit is another language that has withstood this test, surpassing Greek and Latin in that it is neither extinct nor obsolete.
My first tryst with this language is a memory of my maternal grandfather poring over an ancient-looking book, in preparation for a scholarly examination of some sort. There had to be SOMETHING special about Sanskrit if it could make a sixty year-old man study it with so much passion! Regardless, years passed and when it was time for me to enter middle school, I opted to study Sanskrit as my second language.
As far as many of my friends are concerned, Sanskrit is nothing more than a redundant subject that only offers tremendous scope to score high marks. For me, however, this has never been the case. To my left-brained mind, the language had and continues to have, an irresistible appeal and for about two semesters, my grandfather helped me out. His sudden and unforeseen death tossed me into the sea which the popular idiom claims we get lost in. In such circumstances, it was decided that I could get help from a Sanskrit scholar who used to teach my sister and me a few shlokas from time to time. Thankfully, I did not attend any abomination masquerading under the banner of a 'Sanskrit tuition class'.
And it is to this gentleman that I owe my passion for Sanskrit to. His exhaustive knowledge, mastery over the language and his ability to think at par with my mind astounded me. Not only has he never belittled or dismissed even the most ridiculous of my queries, but has also given me answers so conclusive and comprehensive that I have never felt the need to reiterate or repeat my question . And this, in no disrespectful terms, is something I have never experienced with any teacher. In the process, I came to enjoy the language in all its lyrical and aesthetic beauty.
Unfortunately, my perspective puts me in the minority. Although I claimed boldly a few paragraphs before that Sanskrit isn't extinct, its existence is threatened. However, if a language is able to survive Islamic invasions and British conquests and even earn the reverence of non-native speakers, I don't think we should fuss an awful lot about making the effort to preserve it. After all, doesn't the language that keeps us tethered to our past deserve a future of its own?
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