‘Young man, did you went there?'

Syed Badrul Ahsan

There is often a sense of the hilarious when you associate English with a culture that bases itself on a language quite removed from it. Long years ago, a new confectionery had this on its front: Testy Pastry. That was the name of the shop. The owner, who had little way of knowing that there was something wrong with testy, welcomed this scribe into his shop and asked him for his prayers in order for the business to do well. The response he got was simple. The name should be Tasty Pastry, the scribe informed him. Sure enough, a few days later testy had turned into tasty. But pastry? It had mutated into pestry.

Speaking of fronts, good old Khushwant Singh once had the privilege of visiting a newly married couple at their home. On arrival, he noticed that the front of the house had charmingly been laid out. To the pretty young hostess who was equally charmingly dressed in revealing attire, Singh remarked: “It is a beautiful front you have here.” The happy woman trilled, “Wait till you see my backside.” Laughing away, aren't you? But wait till you hear this: on a day long ago, here in this city, a coffee place, undergoing repairs at its entry, proudly held out the notice on the sidewalk, 'Entrance backside.” And yet that is nothing compared to what used to be seen, day in and day out, on a board as you made your way toward the FDC or farther ahead. There, in unashamed manner, was the term 'National Erectors Ltd' spelt out on something of a billboard.

After such knowledge, what forgiveness? But, then again, why speak of forgiveness when the use of a foreign language in your clime gives you cause to indulge in some much needed humour? The editor of a prominent English language daily having to keep an appointment somewhere, quickly wrote his editorial for the next day and left it with the foreman of the reading section. For good measure, he asked the foreman to take care that nothing went wrong. The next day, a beaming foreman enters the editor's office, to tell him that there had been a slight error in the editorial he had left with him the previous day. But, not to worry. The mistake had been taken care of. How so? An alarmed editor looked at the foreman, who told him, “Sir, in your editorial the term 'to and fro' was the error. We corrected it by changing it to 'to and from'.”

There are moments when you cannot but go ballistic at the way you see English being reduced to pretty much of pointlessness in this country. An office employee, having been on French leave for some days, was on his return asked by colleagues if anything had been wrong. The man replied, “I don't know. These days my body how how does.” That prompted another colleague nearby to sneer at this bad use of English. The one at whom he had directed his irritation replied, without batting an eyelid, “Now understand the push.” Now try working out the original Bengali and then see if its English rendering meets your expectations or gives you reason for celebration. Celebration of what? Simple. Of human ingenuity. When a distinguished woman from abroad comes to your country, consider the ruckus that will be caused if someone welcomes her with the words, “Welcome to Bangladesh, madam. How is your body?” Doubling up in laughter? Do, by all means, but know that such an instance has indeed occurred. Worse has happened. A foreign diplomat, a woman at that, keeping an appointment with a senior Bangladeshi bureaucrat, is cheerfully received by the latter's assistant, who in the course of welcoming her informs her that his boss will see her presently. Meanwhile, says he with an ingratiating smile, 'please sit properly, madam.' You can imagine the utter confusion the lady is thrown into. She finds herself a corner where she can make herself unobtrusive, and goes on tugging at her skirt. She has to sit properly, doesn't she? Not until the bureaucrat emerges from his room is the confusion cleared, the assistant taking a bit of a thorough rebuke in the process.

But why must we keep pointing the finger at people over their use of English when we in the newspaper industry are equally guilty of similar misdeeds, of similar mangling of the language? All too often, we come across news items which speak of the Awami League government having taken 'the office' following the elections of December 2008. The difference between taking 'the office' and taking 'office' is very easily, almost cheerfully lost. Again, much chaos is generated when it comes to dealing with popular sentiments on particular issues. We fall into something of a pit when we are not quite clear whether it is 'people' or 'the people' we happen to be speaking about. And then there are those who are somehow always keen on 'discussing about' issues of public interest. And you can forgive those journalists who quite often find themselves in a quandary with their use of English. Pure, stark poverty manifests itself when a stringer in a small district town concludes his report through a display of his exasperation over English and simply resorts to a pretty novel use of a mixture of Bengali and English. Observe the flourish with which he ends his report: 'Finally, the malik-bihin mohish was found by the polish.'

Not long ago, a few newspaper employees, aggrieved by the fact that a senior colleague of theirs had not been getting the kind of financial benefits which come with a demonstration of diligence to the profession, approached their editor with an appeal for corrective action. On being advised by the editor to submit a written letter to him, they quickly made out the case for their colleague in black and white and handed it over to the editor. A grinning editor then summoned all of them to his office the next day, to tell them that they had themselves spoiled the case for their co-worker. And how did they do that? Watch the language in the letter: 'Dear Sir, our colleague, Mr. …. …, should be given an increment because he hardly works.'

And that was it. But, wait! Have you ever read a report where 'the judge was hanged by the criminal'? Where a sub-editor, in a rare display of ingenuity, changes the word 'chef' to 'chief' because he thinks there is something wrong with the spelling? Where a head of government asks her people to 'flourish the nation's culture'?

Tired? My apologies, but listen to this before you doze off. A lawyer in these parts once asked an accused in court: 'Young man, did you went there?” The accused, happy at having found a chance to expose the lawyer's use of terrible English, responded loudly: “Sir, I don't follow.” The lawyer repeated his question, louder than before and so making his command over English clear before those assembled in the room. The young man, sly and with that sinister twinkle in his eyes, replied equally loudly: “Yes, Sir, I wented there but did I not finded anyone there.”

Good day, ladies and gentlemen!

The writer is Executive Editor, The Daily Star.

 

 

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