Hindustani Awaaz: Literature, Culture and Society: I am a Guest of Allah

Hindustani Awaaz: Literature, Culture and Society: I am a Guest of Allah

TEACHING OF ENGLISH IN INDIA

Khaliqur Rahman

I submitted a blog on The Teaching of English in India to British Council at: http://www.teachingenglish.org.uk/ on 3 February, 2011. It is still there amongst other blogs of mine and I’ve received feedback comments. One of them is:

I like the distinction between a foreign language student and second language student. My first job involves teaching English as a second language to Hispanic immigrants in Texas, and this point of view is a good thing to keep in mind: "a second language student is socio-economically under tremendous pressure to learn the language" I'm sure the people I'll be teaching are under such pressure. This article has been very helpful to me in understanding that. Thanks, Roxie

I thought, it’d be better if I shared this with Readers, particularly teachers of English in Chhatisgarh, at least.

Have you ever thought about the difference that is there in India between an MA in English and an MA in any of the languages like French, German or Arabic? I’ll tell you, English in India carries the burden of Second Language while all the languages cited above have the status of a Foreign Language. A foreign language student is personally interested in the language and is highly motivated, whereas a second language student is socio-economically under tremendous pressure to learn the language, in the hope of getting a job and earning a livelihood. A second language student thus finds himself or herself in a don’t-want-to-but-have-to situation. Therefore, when a student seeks admission to a Master’s course in a Foreign Language, the student’s language proficiency level is much higher than that of a student in India who wants to do MA in English which is a Second Language for him or her.

During the MA in English course, the student is exposed to the works of authors like Chaucer, Shakespeare, Milton, Dryden, Pope, Shelly, Keats, Wordsworth, Coleridge … Eliot …  just to name a few of the many in the Syllabus. The teachers and the students lug information, like Coolies, without ever bothering what the contents are or mean! You have MAs in English Literature in lakhs every year, and MPhils and PhDs in thousands! But can they teach English language which they are asked to do at universities and colleges and schools? The answer is a big NO!

The UGC is a funny oceanic quagmire. Look at the syllabus for NET (National Eligibility Test) that qualifies one to teach English. They start with Beowulf! Leave alone Chaucer!! Now, how can the blessed Englishes (this expression is pretty much acceptable nowadays and it refers to the different varieties of English) of these writers, or for that matter, of even Dickens and Hardy, help today’s teacher to teach contemporary English? If they can’t, you just can’t blame them because they have never been taught nor trained to teach English language.

I once talked to the Chairman of the NCERT while the big shot (in a small barrel) was here for a blessed exercise in futility which they call a seminar (without anything seminal in it) and suggested introduction of MA in English Language or MA in English Language Teaching instead of MA in English Literature. His response? “How can you bypass Oliver Twist’s ‘I want some more!’ and give a Master’s Degree?” I bypassed him for the rest of the seminar!

My humble suggestion is: Treat English as a Foreign Language when it comes to giving a degree in English Literature. And, allow only MAs in English Language or in English Language Teaching to teach English as a Second Language.

The teachers of English should possess a high level of language proficiency. They should also have an up-dated knowledge of Materials Production (text-book writing and all), Testing & Evaluation and current trends in ELT (English Language Teaching), contemporary descriptive grammar and modern Linguistics & Sociolinguistics.

MAA’NGO MANGO MORE

Khaliqur Rahman

I am completely overwhelmed, completely bowled over, as I relish ... and relish... fondling long the varied tastes of mangoes. I wonder how such different delightful tastes in inexplicable attractive shapes and sizes, colours and textures develop from the same mother-earth to gift man with the only option of enjoying to the full the exquisiteness of those succulent slurps.

Any other fruit, say oranges or bananas or apples, will taste the same and look the same. But not mangoes! And, I think you can eat mangoes in many more ways than you can eat any other fruit.

Tukhmi aams (the mango tree grows out of sowing seeds), smaller in size but jucier than kalmi aams (the mango tree grows after grafting) are best softened and sucked. But I’ve enormously enjoyed sucking over ripe and softer dusseries and baingan pallis and langras and chausas, as well. Otherwise, more civilized and sophisticated way of eating these kalmi varieties is to peel them off with a knife and then either slice them or chop them into pieces to be then eaten with spoons or fruit-forks. I find them better when they’re sliced with the skin intact. Now I can eat as many slices as I can digest and can raze the skin as close as possible with my teeth so that no flesh goes awaste. I don’t think, I’ve had opportunities to taste every variety of this wonderful fruit but I am happy to have grabbed the varieties made available at places I’ve lived. The only variety I haven’t had the courage to go for was the Brazilian mango while I was in Edinburgh. I got intimidated by the enormity of its size, extreme ugliness in its shape and brutality in the colour and texture of its skin. I feared I’d be done in if I took it and then ate it. But I went for dusseries there. They were simply fantastic. They told me they were from Punjab in Pakistan.

I remember from my childhood days, summer time and mango season, my Khala’s Saas (mother- in-law of my mother’s sister), who we affectionately called Dadi. At night, she used to keep a small bucket filled with water by the side of her bed with a lantern and a stick as she pretended to go to sleep at the far end of the aa’ngan (courtyard), nearest to the tall tukhmi aam ka darakht (mango tree). I’m sure, she fought against sleep to wait for all the others to fall asleep and still wait for the sound of a ‘tup’ as a mango dropped. Then she would take the stick in one hand and the lantern in another and look for the mango on the ground. She would pick the fruit, come back, put the ‘pick’ in the bucket and pretend to sleep one more time. Another ‘tup’, another round! When four or five mangoes were collected thus in the bucket, she’d sit on the charpoy with her feet down on the ground and slurp. That’s the way to eat a mango!

I also remember those lovely days when our grandmother (Nani) bought raw mangoes in hundreds and put them to ripen, under a pile of paddy, in the room at the back, normally used for keeping logs of wood, used in cooking. Grand idea struck, and we, children, decided to steal the ripe ones. We sneaked into the lakdi ki kholi while the ‘house’ was asleep in the afternoon. But how we were caught while walking through Nani’s room! The fruits dropped from the other end of our pyjamas!

Maa’ngo, maa’ngo, more mango maa’ngo!