Learn-English Saga

I started formal English in grade 4 as did the kids of public schools at that time. But, since my father knew English, perhaps more of it than my school teachers, the fundamentals like alphabets, ‘What is your name?’, ‘How are you?’ and ‘Where do you live?’ and a lot more were already in my tongue when they put a thick pictured English text book on my hand in grade 4.

I don’t remember reading English with as much zeal as the stories and verses from Nepali, Sanskrit and Moral Science books. It was one scanty thing of the many other subjects I did in Nepali, and came to my notice only before and during examinations. In grade 6, a new English teacher made us do a lot of reading and writing from the English text book. I got some sense of learning then. But this enthusiastic  man did not come to us in grade 7, and English again went to the margin. Then in grade 8, we had a ‘real’ English teacher, who put the text book aside for a few weeks to teach us the basics of grammar which, for me, formed a strong groundwork for future pursuits in English. So, towards the end of schooling, I could write essays and converse in English — all due to knowledge of grammar rules and intuition but limited opportunity for real time practices.

In the gap between the School Leaving Certificate results and joining the college, most of my English went into disuse. I took to working in the farm with father, cattle grazing, and loitering around with village louts. Even most of my formal Nepali turned slightly rustic. When I turned over the first lessons of the college text books later, which were in English except for the compulsory Nepali, I realized it was like diving into deep, rough waters without the slightest knowledge of swimming. Fortunately, the college English teachers, especially those who taught major English, succeeded in instilling some zeal for reading and writing English.

In the Intermediate level I shared a room with two different types of friends. The first had this habit of listing down all new words from the lessons and asking me to write meanings of whatever I knew. In this course, I would be tempted to look up the dictionary for other unfamiliar words also. While helping my roommate I helped myself. When this friend left me for a more spacious location later, another one proposed to stay with me for some time. And he happened to be a great learner. We started reading novels and stories together. We made it a point to communicate in English most of the times, to write about the texts and to show the writings to each other compulsorily. This was the real beginning.We taught ourselves a lot, or, in fact, time had brought us together to become life-long admirers of each other.

My first public speech in English involved a summary of Hemingway’s novel The Old Man and the Sea in the first year of my Intermediate studies. The English teacher had invited anyone of the class to volunteer to speak on the novel. I had happened to read it with much  liking just the night before, and decided to try. Unexpectedly, it went smooth. I could use many words that I never knew I had learned, and sentences I had never consciously constructed. Though it was not new for the class because I was one of the ‘noticeable’ in the batch, it was new for me for its being the first formal speech to nearly a hundred curious people.

That I was studying English was something worthy of mention back in the village. The class-topper in the school throughout the classes, and one of the three first division holders by then (by 1990), I already had a prestige of a sort. With ‘major English’ added, I was regarded a young intellectual, which meant maintaining, or sometimes feigning, some mature postures in the presence of neighbours and relatives, and showing some degree of responsibility at home. Though I had opted to study science in the offing and had to choose the arts due to domestic limitations, English never allowed me to feel any sense of deprivation.

But would anyone’s knack in the communication in English cause a violent dispute between families of two different castes? Hardly anyone imagines it would. But I have an interesting story to share. It is about how my momentary appearance at a place led to fights and subsequent arrest of two of my neighbours.

To begin with, let us know these two interesting characters. The first was a Brahmin lad, one of my distant cousins, only four months older than I. He was my junior at school and had never passed the send-up test. A ‘highly literate’ village lad with ample knowledge of pranks and quarrels. The second was a mongoloid (a Limbu), an early school drop-out. He had managed to work in Saudi Arabia for a couple of years, and had returned with some money, few modern gadgets and, above all, bits of ‘broken’ English. This was enough for him to walk on high heels among his half-literate villagers.

My cousin and this man had sufficient time and reasons to be together all day long. The former did not work: the latter did not have (to) work. The former had failed in send-up and therefore was more educated: the latter, though a grade-five quitter, had had international exposure and English and was more experienced. One had enough reason to bully the other at times.The Saudi returnee reportedly boasted a lot about his English. The cousin had had enough of this. I had never known or bothered to know this, though. Both of them were very good to me in our rare meetings, rare because I was out to the city while they lingered in the village.

One afternoon I happened to arrive the Chowk near my house at such moment while these two were disputing over the standard and authenticity of the Saudi returnee’s English. I was about to walk past them when my cousin summoned from a distance to join them. I went thinking that it would be rude not to. But he did not have any agenda but to challenge his opponent to talk with me in English. I had no reason to stop. I headed home leaving them there.

I heard what had followed only later because I left home early the following day.

The Arabe was literally enraged for having been put in a contest with me, and had punched my cousin. What’s more, the latter had done his part and gone home to gather seven of his siblings and parents for a regiment in revenge. The Brahmin family had overpowered the molester with such consequence that he, after exhibiting equal strength of ‘human resources,’  had rushed with certain bruises and scratches to the police station to claim justice. The avengers had also followed suit by reporting a mortifying assault. Finally, the police had taken both of them, called their relatives and mediated for a truce. It had taken both sides about a week to be able to stop thinking that further attacks would not be made !

My elder brother later joked that it was all because of my English.

Sounds hyperbolic? But it is as real as I am.

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