A Rose by any other name: On Translations
Language helps express. Or does it challenge you to express?
Consider translating wit, humour, idiomatic expressions or even abuse across languages.
When Hindi-speakers do not understand something they say ‘This is all Arbi Farsi to me’ or in English ‘This is Greek to me’. Now, Arabic and Persian used to wield a lot of clout in the middle ages in India and they still reign in the Middle East; so with Greek and Latin in the Western part of the world.
Indian children often wonder why in the particular English rhyme Johnny urges the rain to ‘ go away’ and why the little child needs the rain to stop in order to play since as for us we thoroughly enjoyed playing in rain -clogged streets were so welcome then! Later, I came to know that in England
The equations have changed. Greek is a dead language now and Arabic, Persian, Urdu and Hindi have succumbed under the twin impact of English and Westernization. In past two decades however, changes in India and Indians have been phenomenal. Our sense of time has come closer to what is called a New York Minute and we have been busy shedding our dialect and our idiom both. Technocrats would tell you India is a passé as much as Bharat for this is an age of globalization. ‘Excuse my French!’ is another way of apologizing for indiscreet or deliberate use of offensive words. Now in this idiom the English have been able to have a take on their rivals. Woe of woes that across India people have abandoned Hindi and adopted English as the lingua franca in its stead. But the worst symptom of hegemony of a foreign language comes across in a phrase like ‘Hindi ho gai’. When someone is insulted or an embarrassing situation precipitates this pejorative phrase is often used. There is another phrase that comes as a corollary to the above- ‘Hindi me samjhaon?’ .Now, this is a warning issued to some pig-headed fellow that kicks and punches will follow where words are not enough. Such use of ‘Hindi’ shows the abysses to which the native language has fallen and the extent of our acceptance of English supremacy.
While cultural gaps such as above perplex an oriental reader; there are others that trouble the occidental reader or translator. Susan Bassnett and Harish Trivedi touch upon it when they discuss William Jones’s translation of the Indian poet Kalidasa’s Shakuntala. They observe that the heroine of the play often breaks into sweat, but since in the translator’s cultural paradigm ladies never ‘sweat’ Jones edits out such references that may appear odious to the English reader(In England horses sweat, men perspire and women glow).
There is an Italian saying ‘traduttore traditore’ the literal rendering in English for which is ‘translator, traitor’ and that hints at the ‘untranslatability’ of the original and even highlights the loss or distortion of meaning in the process or greater still it actually blames the translator rather than just the process of change(See Wikipedia. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Untranslatability )
To illustrate consider the word ‘sahib”. Why do Oriental scholars not replace the exotic ‘sahib’ with plain English ‘Sir’? The word ‘sahib’ is supposed to highlight native servility as opposed to ‘sir’ which is a term of respect that is given as a title merited by excellence. So, in the orientalist discourse while the ‘borrowing’ indicates hierarchy based on racial superiority, the other hints at the merit of a person. The oriental scholar forgets to tell you that ‘sahib’ was a word used by the natives to address people belonging to ‘suvarn’ classes or privileged caste or rich men. There is no especially racist connotation to the term.
A spade is called a spade in some languages and dialects – English and Sanskrit do not allow for such irreverence. The idiolect and irreverence of Haryanvi would lend humour to the flattest piece of writing. It is a zing vernacular. In one of his witty takes Deswal writes, “See you!” can be dangerous in Haryanvi, although it is a farewell note on happy parting. It is nobody’s guess that humour and ‘dare’ would be gained when translating into Haryanvi.
An Indian mother-in-law would outdo any other in the ugliness of her temper. Think of the idiom ‘Gur meetha , ghee cheekna; Bahu ke haath mein ke doon’. Jaggery is sweet, Butter is sticky(slippery(sic)) what could I give to my daughter-in-law? Here the very qualities that make these things desirable make them a taboo gift for the bride. Can a ‘mother-in-law’ ever match up to the stature of the matchless indigenous ‘saas’? I am reminded of the movie ‘monster-in-law’a romantic comedy by Robert Luketic. As with the roses so with the thorns.
It is interesting to note that in olden days the word ‘kod’ was used to denote ‘bribe’. The word ‘kod’ stands for ‘leprosy’ in Hindi. When a person used to take bribe, he was condemned of accepting ‘kod’ a contagious disease of abominable nature. The disease itself was considered incurable and the patient was excommunicated. If today, the word is revived, people may be more ashamed of taking money underhand as ‘rishvat’ does not evoke the same feelings as ‘kod’ does.
A rose by any other name would smell as sweet says Shakespeare-but visit an Indian garden and you will know that the Indian rose is not quite like the English rose- one is subtle and the other intoxicating, a ‘Gulab’ with its wild, heady perfume would smell sweeter. A rose is a rose, is a rose but an English rose is not quite the same as Indian ‘gulab’.
Now, consider the phenomenal song ‘Kolaveri di’ which is something like kitsch in lyrics. The deliberately slang and faulty English and despite the unintelligibility of the southern Indian language the song has become as much a rage in Northern India. From where does the song get its appeal? From the rhythm- the words that best suited the rhythm were used at the right place. But most importantly, English words were modulated to Indian music and had a pronounced South Indian accent.
Hindi is a rich language and has a store of words packed with culture. But it would be foolhardy to advocate a pristine Hindi- Hindi itself being a conglomerate of dialects and languages from Sanskrit to Urdu to Brij and Haryanvi. Translations across cultures ensure life to a language. Certain puns and jokes are enjoyed only by bilingual people. My little kids are described as ‘hil-arious’ by my brother-in-law Jeetender Gupta not just because of their pranks or comic behavior but because they cannot sit still-‘hilte-dolte rehte hain’.
Thanks All!
