In regard to the difference between a language and a dialect, I have stated that a language depends upon eight conditions, and of those eight, four were discussed. That leaves four more. They are: literature, intonation, psycho-acoustic and inferential acoustic notes, and syntax. The first of these to be discussed today will be literature.

Literature: A language must have its own literature in order to be a separate language. The English word “literature” comes from the Latin word liter which means “brick”. Long ago, before the advent of printing, separate letters used to be moulded from clay which was then fired like a brick. Just as companies stamp their name on their bricks when they are fired, alpha, beta, gamma, delta, omega, theta and other letters were fired like bricks, much like other work with fired clay. The handicraft that uses fired clay is called “terracotta” in English. The terracotta industry originated in Bankura District’s Vishnupur. In this kind of industry the clay is first moulded and then fired. Then it is pasted in the temple with a mixture of lime and sugar. The handicraft of Vishnupur was copied by other places and so the industry spread.

I was saying that these letters were fired like bricks and for that reason they were called liter in Latin. This is the origin of the English word “later”. When clay is fired it turns reddish, thus reddish soil is called “laterite soil”. Since the soil of Rarh is quite reddish it is called the “land of laterite soil” or ráuṋgámát́ir desh.

Anyhow, the art that rose up on the basis of these letters is called “literature” in English.

It should be mentioned that what is called sáhitya is not identical or does not convey the same significance as the English word “literature”. There is a night and day difference between the two. Literature refers to that art form which is based on letters while sáhitya is something altogether different. Simply being an art form based on letters does not qualify something to be called sáhitya. For it to be sáhitya it must imbibe the thought of welfare. Sáhitya means hitena saha [with welfare]. In other words, if a piece of literature is not motivated by the thought of welfare then it cannot be classified as sáhitya. For this reason the scope of literature is vaster than the scope of sáhitya. Something which is created from language but which is not motivated by the thought of welfare may be considered to be literature but it cannot be considered to be sáhitya. In simple terms, all sáhitya is literature but not all literature is sáhitya. It is a common error to consider the English word “literature” to be the equivalent of sáhitya.

Those compositions which we call apasáhitya come within the scope of literature but since they are not motivated by the thought of welfare they do not deserve to be called sáhitya. Amongst English writers we find in Shakespeare an unprecedented fusion of literature and sáhitya. Now in Keat’s compositions do we find as much sáhitya as we do literature? This is something for the scholars to decide. In Scott as well, how much of each one finds is something to think about. Kipling’s compositions are more literature than sáhitya. In Milton’s compositions we find pure sáhitya, although there is some literary value as well. There is a great sáhityik quality in the works of George Bernard Shaw.

However dazzling pure literature may be, it is transitory and cannot be called sáhitya. Satyendranath Datta was a magician with metre. His works have more literary value than sáhityik value. On the other hand, Rabindranath Tagore’s compositions demonstrate an unprecedented blending of literature and sáhitya. Valmiki’s Rámáyańa has sáhityik value but not as much literary value. His language is also not that developed. On the other hand, Vyasdeva’s Mahábhárata is almost cent per cent sáhitya but it has, by comparison, more literary value than the Rámáyańa. Kalidas’s works have tremendous literary value but not as much sáhityik value.

Thus it should be borne in mind every step of the way that literature and sáhitya are not one and the same. No composition can be called sáhitya if it is not motivated by the thought of welfare and from an erudite standpoint it must, perforce, be rejected. However as literature it certainly remains meaningful and valuable.

Wordsworth’s compositions do not have that much literary value but they have great sáhityik value. Romain Rolland’s works have profound sáhityik value, very lofty, but while their literary value cannot be sneezed at, they are not that wonderful.

Thus, whenever judging the compositions of a poet or a writer, rather than using the touchstone of the era or the environment, I would test them by using a measuring rod that will stand the test of time.

The Sanskrit synonym for the English word “letter” is akśara. Akśara means “that which is not kśara [perishable]” or “that which does not undergo destruction, which does not decay”. In other words, that which is and will remain as it has been. Conversely, whatever is perishable or subject to decay will one day come to an end. In one verse of the Yajurveda it is said:

Kśaraḿ pradhánamamrtákśaraḿ harah
Kśarátmaná viishate deva ekah

[Prakrti is ever-waning and Puruśa is changeless and immortal. The Supreme Entity controls both Prakrti and Puruśa.]

It means that that which is born from prakrti is perishable and will gradually decay and come to an end, but that which is imperishable is eternal; it will never be destroyed. Whatever sound has been produced on this earth, whatever song has been sung, will continue to reverberate in the cosmic hub for infinite time. It has no end. No one will be able to check it. Therefore the first idea of humanism is that people must be allowed to speak freely. Unfortunately nowadays those anti-Neohumanistic theories which give indulgence to dogma are flourishing and thereby depriving people of their fundamental right of free speech. They are not fulfilling the first condition of human expression. This is a great tragedy.

There are fifty letters in Sanskrit beginning with a and ending with kśa. Since they are held together like a garland they are collectively called the akśamálá, the garland of letters. Because this garland of letters is held together in this universe on the breast of Parama Puruśa through the dance of Paramá Prakrti, it is also called in philosophical language the rudrákśa. In the Atharvaveda one finds Bhadrakálii [manifestation of the primordial force] holding the fifty letters [they are depicted as skulls]. She has forty-nine around her neck and one in her hand. Actually this is not the case. This conception reflects the ignorance of the common people. It is, in fact, the garland of letters. In former times people did not know how to write letters. Written letters had yet to be invented. Thus they tried to indicate them by drawing the mouth.

I said earlier that that which is created based on bháva is called sáhitya, thus it is incorrect to teach small children that literature is called sáhitya or that the English synonym for sáhitya is literature. It is much better to admit ignorance in this case.

Now, no one can claim that what you call sáhitya or what you call literature must be written down. If something had to be written to be considered sáhitya then that would have eliminated the Rgveda and the Yajurveda from the list because in those days there was no written script. Pupils used to memorize what their masters said, thus another name for the Vedas is Shruti, that is, “that which is learnt by hearing”. Thus sáhitya does not in any way mean that something has to be written down. Sáhitya can be oral as well, and the Vedas are an example of this.

For a long time people’s minds were bound by the demons of superstition whenever any work was or was not done. Hence we see that even after the invention of written script people did not write down the Vedas and other scriptures. They believed that since their forefathers had not written down the Vedas then it would have been unjust and undesirable for them to write them down. Actually they conveniently forgot that written script had not been invented at that time. It was only later on, when the Kashmir pandits of northwest India began to write in Sáradá script that they realized the impossibility of committing the four Vedas to memory. Not only that, out of the 108 extant parts of the Vedas, fifty-two had vanished. Thus they decided to write down the Vedas thinking that if they delayed much longer the Vedas might all disappear. So they wrote down the remaining portions of the Vedas in Sáradá script. Those parts that had vanished were never written down and no matter how much effort is expended those lost portions will never be recovered.

When it became impossible to memorize the four Vedas as a whole the pandits decided that it would work better if they committed a single Veda to memory instead of all four. Those who were able to memorize a single Veda were given the title Páńd́eya (Pánŕe), that is, one who is a scholar (pandit) of one Veda.⁽¹⁾ Those who were able to commit two Vedas to memory were called Dvivedii (Duve). Similarly, pandits of three Vedas were known as Trivedii (Tewárii) and pandits of all four Vedas were known as Caturvedii (Caove). Later on the Yajurveda became so big that it was divided into two parts, the Krśńayajurveda and the Shuklayajurveda. Those who were pandits in the Shuklayajurveda were called Shukla (Shukul in the spoken language). In this way, when the Vedas grew beyond all capacity to memorize them, the pandits found themselves forced to give them a written form. Apart from this written form of the Vedas, the unwritten portion cannot be kept outside of the purview of sáhitya. It must certainly be classified as oral sáhitya.

Previously I stated that Bhojpuri, Magahii, Chatrishgaŕii and other languages deserve to be accepted as full-fledged languages. From the standpoint of literature as well they certainly deserve to be considered separate languages because all of these languages have their own oral literature.

Maethilii literature is nine hundred years old. There was a writer of Maethilii literature who predated Vidaypati. His name was Jyotiriishvara Thakur, the composer of the Varńaratnákara. He was the father of Maethilii literature. The pioneer of the Chatrishgaŕii language was Naval Sharma who wrote literature in that language. None of these languages is a dialect. If someone wants to undervalue them by calling them dialects then I would have to say that they have no acquaintance with learning no matter how much praise they might have received.

English literature before the time of Alfred was oral. He encouraged written English literature and from his time onwards it began to flourish, therefore he is called the father of English literature. Hussain Shah can also be given the same appellation in Bengali literature because he was the first nawab in that old, dark era to encourage poets and writers to compose literature, and to have religious books such as the Rámáyańa, the Mahábhárata and the Bhagavatam translated into Bengali. Bengali literature existed before the time of Hussain Shah but there is no indication that it enjoyed any government acceptance. The epic poetry that was composed by order of the kings cannot be said to have enjoyed government acceptance because in most cases the kings used to financially support these works out of greed for their own fame. The Caryápada (Caryácaryavinishcayah) is classified as sáhitya and it is more than a thousand years old. Most of these works were composed between thirteen hundred and a thousand years ago. At the time that the Caryápadas were written, Bengal was under the influence of the Kalacakrayána branch of Maháyána Buddhism. The principal centre of the Kalacakrayániis was Bajrayoginii village near Vikrampur in Dacca District. Anyhow, Bengali did not have any written literature before the Caryápadas because at that time Bengali was still rather limited. Moreover, in that era Demi-Mágadhii Prákrta was still prevalent.

Demi-Mágadhii Prákrta separated into two branches – eastern Demi-Mágadhii and western Demi-Mágadhii. The languages belonging to the eastern Demi-Mágadhii group are Bengali, Oriya, Assamese, Maethilii, Koshalii and Angika; those belonging to western Demi-Mágadhii are Magahii, Bhojpuri, Nágpurii (the language of western Ranchi) and Chatrishgaŕii. In eastern Demi-Mágadhii the verb-endings do not change according to number and gender. For example, Rám jácche [Ram is going] (singular) and Tárá jácche [they are going] (plural). Here there is no difference in the verb-endings. Likewise with Rám jácche, Siitá jácche – here also there is no change in the verb-endings despite the difference in gender, that is, both use the same verb form. Of course, in Maethilii there are exceptions to this that have arisen in modern times. For example, Rám geláh but Siitá geliih. As regards number, there is a difference in Oriya between the singular and the plural in the future tense of the first person. For example, the verb-ending for “I am going” is jibi in the singular but jibu in the plural. Magahii, despite being a western Demi-Mágadhii language, does not have any exception to this rule. In Bhojpuri the masculine form is karatá while the feminine form becomes karatiyá. The masculine dil cáhelá becomes átmá cáhelii in feminine gender. Similarly the masculine gaila becomes gelun in feminine gender.

I was saying that something does not have to be written to be literature. Alongside the Caryápadas in old Bengali and the written literature of the middle ages, the pervasive oral unwritten literature that existed cannot be discounted. In fact, not only during the old and middle ages, but today as well, there is an oral literature sprinkled alongside the written literature. Such oral forms of literature as Tusu songs (western Rarh), Bhádu songs (eastern Rarh), Bhawaia (north Bengal), Bhát́iyáli (southeast Bengal), Ául (central Bengal), Baul (Rarh), Múrshidá (central Bengal), Sári (Dacca, Pábná), Járigán (Mymensing), Vratakathá, Páncálii, lullabies, and so on, cannot be denied their right of admittance into the courtyard of literature. From the literary standpoint this oral literature must also be respected as literature, regardless of its tangibility or intangibility.

Intonation: Every language has its own intonation or style of pronunciation, just as every dialect has more or less its own intonation. This changes from village to village, mile to mile. If one hears O mańi bhát khává ná one can understand where that language comes from.

Earlier I was talking about King Alfred. During his time the educated English in the higher rungs of society preferred to study French. The study of French literature used to be a matter of pride. They used to go to Paris, France from time to time in order to perfect their French accent. There is a story connected with this. England’s Henry the Eighth was an unruly king. Once he came to Paris with the queen. In Paris many kinds of covetable drinks were available, thus when they were in Paris his desire for drink naturally increased. One day, while under the influence of liquor, he beat the queen so mercilessly that one of her legs became practically crippled. For several days she was obliged to drag it behind her as she walked. When the time came they returned to London (In those days they did not call it London but rather Londre in the aristocratic French language). The residents of the city fell head over heels in the nooks and crannies of the royal residence trying to see whether or not the king and queen had brought back any new fashions from Paris. They saw [Princess] Elizabeth dragging her leg and thought perhaps that this kind of walk was some kind of ultra-modern French style. Women have one great quality; they can easily imitate others. Thus it happened that within three to four days most of the women in the aristocratic households were dragging their leg behind them when they walked and taking a lot of pride in it. It is not written in the histories whether they ever discovered what the real story was behind the queen dragging her leg when she walked. Elizabeth’s style of walking while dragging her leg was called the “Elizabethan gait”.

Anyhow the English used to study French but they used to feel difficulties becoming accustomed to the French style of pronunciation because in French there is no pronunciation of the t́a varga. In English the pronunciation of the t́a varga predominates and the use of the ta varga is practically nil.⁽²⁾ Young boys are called “boy” in English and garcon in French but at that time in London people preferred the word garcon. The “c” in French has two different pronunciations. Sometimes it is similar to la and sometimes closer to sha. By adding the cedilla the pronunciation falls somewhere between sa and sha. The English used to pronounce the French word restaurent as reśt́ureńt́ (instead of restorán) and the French word hospital as haspitál (instead of apitál). The reason is that the t́a varga is not pronounced in French while in English there is limited pronunciation of the ta varga. Thus the French word mesdames (medám) became mesdems in English. In this way the English could not escape the influence of English intonation while speaking French.

Just as every language has its own intonation, so does every dialect. That intonation is captured in the various specific local pronunciations. For example, the pronunciations játi párlám ná, kháti párlám ná, cád (cánd), phád (phánd), and so on, indicate that it is the language of Jessore. There is a special type of intonation in the Gambhiirá songs of Maldah District. When Indians speak English there is a different pronunciation in each area according to the influence of the locality. The influence of Bengali intonation is clearly evident when Bengalees speak English. “Giva me a glassa of watera” – you will hear this kind of pronunciation and by hearing it you can tell that this is the influence of a certain local area. If someone who is not accustomed to speaking Calcutta Bengali wants to speak it then there will be a definite difference in their pronunciation. Once a certain gentleman from Burdwan was speaking with a gentleman from Calcutta in very good Calcutta Bengali but when the word kyándái came out of his mouth he gave away that he was not actually from Calcutta at all. Once a Bihari gentleman was standing in front of a betel shop in Lucknow and said dot́ho pánká khili dijiye [give me a couple of khilis (betel leaf with lime, catechu and betel-nut folded inside)]. What he should have said was do khiliyán dijánye. When the betel seller gave him his betel he said – do khiliyán li jánye, “t́ho” udhár milegá [here are your two khiliyán, the “t́ho” you will get over there]. When an Englishman speaks Hindi he finds himself unable to avoid the influence of his own language’s intonation. He says eyá myán, t́um kid́hár hyay, páni caŕáo. Mistaken pronunciation is a social offence because successive mistakes in the pronunciation of a word or words become widespread in the society and lead to the distortion of a language. Thus teachers should exercise extreme caution in this regard, otherwise their poor pronunciation will have an undesirable effect on their students and millions will suffer for it.

The intonation of a particular language should be mastered for that language. In Sanskrit the pronunciation of the ma is accepted in the conjuncts sma or dma (for example, padma – pad - ma), but in Bengali sma is pronounced like sya and dma is pronounced like dda, that is, ma is not pronounced separately. Sanskrit should be pronounced according to its own particular intonation and Bengali should also be pronounced according to its own style. Hindi and English also should follow their respective styles. The standard colloquial form of Bengali is Calcutta Bengali, hence it is only reasonable that educated Bengalees speak Calcutta Bengali. Maethilii, Avadhii, Bhojpuri, etc. have their own intonations and those languages should be pronounced according to their respective intonations. For example, in Maethilii the rule is that if i follows a consonant in a word then the i is pronounced before the consonant, not after the consonant. For example, one writes pánii but pronounces it páin. Mát́i is pronounced mait́; bhági is pronounced bháig; pisii is pronounced pius; daŕibháuṋgá is pronounced dáiŕbháuṋgá, and so on. If a triangle is created between three points located in London, Cambridge and Oxford then the spoken language of the area lying inside the triangle is standard spoken English and should be followed. Cockney and American English pronunciation are not correct pronunciations of the English language.

I have said many times in the past and will repeat again that there is a need for an easy, well-understood spoken language with a high quality of intonation to be accepted as the standard spoken and written language for each and every language. In this respect, it appears that the Bengali of Calcutta should be considered to be standard Bengali. In the same way, the spoken language of Moghulpurá (near Lahore in Pakistan) for Panjabi, Campánagar for Angika (a little to the west of Bhagalpur – during the time of Karńa this Campakanagarii was the capital of Angadesh), Gumlá for Nágpurii, Cuttack for Oriya, Shivasagar for Assamese, Rajgir for Magahii (Rajgir or Rajgiri or Girivraja was the old capital of Magadha – it is situated in the heart of Magadha), Madhuvanii for Maethilii, Dumraon for Bhojpuri (this is situated in the ancient district of Bhojpur), Rewa for Bághelii, Delhi’s Chandnichowk for Urdu (Lucknow’s language is not Urdu but Avadhii), and Raipur for Chattrishgaŕii should be considered to be their respective language’s accepted standard language. These languages not only take less time to speak, they also save space when they are written. It is pleasant to hear these free and unencumbered languages being spoken. The sixth condition for acceptance as a language is precisely this style of intonation, therefore attention must be paid to it.

Footnotes

(1) The real meaning of the word pańd́á is “intelligence resplendent with divine knowledge (veda)”, or “spiritual wisdom” – ahaḿ brahmásmiiti buddhih támitah práptah pańd́itah, that is, one who possesses this intelligence resplendent with divine knowledge deserves to be called pandit.

(2) Some people claim that the use of the ta varga is non-existent in English but this is altogether untrue. [“The”, “thousand”, “that”, “those”, etc.] are definitely pronounced with the ta varga.