Signs of Marathi’s decline are all around

Written By Neeta Kolhatkar | Updated:

Youth do not use their mother tongue; Experts blame politicians who only give the language lip service.

The Thackerays may loudly lament the decline of Marathi, but the ordinary Maharashtrian is not opting to study in her mother tongue, nor does she think it necessary to use Marathi to get her work done. In a cosmopolitan city like Mumbai, English is the language of choice.

“I have studied in English and my upbringing has been such that we were never compelled to speak in Marathi,” says Munira Chendvankar, a final-year student of the Bachelor of Mass Media course of Mumbai University. “I speak in Marathi with my parents and some close people only.”

Chendvankar wonders why “such a big deal” is being made of speaking in Marathi. “We should have the right to speak in any language,” she says. “The youth prefer communicating in English, though I can speak in Hindi, Marathi, and Gujarati, too.”

That today’s Marathi youth has no strong bond with her mother tongue is no surprise. Look at the membership of the renowned Marathi Granth Sangrahalay at Dadar. The membership today is half of what it used to be 120 years ago. “When the Sangrahalay started in 1889, we had 22,000 members,” says official Sunil Kubal. “Today we have barely 11,000. We started with 500 books. Today we have 4.5 lakh, many even first editions. Yet, most of our members are above 60.”

Kubal says the message is clear: Youth have no love for their language. This is corroborated by the state of Marathi theatre. Marathi plays barely find an audience. “The days of queues outside Shivaji Mandir and Sahitya Sahvas are over,” says Vijay Desai, manager, YB Chavan Centre.

Most Maharashtrians send their children to English-medium schools. Experts say the curricula and references in Marathi have not been updated for almost 30 years. For instance, school textbooks talk of soil types that no longer exist in regions like Vidarbha.

“It is the government’s responsibility to mould a language and make it adaptable so that the public can use references from the world around them,” says Deepak Pawar, director, Marathi Abhyas Kendra. “This is not happening with our language.”

Individuals such as music composer Kaushal Inamdar are trying to change the way the language is perceived, but it’s not a concerted effort. Through sheer perseverance, Inamdar forced a cellphone service provider to add Marathi as a language for customer service. But he laments that a Marathi film personality or musician is not seen to be successful if he sticks to his roots.
The biggest drawback, say experts, is that while the government has made Marathi compulsory for all official communication, it has failed to provide the linkages necessary between the language and job opportunities. “The Shiv Sena ensured that the Marathi manoos got clerical jobs,” says Pawar. “But they have not been able to provide better employment opportunities to those who use Marathi.”

According to former school education minister Radhakrishna Vikhe-Patil, Marathi and the framework in which it is taught needs to be restructured. “But the government can’t do it without the support of teachers and the community.”