The way we see things

Konkani: One language, two scripts

January 31, 2012 by Laura Nelson

"Sasupai, why do we have to go to a 'Christian' restaurant? What does that mean anyway? Isn’t it kind of weird to divide restaurants by religions?"

Welcome to Goa, the smallest of the 28 states and 7 territories that comprise India. Located on the mid-southwestern coast of the sub-continent, today it is primarily known for its gorgeous beaches, psychedelic trance music and, increasingly (especially internationally), its cuisine.

The legacies of having been a Catholic Portuguese colony for nearly 500 years - up until 1961 - linger on in obvious and subtle ways: architecture, food, names of people, names of places, and a single yet divided language – called Konkani in Roman script and  कोंकणी in Devanagari script.

It turns out that restaurants are not the only things divided by religion.

At least with restaurants, a person can have a bit of variety. You can go to a Hindu restaurant one night and order vegetarian dishes, like dahl (lentils) or aloo gobi (cauliflower and potatoes). Another night why not try mutton biryani (biryani comes from Persian word beryā(n) (بریان) which means "fried" or "roasted" and is a saffron rice dish to which many different ingredients can be added) at a Muslim restaurant? Though admittedly there are few Muslims in the area. But if you're looking for the spicy and unapologetically pork-laden sorpotel/sarapatel, the eating establishment will have to be Christian.

When it comes to the local language, Konkani, things get more complicated. Native Konkani speakers primarily use one of two different scripts to write the language: Roman and Devanagari.

And a person's script use, like the food, is generally a question of religious culture. If you write the language in Roman script, you are probably Christian; if you write the language in Devanagari, you’re most likely Hindu or Muslim. The school you go to, the books you will be able to read, and the people with whom you can have a written correspondence – all will be inadvertently determined by, and limited to, your cultural-religious background.

In Christian and Muslim restaurants, if I want to, I can just order vegetarian dishes; if I don’t want to drink alcohol, I can order an alternative no matter which restaurant I’m in.

But in their learning institutions, there are no menus to provide choice. Although there are people who can read and write both scripts, most Konkani speakers cannot easily choose to read, write and study in Devanagari script one day and in Roman script the next…

Sasupai is the Konkani word for "father-in-law" in Roman script. The same word, same pronunciation exists in Devanagari as सासुपै.

My Konkani, Portuguese- and English-speaking sasupai passed away in 2008 and is sorely missed. Upon a visit to Goa without my father-in-law in 2009, my husband and I struck up a friendship with a Hindu Goan family we had met and ended up visiting their home.  The grandmother of the house was in her early 80s, approximately the same age of my father-in-law, who had lived in the area as a boy.

The family was delighted to learn that I’d called my father-in-law "sasupai" and insisted I call the grandmother, "sasumai" [ सासुमै in Devanagari ]– you guessed it, mother-in-law.

Gradually, it came to light that the grandmother had known my father-in-law’s family. However, although the two families had known each other intimately, and were native speakers of the same language, they would not have been able to attend the same schools or write letters to each other.

Although English was the language of the British colonists, this script phenomenon partway explains why English remains an official language in India today. Internationally and even within post-colonial India, for better or worse, English is hard to beat as a lingua franca.

My sasupai, a devout Catholic, was able to enjoy his sorpotel, Kingfisher beer and fenny (or feni, a Goan cashew liqueur)... all of which we found at various Christian restaurants between the lovely, if touristy, Goan beaches of Baga and Calangute. 

Regardless of what language, religion, or restaurants you prefer, the rich diversity of landscape and of cultures that a trip to Goa provides is well worth any confusion such diversity might occasionally create. Bon voyage!

Comments (4)
Categories:
Linguistics, Geopolitics, Language Factoids, Multiculturalism

Comments - 4

Great read!

I was fascinated by the fact that Konkani is written in two different scripts.

Samira Khalid

said on February 5, 2012 at 8:04 am

Very nice and insightful blog, Laura. It’s three years since your last visit to Goa and India - I remember the amazing incident you refer to, described so vividly by Karl soon after your holiday.
Trust both of you are well, Tino

Tino

said on February 6, 2012 at 1:45 am

I am a native speaker of Urdu and Punjabi, and we also have a similar ‘divide’. In Punjabi, we Pakistanis write in the Shahmukhi script, which is closer to Persian/Arabic. The Indian Punjab on the other hand has its own script called Gurmukhi. It’s interesting how sometimes cultural and religious differences can determine which script you will be using.

And although we essentially speak the same language and can easily understand each other, Pakistani Punjabi is heavily influenced by Urdu, and Indian Punjabi is closer to Hindi. Gosh, we even speak in a distinctly different ‘accent’.

Reading this article reminded me of the differences and similarities between Shahmukhi and Gurmukhi Punjabi.

Samira Khalid said on February 26, 2012 at 11:40 am

Samira, that’s fascinating! I’d love to see an example of the 2 different Punjabis, if you’d be willing to provide one. My husband and I speak British and American English, respectively, and even though there are plenty of linguistic and cultural differences, at least we use the same script! Thanks for your thoughtful comment!

Laura

said on February 29, 2012 at 2:01 pm
Commenting is not available in this section entry.