Chutnefying English: Addressing the ‘What’s up, yaar?’ generation

Is pure language dying a slow death? Has Hinglish taken the place of chaste Hindi and English in popular culture?

From the CEO sitting in his plush office to the wannabe actor turned taxi driver, Hinglish has sneaked its way into every Indian’s life. Bollywood, advertising, even everyday life reflects this popular cultural truth in many ways. So much so that academicians are worried about the slowly perishing purity of each language.

Is Hinglish a unifying force in a diverse country such as India? Debating this was a panel of eminent speakers at the MICA instituted event, Chutnefying English, in a session moderated by Gurucharan Das, author of India Unbound.

Das began by stating that Hinglish is indeed a new language created by popular culture. “Shakespeare was among the first to blend English with German, French, Latin… he borrowed freely, almost bordering on promiscuity,” said Das. “Can there be a Shakespeare for Hinglish? If Hinglish is considered a metro language, can it possibly be a global one? And if so, what happens to standard English, or untainted regional languages?” he questioned.

Panellist Prasoon Joshi, executive chairperson, McCann Worldgroup India, and regional creative director, McCann Asia Pacific, explained that two forms of Hinglish exist today. One involves twisting an existing Hindi word and forcing it into an English format, such as “I ‘rakhoed’ it there” or “Don’t darofy”. This, he said, is typically used by a person comfortable with English, who almost feels a sense of supremacy or ‘coolness’ in experimenting with words in that manner. “I’ll say this is ‘Eng-di’, if you must give it a name,” Joshi said.

The second type is a language of survival – the language of today, which people use in their daily lives. “If my driver tells me, ‘Mera dad off ho gaya’, chances are that he isn’t even aware that he has used English words in his sentence… that’s probably the only way he thinks of expressing himself,” said Joshi.

Chaste English in advertising is almost extinct today, he said, a point that was supported by his fellow panellist and client, Prashant Panday, chief executive officer, Radio Mirchi, who explained how the earlier tagline for the radio brand, ‘It’s Hot’, found another expression in ‘Mirchi Sunnewale Always Khush’.

“We chose the word ‘always’ and not ‘hamesha’ because we speak the language our listeners speak,” said Panday. “We live in a multilingual society, particularly in metros. It would be silly to ask someone in Mumbai, for instance, what their mother tongue is.”

In Kolkata, for instance, Benglish or Bhendi is all pervasive on the radio station. “India is unique because it allows a huge opportunity to mix things up,” he added.

Even Bollywood movies today have titles, dialogues and songs primarily in Hinglish, particularly when addressing the youth. Movie titles like Jab We Met are a fine example.

Expressing her concern as an academician on the disappearing chasteness of languages, Rita Kothari, professor, MICA, spoke up, “This concerns me... isn’t there a dumbing down of academic language by propagating Hinglish in the media?”

Joshi was quick to respond: For him, the media reflects, and even co-creates, popular culture. “Take Rang De Basanti’s Masti Ki Paathshaala as an example,” he said, citing his own lyrical work, which made use of Hindi, Urdu and English all together. “This is as much poetry as Taare Zameen Par, I’ll say.”

In advertising, too, Hinglish isn’t a limitation to communication across borders. When adapting the Thanda Matlab Coca-Cola campaign in Indonesia, McCann Erickson made increased use of body language rather than dialogues, because Indonesians tend to identify quicker with that. “Hinglish has its own rules, grammar and poetry,” Joshi said.

Also present was Cyrus Broacha, video jockey, MTV India, best known for never sitting still or quiet, who made a valid point, “The chastity of a language is important, but what’s more important is communicating… let’s not forget why languages were invented.”

Broacha quipped that there was no point in discussing the works of Munshi Premchand with someone who had never heard of him. “Similarly, one has to adapt one’s language in accordance with the person he is addressing,” Broacha said. “When I’m in Delhi, I automatically go into the ‘What’s up, yaar?’ mode.”

Rahul Dev, managing trustee, Samyak Foundation, and CEO and editor in chief, CNEB, acknowledged that every language evolves and grows. However, he expressed concern about the disappearing words and nuances of the heartlands of India, something he termed as a “loss” and not an “evolution”.

To this, Joshi said that if a word had disappeared, it was probably because there was a need to tow that word away. “Today, we use words like ‘Missed call’, which has probably taken the place of some archaic word that isn’t used any more… this is evolution, the language of today,” he said.

But Dev wasn’t finished. “If the increased use of English in India was about giving equal respect to all languages, no one would object. But how can we forget the prestige and power equation that English, and now Hinglish, have vis-à-vis other languages?” he pointed out.

The debate didn’t draw to an amicable conclusion, thanks to the various conflicting points of view among the panellists, and even contributors present in the audience.