I had two minutes left for my interview to start and I couldnât ad the room. Lost, I stopped whoever I could in the confusing corridors of St. Stephens College to ask for directions. Most students ignored me. Many sniggered. I wondered why. Well, now I know. My accent. Back in 2004, my English was Bihari. I donât want to talk now like I did back then. Itâs embarrassing. It wasnât English. It was 90 per cent Bihari Hindi mixed with 10 per cent really bad English. For instance, this is what I had actually said: 'Cumty room...bat!aieyega zara? Hamara interview hai na wahan... Mera khel ka kota hai. Kis taraf hai?â If I start speaking the way I did in those days, youâll get a headache. So Iâm going to say everything in English, just imagine my words in Bhojpuri-laced Hindi, with the worst possible English thrown in. âWhere you from, man?â said a boy with hair longer than most girls. âMe Madhav Jha from Dumraon, Bihar.â His friends laughed. Over time, I learnt that people often ask what they call a ârhetoricalâ questionâ"something they ask just to make a point, not expecting an answer. Here, the point was to demonstrate that I was an alien amongst them. âWhat are you interviewing for? Peon?' the long-haired boy said and laughed. I didnât know enough English back then to be offended. Also, I was in a hurry. âYou know where it is?â I said instead, looking at his group of friends. They all seemed to be the rich, English types. Another boy, short and fat, seemed to take pity on me and replied, âTake a left at the corner of the main red building and youâll find a sign for the committee room.â âThank you,â I said.This I knew how to say in English. |
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