The Reality: We speak "Hinglish" or "Tanglish." Our mother tongues are colonized by English nouns. I realized I don't know the Assamese word for "Airport," "Internet," or "Switch."
The Challenge: For 24 hours, I cannot speak a single word of English. If the word doesn't exist (like "Computer"), I must describe it using native words (e.g., "Digital Brain Machine").
(My Usual Speech Pattern)
> THE MORNING STRUGGLE (08:00 AM)
I tried to ask my mom for "Breakfast."
Mom: (Laughs) "Why are you talking like a textbook from 1950?"
Using pure words feels formal. It feels old. My own mother thought I was being dramatic.
> THE LOANWORD MINEFIELD
I realized how many objects I cannot name. I tried to go to the bank.
FAIL: "Cheque" is English. "Deposit" is English.
CORRECTION: "Moi... kagojor dhon... joma dibo bisari silu." (I wanted to gather paper money).
The bank teller looked at me like I was an alien researcher.
> THE "TECH" PROBLEM
Technology is English. There are no ancient words for "Server" or "Upload."
| English Word | My Attempted Translation | Reaction |
|---|---|---|
| Mobile Phone | "Duro-bhash Jontro" (Distance Speech Machine) | Confusion |
| Internet | "Antarjaal" (Inner Web) | Laughter |
| Laptop | "Kola-Komputer" (Lap-Computer) | Mockery |
> THE OFFICE CALL (11:00 AM)
This was impossible. I had a Zoom call.
Me: "Moi... talika... notun koi..." (I... the list... newly...)
Colleague: "Bro, are you okay? Should we switch to English?"
I had to break character. FAIL. You cannot survive in corporate India without English.
> THE FRUSTRATION GRAPH
My brain hurt. Translating in real-time is computationally expensive for the brain.
> CONCLUSION
We are losing our languages. Not the grammar, but the nouns. We use the framework of our mother tongue, but fill it with English bricks.
Speaking purely felt poetic, but functional suicide. I am now going to read an Assamese dictionary. I refuse to let "Duro-bhash Jontro" die.