Showing posts with label Linguistics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Linguistics. Show all posts

This English–Kannada Dictionary Breaks New Ground

Renowned linguist Dr. D. N. Shankara Bhat’s new English-Kannada dictionary titled English-Kannada Padanerake (Kannada: ಇಂಗ್ಲಿಶ್-ಕನ್ನಡ ಪದನೆರಕೆ) was released last Sunday. It has been co-authored by Y Bharath Kumar and Vivek Shankar, both engineers by profession with interest in the field of linguistics.

While there are several English-Kannada dictionaries already available in the market, this work is quite different from the rest in three key aspects –
  • The Kannada synonyms of English words provided in the dictionary are all mostly native Kannada words, with a very minimal number having their roots in other languages
  • Along with native Kannada words in popular use, it also includes newly coined words, especially those corresponding to the fields of commerce, science, technology, and other modern fields of study 
  • It has a sizable number of words coined by commoners and enthusiasts through the Facebook group Pada Pada Kannada Padane
In all, there are about 18,000 English words listed in the dictionary, to which, about 45,000 Kannada equivalents have been provided. It also contains several detailed examples illustrating the use of words in their different shades of meaning.

A good portion of words contained in most Kannada dictionaries of today are of Sanskrit origin that are not easily comprehensible to a common Kannada speaker. This is particularly true of words used in the fields of science and technology. Such words, owing to their unfamiliarity, appear quite complex and largely fail to convey the intended meaning.

As of today, not much work has been done in building science vocabulary in Kannada. We are mostly reliant on English, which makes learning difficult for commoners. And whatever new Kannada words that have been coined, especially the terminologies used in scientific literature, are mostly constructed from Sanskrit root words. Most of these words, as said above, appear complex and not easily understandable. 

This dictionary tries to fill the gap by providing words that are easy to comprehend and use. Kannada equivalents to scientific terms provided in the new dictionary are very close to native words used in common speech. The use of native words in coining new terms also has the inherent advantage of making use of native Kannada grammatical rules. Hence, not only is it easy to comprehend a new word and the associated concept, subject matter experts and common Kannada speakers alike can coin new words all by themselves.

By coining words that are closer to people’s language, and using them in building content in science and technology, several issues concerned with learning can be effectively resolved over a period of time, serving as an enabler to students studying science in the Kannada medium. 

And these concerns are not just limited to Kannada, but pervasive across many other Indian languages. Such language communities too should consider coining words in their own languages to build their word stock, chiefly scientific lexicon, by the use of well-known and commonly used words.

Needless to say, the dictionary is just the first step in the long journey of building corpus in Kannada. It is unprecedented in that excepting a few individual attempts at coining words in native Kannada no other initiative has yet taken up the task in such an organized manner and scale.

The dictionary, released last Sunday, will be available in the market shortly. One may follow Dr. Bhat’s website for the latest updates.

Classicalization of Literary Form Erects Barriers to Mobilization

Pic Source: librarykvkasaulihp.wordpress.com

Several articles on Karnatique in the past have talked about the distance between colloquial Kannada and the literary form of Kannada. If you have not come across this topic before, you would get a fair understanding by reading this article.

In many of the discussions regarding the distance between colloquial Kannada and the literary form, the question invariably arises "is this something specific to Kannada?". The answer is "no". Some people have also suspected that because Kannada belongs to Dravidian family of languages, borrowing words from the Sanskrit language (belonging to Indo-European language family) for usage in literary form of Kannada is the reason for this distance. Well, it might come as a surprise to many that even the languages belonging to Indo-European family, Hindi for instance, have this enlarged gap between the colloquial and the literary forms. The gap is mainly due to giving up of the words regularly used in spoken forms to make way for words from the Sanskrit language. One research paper that was published in the year 1968 has captured this phenomenon. Language Hindi is the subject of study in that research paper. In this article, we shall understand the phenomenon, with the help of findings mentioned in the research paper.

Linguists Joshua A. Fishman, Charles A. Ferguson and Jyotirindra Das Gupta have come up with a book titled “Language Problems Of Developing Nations”. The book, first published in 1968, is a collection of research papers around the subject of socio-linguistics. In the book, there is a research paper titled “Language, Communication and Control in North India”, jointly written by Jyotirindra Das Gupta and John J. Gumperz.

The research paper talks about the developments around languages in the geographical area that fall under the present day states of Uttar Pradesh and Bihar, in the Indian Union. The developments recorded in the research paper have occurred in the 1900s. The below pasted text is an excerpt from the research paper that sheds light on how the standardization efforts moved the literary form of Hindi far away from the colloquial forms.
The Hindi scholars have interpreted the task of language development as being synonymous with increasing classicalization. But classicalization implies that the literary language diverges sharply from the common speeches, thus causing an increasing separation between the media of elite communication and mass comprehension. Evidently, the Hindi scholars are less concerned with standardizing the language for popular use than for retaining its purity from the contamination of the outside influences. Hence the policy of elitist sanctity has been of greater salience to their conception of language planning than the policy of extension of mass communication.
In summary, the official Hindi that is being used in teaching and for governmental communications today is built to suit elite communication, rather than mass comprehension. As the written form of a language moves away from the spoken form, naturally the masses find it difficult to comprehend.

The authors of the research paper have also listed a couple of examples that have been sourced from sign boards intended for the public, and also from the text of the Indian Constitution. The examples listed below have been reproduced from the research paper.
Example 1:
- dhuumprapaan varjint hai (official text)
- smoking prohibited (English translation)
- sigret piinaa manaa hai (approximate equivalent in the colloquial)
Example 2:
- raastrapati kaa nirvacin eek aisee nirvaacik gan kee sadasy kareengee (official text)
- the president’s election will be done by electors chosen to include (English translation)
- raastrapati kaa cunaaoo eek aisee cunee huwee sadasy kareengee (approximate equivalent in the colloquial)

Apart from these two examples, the authors also cite the words used commonly in the literary Hindi and their counterparts in the colloquial Hindi. Some of those are:
- yadi for agar (if)
- kintu for magar (but) 
- atah for isliye (therefore)
- pratham for pahlaa (first)

By citing these examples, and highlighting the differences between the literary Hindi and the colloquial Hindi, the authors opine thus:
It seems evident that the new grammatical differences between colloquial and literary Hindi resulting from recent language reform materially add to the ordinary speaker’s task of learning literary Hindi. Many of the new rules are irregular in that they affect only certain parts of the vocabulary. Others affect deeply ingrained pronunciation patterns. Considerable exposure time is required before such rules can be mastered. Many native-speakers of Hindi, including some educated persons, feel uneasy about their control of literary Hindi. On the other hand, those who have been exposed to the present form of literary Hindi as part of their family background have considerable advantage in the educational system. New barriers to mobilization are being created, providing an opportunity for elite particularism to assert itself.
The situation is not much different in my mother-tongue Kannada. The present day literary form of Kannada language has drifted far from the colloquial Kannada. There are efforts to bring the literary form of Kannada as close to the spoken form as possible. Such efforts help undo the barriers to mobilization that have been erected. In the end, any language standardization process must strive to make the literary form suitable for mass communication. Mass communication will only succeed with mass comprehension, won't it?

Languages and their Origins




The English word ‘attic’ has its roots in the Kannada word ‘aṭṭa’ (ಅಟ್ಟ). Even to this day, the English word has not changed much in terms of meaning and also how it sounds! Similarly, cut comes from Kannada ‘kaḍi’, make from ‘māḍu’, kill from ‘kollu’, all from ‘ella’ and nation from ‘nāḍu’. This way, I can claim that all of English words have their roots in Kannada. And why should I limit to English? I can claim Kannada origin of all words of the entire family of Indo-European languages, including Sanskrit. If this sounds like a fantasy, wait! Let me throw in some bits that are well accepted by modern linguists as well. The words like ‘rice’ and ‘wootz’ have Kannada (or Dravidian) roots. Let me list a few more words like these and my argument starts sounding more credible.

Now that I am done with words, let me get to grammar. This will make my argument complete. That not just the words of the English language but the language itself (and all Indo-European languages) originated from Kannada. Let me start with a point I noted on verbs. In Kannada, verbs can function as adjectives when used with a noun. For example, consider the words ījukoḷa (ಈಜುಕೊಳ, swimming pool), and bīsugaaḷi (ಬೀಸುಗಾಳಿ, blowing wind). Doesn’t the word ‘swimming pool’ follow a very similar grammatical rule (verb or a verb form acting as an adjective)? In the case of English, the verb ‘swim’ has only been given a simplified form, ‘swimming’!

Many people who claim Sanskrit is the root of all of Indian languages (and even all of the world’s languages), often resort to such arguments. Of late, I have come across quite a few online articles, and social media posts with bizarre claims regarding Sanskrit’s relation with other Indian languages, especially Kannada. Some directly accord the status of motherhood to Sanskrit, and a few others claim a very high degree of Sanskrit influence on word and syntactic structures. Though the topic is very much linguistic in nature, people interweave various other subjects like education, culture, literature and even national integration into it, making it appear far more complicated than what it really is. In this article I will strictly stick to linguistics, and show why arguments made in favor of Sanskrit in this regard are mostly baseless. I will try to limit references to other topics, as each of these is quite complex in itself and discussing all of them together can become quite confusing. 

Let me begin with the often made claim that the grammatical structure of south Indian languages, like Kannada and Telugu, is inherited from Sanskrit. To make such a claim you need to show that these three languages were one single language at some point in the past and then they branched off, with the grammar of each branch undergoing different progressive changes, ultimately resulting in what they are today. But there is no evidence to show that the grammatical structures of Telugu, Kannada and Sanskrit were once the same and to explain their current grammatical structures as a result of evolution of the original structure into three different branches, each gradually undergoing distinct changes over time.

Is presence of similar case systems (vibhakti) in two languages good enough evidence to show that they are somehow related? Not really. Hungarian, a language of Uralic family, for example, has seven cases, one less than what Sanskrit has. Incidentally, like Kannada, it does not possess the ablative case, the panchama vibhakti. But that does not prove that the case system itself went to Hungarian from Sanskrit or was inherited from it, and that the panchama vibhakti was somehow later lost. Many Indo-European languages including ancient Latin and Greek too possess a case system. This is the result of their shared ancestry and not proof that they have Sanskrit roots. English, which as of today follows word order to indicate case, also once had a case system!

Now, let us take a closer look at the case system of Sanskrit and Kannada. Suffixes of each case in Kannada are not bound to the grammatical number or vachana of the word. Case suffix and number suffix are independent in Kannada. In Sanskrit, case suffixes vary with grammatical number of the word. For example, the second case (dvitīya vibhakti) suffix of the word ‘ಹುಡುಗ’ (‘huḍuga’, boy) is always ‘ಅನ್ನು’ (annu) regardless of whether the word appears in singular form (ಹುಡುಗನನ್ನು) or plural (ಹುಡುಗರನ್ನು). But in the case of Sanskrit, the dvitīya vibhakti suffix of the word ‘बालक’ (also meaning boy) varies depending on the word’s grammatical number. बालकम् is singular, बालकौ is dual, and बालकान्  is plural. Infact, Sanskrit has one suffix for each case and number combination, and both cannot be represented independently.  Also note that Kannada has only two categories of the grammatical number (singular and plural), Sanskrit has three (singular, dual, and plural). Clearly, case and number systems of both Kannada and Sanskrit are quite distinct.

Many, however, may claim that the dual grammatical number (dwivachana) has been lost from Kannada, but there is no proof to show that it ever existed and was later lost. 

Some new Kannada grammars still retain the panchama vibhakti. But does that mean it existed in Kannada in the past and was later lost? No. Early Kannada grammarians, including Keshi Raja, who wrote the ‘Shabdamani Darpana’, were of the opinion that Kannada had its roots in Sanskrit and that the grammatical structures of both languages were similar. So, they simply tried to adapt Panini’s rules into Kannada, and that explains why the panchama vibhakti sneaked into Kannada grammars. Blind adherence ensures it is retained to this date. Analysis of available old Kannada texts and classics that were written 9th century onwards, and even all the stone inscriptions that go back to the 5th century AD show no signs of the existence of panchama vibhakti in Kannada at any point in history.

Coming to Sandhis, I noticed a couple of examples to show how Kannada Sandhis are similar to Sanskrit Sandhis. Again, these look like an attempt to find some similarity somewhere and claim all of it came from Sanskrit. The Kannada example, 

ಮನೆಯಲ್ಲಿ + ಇರ್ದಂ = ಮನೆಯಲ್ಲಿರ್ದಂ (maneyalli + irdam = maneyallirdam)

cannot be compared with any Sandhi of Sanskrit. In the above example, two similar short vowels (ಇ, i) join together resulting in the loss of one of them. But in Sanskrit, when two similar short vowels join together the resultant is a long vowel of the same kind. For example, 

रवि + इन्द्र = रवीन्द्र (ravi + indra = ravīndra)

Similarly, the comparisons of Kannada’s Agama and Adesha Sandhis with various other Sanskrit Sandhis are incorrect and baseless. Take the comparison between वागीश and ತಲೆಗೆಟ್ಟು. There is definitely, a replacement of one letter by another in both these Sandhi words. But the rules are completely different. In the former it is an unvoiced consonant combining with a vowel, and becoming the corresponding voiced consonant in the first word. No such Sandhi rule or tendency exists in Kannada. In the latter Kannada word, such a replacement happens in the second word, and it no way conforms to the Jashtva Sandhi rules, as defined in Sanskrit grammar. 

In a nutshell, Kannada Sandhis follow a completely different set of rules, and are very much different from those of Sanskrit. While Sanskrit Sandhis can be described using a set of strict rules, Kannada Sandhis can only be explained as tendencies, with lots of variations and exceptions – a symptom of a living, evolving language.

Like the Sandhis, there are fundamental differences between the Samasas (word compounds) of Kannada and Sanskrit. Some linguists even disagree the Sanskrit-like classification of Kannada Samasas, based on, which of the words in the compound is primary. I will not get into such a fundamental question here but let me give a couple of examples to show how the classification is quite unsatisfactory. Some people have claimed that Amshi Samasa of Kannada and Avyayibahava Samasa of Sanskrit are identical. As per the definition of Avyayibhava, an indeclinable (that cannot be inflected, an avyaya) word, combines with another word to form a compound that itself is indeclinable (avyaya). Now, have a look at the examples that many Kannada grammarians give for Amshi Samasa: ಮುಂಗೈ, ಮುಂದಲೆ, ಮುಂಗಾಲು etc. Clearly these are not avyayas or indeclinables. They are inflectable words and hence fall under the definition of Bahuvrihi Samasa, at best. Such ambiguities and confusions have arisen because of attempts to fit-in Sanskrit grammar into Kannada. In this case the ambiguity was so obvious that the suggested Kannada compounds simply did not fit the definition of Avyayibhava and hence were later given another name, Amshi, by Kannada grammarians. That has not solved the issue though!

Word structures of both Kannada and Sanskrit too are quite dissimilar. But there are considerable differences between Sanskrit and Kannada in terms of categorization of words, and how such words are used in sentences. This is again a very involved topic, and I will resist going into the details, as it cannot fit the scope of the current article.

When Kannada literature blossomed it was, without a speck of doubt, influenced by Sanskrit and Prakrit. The Sanskrit alphabet was directly copied for Kannada, with only small modifications. It is also true that later Kannada poets and authors have borrowed Sanskrit vocabulary and have used them in their writings. A fraction of such words have trickled down to speech as well. But that cannot be evidence to show that Kannada has Sanskrit roots or that it has deviated largely from its native traits and acquired Sanskrit-like characteristics. 

Just because some words or grammatical segments of Kannada (and other languages like Telugu) look similar to those of Sanskrit, it does not mean they have their roots in Sanskrit. If you argue in those lines, argument can be made in favour any language as the ‘mother of all languages’. This is exactly what I pointed out at the start of this article. Natural languages evolve over time, and it is only by tracing back changes, in a scientific way, several hundreds and even thousands of years into the past, it becomes possible to determine which languages are genetically related and organize them into language families. Linguists have long established that languages spoken in India belong to four different language families, Dravidian, Indo-Aryan, Tibeto-Burman and Austro-Asiatic. Sanskrit belongs to the Indo-Aryan group, which itself is a branch of the Indo-European family. Languages of this family, including Sanskrit, Latin, Greek, etc evolved from a proto Indo-European language and hence Sanskrit cannot be considered as the root of even many of the languages in its own family. Arguing that it is the mother of languages of unrelated families is too far-fetched.

(Picture source: Wikimedia)

Karnataka's "linguistic inferiority complex" must go

PUROHITA writes from Singapore: Just as the effect of hundreds of years of environment can be seen in the bark of a tree, the effect of hundreds of years of history can be seen in the linguistic inferiority complex that prevails in Karnataka today. I use the term linguistic inferiority complex (LIC) to denote inferiority complex relating to one’s own language, its utility, its boundaries and its importance. The disastrous effects of this inferiority complex can be seen in our education system, our society, industry, and in general just about everywhere. LIC is so second nature to the so-called "thinkers" of Karnataka today that even its existence is not acknowledged by them. LIC in Karnataka is made up of the following four unwritten linguistic inferiority complexes, not one of them scientific or democratic or supported by commonsense or fact:

  1. Kannada can be used only for "simple conversations and light stuff like poetry, drama and other non-scientific things"
  2. English is the best language for "conversations between intelligent people; definitely the language for any scientific topic"
  3. Samskruta is the only language for anything even slightly spiritual
  4. Hindi is more important than Kannada in India

The first inferiority complex can be traced to India’s colonial past. The British who opened English schools instead of Kannada and Samskruta schools sowed the seed of linguistic inferiority complex. School students used to get punished for speaking in Kannada (this is seen even today in most of Bengalooru schools) and rewarded for every small achievement in English. With this a sense of achievement got attached to English and a sense of non-achievement to Kannada. Kannada came to be slowly regarded as a language fit only for simple conversations and light stuff like poetry, drama and other non-scientific things – because the British simply didn’t let anything other than that to go on in Kannada. They truly didn’t think Kannada was fit for anything at all. Even after independence and consequent formation of linguistic states, Kannada is not fully implemented in administration, education or industry.

Since the British introduced English as the panacea in the atmosphere of inferiority which they themselves created, it slowly replaced Kannada as the language for conversations between intelligent people; definitely the language for any scientific topic. The English education system was nothing but an engine producing more and more people with this fatal inferiority complex, fit to serve the British crown. Those who came out of the system took pride in hating Kannada, making fun of Kannada and being able to speak English. The flawed arguments that English (as opposed to knowledge) is the strength based on which we can win global markets today, that English is the language of science and technology, stem from this very same inferiority complex continuing to pollute a Kannadiga’s blood. Although examples exist of countries like Japan, Israel, France, etc., which have all their systems in the language of the land, a Kannadiga is blind to this because of this second inferiority complex.

Samskruta enjoys a special place in Karnataka because of the huge corpus of spiritual literature which exists in it (not that we read or understand it). Almost every spiritual thinker of India – real or fake – has resorted to Samskruta as the language for his spiritual literature. This has been disastrous from the point of view of dissemination of true spiritual thinking among Kannadigas. Even today, most of Karnataka remains spiritually challenged because of this single mistake. Kannadigas have come to believe that spiritual literature cannot exist in Kannada, that our Gods understand only Samskruta! We are so spiritually blind and so mesmerized by Samskruta that we think anything and everything written in Samskruta is divine, that even the language and its grammar are divine and worth imitating in Kannada. It’s a pity that even our grammarians have bought into the flawed theory that Kannada – a Dravidian language – is derived from Samskruta, a theory proven totally wrong by linguists all over the world. This is our third inferiority complex.

The issue of Hindi (at best a budding language when it comes to age or achievement compared to Kannada) is more recent but reminiscent of British imperialism. Although there is no constitutional provision granting Hindi the status of "National language", Karnataka has been made to believe so. Hindi is merely – but undemocratically – the only official language of the Indian Union, but schoolchildren in Karnataka are taught the blatant lie that Hindi is the National language of India. The central government invests hundreds of crores of rupees every year to impose Hindi on Kannadigas in education and central government institutions, even banks, using every medium possible. In the name of urbanization, entertainment media has very tactfully imposed Hindi on Kannadigas and made us believe that real entertainment can exist only in Hindi. Slowly, therefore, the suicidal feeling that Kannada is "not enough" to get on to Mainstream India has crept into a Kannadiga’s thinking. Kannadigas have come to believe that Hindi is a more important language than their mother-tongue in India. This is our fourth inferiority complex.

Linguistic inferiority complex is draining the life-blood of Kannadigas, turning us into inferior individuals building an inferior Karnataka. It has already brought about a class divide in Karnataka. The "higher class" slights Kannada and Karnataka, experiences physical pain living in Karnataka, is devoid of self-respect, cannot compete with westerners in true intelligence because of having to use a foreign language, and is waiting in long visa queues to escape from reality. The "lower class" – which cannot slight Kannada and Karnataka – is removed from education, science and technology (due to English) and commerce (due to English/Hindi). Both classes are removed from spirituality (due to Samskruta). It is clear that linguistic inferiority complex must be rooted out from the mind of every Kannadiga if at all we wish to progress. There is no option but to think of ways in which Kannada can completely replace English in education, science and technology, and Samskruta in spirituality and religion. Hindi together with the baggage of lies must be removed from school syllabi and the constitutional priority of Kannada in Karnataka must instead be taught; Kannada must replace it in central government offices, banks and commercial institutions.

The concept of H- and L-Kannada: a disease called "diglossia"

There is widespread belief among Kannadigas that there are two types of Kannada, one of high prestige (H-Kannada) and one of low prestige (L-Kannada). The definition of what constitutes high prestige and what low prestige is nowhere written down, but somewhat implicitly understood by almost every Kannadiga, whether he belongs to the H-Kannada camp or the L-Kannada camp. The H-Kannada camp pats itself on the back that it uses the "correct" Kannada, while the L-Kannada camp simply deems itself to have been born with an impaired tongue.

This is a sociolinguistic phenomenon called "diglossia". In this short essay, we will show how Kannada's diglossia is detrimental to both the unity and progress of the Kannadiga people, then urge our readers to first wake up to this fact and second to stop either feeling a sense of pride for belonging to the H-tribe or a sense of impairment for belonging to the L-tribe. Both the feelings are false, and both break our unity and oneness of purpose.

H-Kannada is generally used for written Kannada (with the conspicuous exception of quotations or dialogue), as well as for any "decent" public usage -- such as in a public function or conference or meeting. H-Kannada has an abundance of Sanskrit words used without any modifications, while L-Kannada has very few Sanskrit words (with the handful borrowed Sanskrit words having been modified to suit the Kannada tongue) and has in general no difference between aspirated and unaspirated consonants unlike languages such as Sanskrit and Hindi. The lack of differentiation between aspirated and unaspirated consonants is a linguistic feature present in Kannada from thousands of years (from the days of Halagannada or old Kannada).

People of both the H and L tribes express discomfort if someone uses L-Kannada in situations such as public discourses or writing, considering the user to be unscholarly, uncouth and unpolished. In open defiance of glaring linguistic proofs, the H-tribe has even perpetuated the wrong theory that Kannada has been derived from Sanskrit. This wrong theory is implicitly assumed to be right by the H-tribe, and no proof is asked for. The fact that this unscientific behaviour stems from weak minds with lack of understanding of the basics of linguistics and lack of appreciation for the real worth of Sanskrit (which is, in one word, spirituality) is a different matter, and warrants a separate article.

The L-tribe, which is at the receiving end of the flawed theory that Kannada is derived from Sanskrit, stomachs it for want of erudition. The proof against this flawed theory, which is nothing less than a human population of nearly 4 crore Kannadigas, is openly ignored, openly neglected. This neglect, which overflows from the drawing board of flawed proofs into day-to-day neglect of 4 crore Kannadigas by the H-tribe is the first reason for the death of Kannadiga unity attributable to diglossia, and the first reason for Karnataka's stunted growth. The first is because neglect creates a rift between the neglecters and the neglected. The second is because the H-tribe which thinks it has the ability to take Karnataka forward in the right direction itself neglects nearly all of Karnataka, deeming it a relief from engaging with those whom it considers as "unscholarly, uncouth and unpolished".

Diglossia is a disease, nay an epidemic, which is slowly ripping apart Kannadiga from Kannadiga and destroying our oneness of purpose. It's high time the H-tribe stops pulling the legs of people from the L-tribe and instead works on ways of bridging the gap. It's high time the H-tribe stops patting on its own back thinking out of ignorance that it speaks the "real Kannada"! It's high time the L-tribe stops thinking of its version of Kannada as that of a lesser God. No, the Kannadiga tongue is golden and every way of speaking Kannada is to be worshipped and equally "real" and "correct"! There is no high, no low! It's all one and the same mother tongue! It's only an illusion that one version of Kannada is H and another L!

Arise O Kannadiga! Awake! Unite! Destroy the reason for our disunity! Destroy diglossia!