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हिन्दी दिवस

आज, 14 सितंबर को हिंदी दिवस के रूप में जाना जाता है। लेकिन अंग्रेजी के युग में, हम में से कितने इसे याद करने के लिए परेशान हैं। हम रोज हिंदी बोलते हैं, लेकिन हम इसे कितना महसूस करते हैं, हम इसे कितना महत्व देते हैं।

आइए, जानते हैं इसे

आज, जब हम अपने भारत के मानचित्र को देखते हैं, तो यह बहुत सुंदर दिखता है, लेकिन 15 अगस्त 1947 की आधी रात को यह संयुक्त नहीं था। आजादी के ठीक बाद, ऐसे कई राज्य थे जो स्वतंत्र भारत का हिस्सा नहीं बनना चाहते थे, बल्कि रियासतों के रूप में रहना चाहते थे; जैसे कि कश्मीर, हैदराबाद, जूनागढ़, मणिपुर, त्रिपुरा, गोवा।

उनमें से हैदराबाद का निजाम सैन्य शक्ति के माध्यम से भी अपने राज्य को बनाए रखने के लिए बहुत अडिग था। अब जरा भारत का नक्शा और उसके बीच मे एक गड्ढे की कल्पना करो!

इसलिए, एक ऐसा माध्यम महसूस हुआ जो पूरे देश को एकजुट कर सकता है। तब नेतृत्व ने माना कि भाषा ही देश को एकजुट करने का माध्यम हो सकती है। लेकिन यह एक आसान काम नहीं था, बल्कि एक चुनौतीपूर्ण रहा!

क्योंकि, विभिन्न क्षेत्रों के लोग अपनी भाषा का प्रचार करना चाहते थे - जैसे पंजाबी, बंगाली, उर्दू, मराठी, तमिल आदि।

सबसे शीर्ष पर हिंदी थी, क्योंकि स्वतंत्रता सेनानियों के अधिकांश नेता हिंदी में संवाद करते थे। लेकिन यह कभी भी हिंदी को राष्ट्रभाषा के रूप में स्थापित करने का कारण नहीं बन सका। इसे दक्षिण भारत के तमिल भाषी बहुमत (काज़गाम (द्रविड़ कज़गम), पेरियार और डीएमके जैसे कई समूहों ने हिंदी के राष्ट्रीय उपयोग का विरोध किया) और उर्दू भाषी उत्तर भारतीयों के प्रमुख विरोध का सामना करना पड़ा।

राजा राम मोहन राय, केशब चंद्र सेन और महर्षि दयानंद जैसे महान नेताओं की विशेषता वाले भारतीय पुनर्जागरण ने हिंदी के महत्व को याद किया और अपने अधिकांश साहित्यिक कार्यों को भी उसी भाषा में पूरा किया। वे उस समय हिंदी का समर्थन कर रहे थे।

बहुत पहले, भारत के स्वतंत्रता के संघर्ष के दौरान, महात्मा गांधी ने पहली बार हिंदी को देश की राष्ट्रीय भाषा बनाने के लिए आवाज़ उठाई थी। 1918 में हिंदी साहित्य सम्मेलन की अध्यक्षता करते हुए, गांधी ने हिंदी को राष्ट्रभाषा के रूप में देखने के अपने सपने के बारे में बात की।

बाद में 1925 के स्वतंत्रता संग्राम में, भारतीयों को एकजुट करने में हिंदी ने विशेष भूमिका निभाई है। गुरुदेव रवींद्रनाथ टैगोर ने हालांकि एक बंगला विद्वान होने के नाते देश के क्रांतिकारियों को जनता के साथ संवाद स्थापित करने के लिए हिंदी का उपयोग करने के लिए प्रेरित किया। यह उस समय की अवधि में भारत पर हिंदी के प्रभाव को दर्शाता है।

उपनिवेशवाद-विरोधी आंदोलन के दौरान, भाषा के मुद्दे पर हिंदुओं और मुसलमानों को एकजुट करने के प्रयास में, भारतीय राष्ट्रीय कांग्रेस ने हिंदुस्तानी, एक संकर भाषा जो हिंदी और उर्दू को मिश्रित करती है और उर्दू या देवनागरी लिपि में लिखी जाती है, पर जोर दिया। सांप्रदायिक एकता के लिए हिंदुस्तानी भाषा को बढ़ावा देने के लिए, भारतीय राष्ट्रीय कांग्रेस का नेतृत्व, महात्मा गांधी के मार्गदर्शन में, 1937 में शिक्षा की वर्धा योजना के साथ हुआ। इस योजना के तहत, जिसे 1938 में कांग्रेस के हरिपुरा अधिवेशन में समर्थन दिया गया था। हिंदी और उर्दू दोनों लिपि में लिखी जाने वाली हिंदुस्तानी में शिक्षा को बढ़ावा दिया जाना था।

वर्धा योजना का मुस्लिम लीग द्वारा विरोध किया गया, जो प्रतिक्रिया में पीरपुर रिपोर्ट के साथ सामने आया। यह रिपोर्ट शिक्षा की वर्धा योजना के लिए महत्वपूर्ण थी और हिंदुस्तानी को अस्तित्वहीन भाषा के रूप में खारिज कर दिया। रिपोर्ट और मुस्लिम लीग के नेतृत्व ने कहा कि उर्दू भारतीय मुसलमानों की एक भाषा थी, जिसे राष्ट्रीय स्तर पर प्रचारित किया जाना था। इस धर्म-आधारित भाषाई पहचान का प्रभाव इतना मजबूत था कि गैर-उर्दू भाषी प्रांतों के मुस्लिम भी उर्दू के पक्षधर थे (एक मजबूत समर्थक ए.के. फजलुल हक, लीग के एक बंगाली-भाषी नेता थे)।

1940 के दशक में, जब भारतीय संविधान सभा भाषा के मुद्दे पर चर्चा कर रही थी, तो शुरू में अधिकांश हिंदू सदस्य हिंदुस्तानी को एक राष्ट्रीय भाषा का दर्जा देने के लिए तैयार थे। हालांकि, कई ने विभाजन से संबंधित जारी हिंसा के कारण अपने पदों को बदल दिया। "अन्यता" और "उनकी भाषा" की भावना मजबूत हो गई। परिणामस्वरूप, हिंदू सांसदों ने हिंदी को भारत की राष्ट्रीय भाषा घोषित करने की मांग शुरू कर दी। दिवंगत इतिहासकार ग्रानविले ऑस्टिन ने लिखा है कि विभाजन ने हिंदुस्तानी को मार डाला और संविधान में अंग्रेजी और प्रांतीय भाषाओं की स्थिति को खतरे में डाल दिया।

स्वतंत्रता के बाद, "संस्कृत" हिंदी और "अरबी" उर्दू के प्रयासों ने दो भाषाओं के बीच दरार को और गहरा कर दिया है।

बाद में, दक्षिण से कोंडा वेंकापय्या पंतुलु, तुंगतुरी प्रकाशम पंतुलु, बेजवाड़ा गोपालरेड्डी और स्वामी रामानंद तीर्थ जैसे स्वतंत्रता सेनानियों ने दक्षिण भारत हिंदी प्रचार सभा की स्थापना के लिए बहुत काम किया, जिसने न केवल हिंदी को बढ़ावा दिया, बल्कि बड़ी संख्या में हिंदी शिक्षक, अनुवादक और प्रचारकों भी तैयार किए हैं।

आजादी के बाद, हमारे भारत को एकजुट करने के लिए, 14-09-1949 को भारत के प्रशंसित हिंदी-लेखक, बेहर राजेंद्र सिम्हा के 50 वें जन्मदिन को मनाने के लिए, हिंदी को भारतीय गणतंत्र की आधिकारिक भाषा के रूप में अपनाया गया, इसे "हिंदी-दिवस" ​​के रूप में मनाया जाता है। तब से भारतीय संविधा�� के अनुच्छेद 343 के तहत भारत की संविधान सभा द्वारा भारतीय गणतंत्र की दो आधिकारिक भाषाओं में से एक के रूप में देवनागरी लिपि में लिखी गई हिंदी को अपनाने के लिए।

आज, हमारे बीच में, अंग्रेजी से बेहतर हिंदी में, क्योंकि यह सबसे स्वीकार्य है। लेकिन सच्चाई वेल से परे है।

जबकि अंग्रेजी ने कई देशों में फैलकर अपना शीर्ष स्थान अर्जित किया है, जबकि एक ही राष्ट्र के रूप में हिंदी ने दुनिया भर के 250 मिलियन से अधिक लोगों को प्रभावित किया है, और यह 4 सबसे अधिक बोली जाने वाली भाषा है।

जबकि कई देशों ने अपनी भाषा अर्थात अपनी भाषा को अपनाकर दुनिया में अपनी मुद्रा को विकसित किया है। चीन, जापान, फ्रांस, जर्मनी, रूस, इंग्लैंड और कई।

लेकिन हम भारतीय अभी भी हिंदी में काम करने में संकोच करते हैं, हालांकि आने वाले वर्षों में हम दुनिया में सबसे अधिक आबादी वाले देश होंगे।

मेरा अंग्रेजी में अवहेलना करने का कोई इरादा नहीं है, लेकिन हमारी अपनी भाषा का महत्व है। जब भी हम लोगों ने कहा कि देशों में आते हैं, हम पाते हैं कि उनके स्वर अपनी भाषा से संबंधित हैं।

लेकिन जब हम भारतीय शैली में एक भारतीय बोलने वाली अंग्रेजी पाते हैं या देसी शैली में हम उनका मजाक उड़ाते हैं, लेकिन पाखंडी रूप से हम एक स्पेनिश अंग्रेजी की प्रशंसा करते हैं।

हमारी हिंदी का सम्मान करने के लिए, हमें सिर्फ इसे महसूस करने की जरूरत है। यह कठिन भाषा नहीं है।

हिंदी दिवस!

जय हिंद 🇮🇳🇮🇳🇮🇳🇮🇳🇮🇳

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Hindi Diwas

Today, on 14th September is known as Hindi Diwas. But in the era of English, how many of us bother to even remember it. We  speak Hindi everyday, but how much we feel it, how much we give importance to it.

Come, let's know the importance of Hindi in English.

Today, when we look at our India Map, it looks so beautiful, but it was not so United on the midnight of 15 August 1947. Just after Independence, there were number of states who didn't want to be part of independent India, rather remain as princerly states; such as Kashmir, Hyderabad, Junagadh, Manipur, Tripura, Goa.

Among them Hyderabad's Nizam was very adamant to retain his state even through military power. Now just imagine India Map and the dark plot in the middle !

So, there felt a medium which could unite the entire nation. The leadership then recognized that the language could only be a medium to unite the country. But it was not an easy task, rather a daunting one ! 

Because, people from different regions wanted to promote their own language - like Punjabi, Bengali, Urdu, Marathi, Tamil etc.

On the top was Hindi, because most of the leaders from freedom fighters used to communicate in Hindi. But it could never be a reason to establish Hindi as national language. It faced major protest from Tamil Speaking majority from South India ( several groups like Kazhagam (Dravidar Kazhagam), Periyar, and DMK who opposed Hindi’s use nationally) and Urdu Speaking North Indians.

Indian Renaissance featuring great leaders like Raja Ram Mohan Roy, Keshab Chandra Sen and Maharishi Dayanand recalled the importance of Hindi and also completed most of their literary works in the same language. They were avidly supporting Hindi at that time.

Long back, during India’s struggle for independence, Mahatma Gandhi first voiced for making Hindi the national language of the country. Chairing the Hindi literature conference in 1918, Gandhi talked about his dream of seeing Hindi as the national language. 

Later in the freedom struggle post 1925, Hindi has played a special role in uniting Indians together. Gurudev Rabindranath Tagore although being a Bangla scholar insisted the country’s revolutionaries to use Hindi for communicating with the masses. This shows the effect of Hindi on India at that period of time.

During the anti-colonial movement, in an attempt to unite Hindus and Muslims over language issue, the Indian National Congress insisted on the use of Hindustani, a hybrid language that mixed Hindi and Urdu and was written in either Urdu or Devanagari script. To promote the Hindustani language for communal unity, the Indian National Congress leadership, under the guidance of Mahatma Gandhi, came up with the Wardha Scheme of Education in 1937.  Under this plan, which was endorsed at the Haripura session of the Congress in 1938, education was to be promoted in Hindustani written in both Hindi and Urdu script.

The Wardha scheme was opposed by the Muslim League, which came out with the Pirpur report in response. The report was critical to the Wardha Scheme of Education and dismissed Hindustani as non-existent language. Both the report and the Muslim League’s leadership asserted that Urdu was a language of Indian Muslims, which had to be promoted at the national level. The effect of this religion-based linguistic identity was so strong that even Muslims from non-Urdu speaking provinces favored Urdu (one strong supporter was A.K. Fazlul Haq, a Bengali-speaking leader of the League).

In the 1940s, when the Indian constituent assembly was discussing the language issue, a majority of Hindu members were initially willing to give Hindustani the status of a national language. However, many changed their positions due to the then ongoing violence related to the partition. The sense of “otherness” and “their language” became stronger. As a result, Hindu lawmakers started demanding that Hindi be declared as the national language of India. Late historian Granville Austin has written that partition killed Hindustani and endangered the position of English and the provincial languages in the constitution. 

Post-independence, attempts to “Sanskritize” Hindi and “Arabize” Urdu have further deepened the rift between the two languages.

Later, freedom fighters such as Konda Venkapapayya Pantulu, Tungturi Prakasham Pantulu, Bejawada Gopalreddy and Swami Ramanand Tirtha from South did great work to establish  Dakshina Bharat Hindi Prachar Sabha which has not only promoted Hindi but also prepared a large number of Hindi teachers, translators and publicists.

After Independence, to unite our India, on 14-09-1949 to celebrate the 50th birthday of Beohar Rajendra Simha, the acclaimed Hindi-stalwart, Hindi was adopted as the Official Language of Republic of India, celebrating it as "Hindi-Day" since then to commemorate the adoption of Hindi written in Devanagari script as one of the two official languages of the Republic of India by Constituent Assembly of India Under the Article 343 of the Indian Constitution.

Today, few among us, from within treat English superior to Hindi just because it looks most acceptable. But the truth is beyond the Vail.

While English has earned its top position by spreading over many countries, whereas Hindi as a single nation has impacted more than 250 million people all around the world world, and it is 4th most spoken language.

While many of the countries have developed and made their currency stronger in the world by adopting their own language viz. China, Japan, France, Germany, Russia, England and many.

But we Indians still hesitate to work in Hindi, though in coming years we will be most populated country in the world.

I have no intention to disregard English, but to show importance of our own language. Whenever we come across to the people said countries, we find their tones belong to their own language.

But when we find an Indian speaking English in Indian style or rather Desi Style we make fun of him, but hypocritically we praise a Spanish English.

To respect our Hindi, we just need to feel it. It is not a tough language.

Hindi Diwas !

Jai Hind 🇮🇳🇮🇳🇮🇳🇮🇳🇮🇳

[authormukesh-blog]

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Wait For Your Turn

Prologue

6.25 P.M.

This darkness has no form, it takes shape at a point where eyes can see no more, stretching into nothingness, far far beyond. August is gloomy & rainy. Intermittent thunders light up the melting horizon. The evening is pouring the deepest shade of black into the night sky, covered with formidable clouds. And below, the busy Grand Trunk Road spotted with racing vehicles looks like a sparkling diamond necklace, illuminant and bright in contrast to the blackness flowing on either side of the road.

On this road, 19 kilometers from Dankuni a truck driver is struggling to see what lay ahead of his vehicle. He turns on the wiper in a futile attempt to clear off the countless drops on his windshield., . He pops his head out of the window trying to look up at the sky. It is foggy and dense. A few drops fall on his face and trickles down his grey beard.

“Damn! it’s going to be heavy shower” he curses as he pulls his head inside. But his words are downed in the cacophony of the sudden horn, the grind of the gyrating wheels. He then yells at his helper, who was drooping drowsily against the left window, “never sleep sitting beside driver. This is the first principle of driving. When will you learn this goddam thing, you moron?” Shaken out of his slumber, he immediately straightens his posture and tries hard to fix his blurry eye on the road where the headlight touches the moist black pitch.

The helper has become quite inured to his irritable, cranky ever-clamant master, who never misses a chance to snub him. “Old grump”, he mutters under his breath. But the 65 years old man on his right with a crimson shine on his face is a rambo in a turban. He can still drive a fully loaded truck from Pathankot to Madras by himself at a stretch. All he needs is the refueling of the oil tank and his own tank. The helper glances at his hemispheric stomach and then turns his gaze outside, ignoring his chiding.

He stuck his head out of the window and a strong dash of moist wind slapped his face pushing his head inside. “Not only the rain, but there’s a storm coming too” he cries out in sudden realization.

Sardarji snaps at him with an angry look, his teeth clenching behind his enormous moustache, “O…really!?”

The truck is running smoothly on wet road, maintaining distance of a kilometer with an oil tanker speeding before it. He is exercising slow, but steady pressure on the accelerator, maneuvering the wheel carefully. The faulty speedometer in this two-decade-old truck model has stopped functioning, but his forty years of driving experience told him the arrow should be touching 70kmph.

Suddenly, the truck moves left on its own against the wish of the driver. Sardar instantly tightens his grip over the steering wheel and clockwise turning it.

Ten kilometer behind , a black Bajaj Avenger is racing almost at 100 kmph. The icy breeze sneaking through young man’s shirt makes him feel easy, sniffing him the rainfall some nearby distant, though it doesn’t give the pleasure once he shared, the peace he felt in that sleeping journey, the completeness without her.

A palpitating thought has been lingering around his mind since he left Burdwan forty minutes ago. Just as he was about to start his bike, his phone rang and a name that he had never forgotten appeared on the screen. And then the briefest call ensued.

The familiar, but a serene voice on other side of the call had asked, “can we meet? I have a few things that belong to you. I need to return them.”

The fear of losing her emerged in his eyes as he saw himself in the looking glass. His drying voice could only answer, “I will try.”

He has always neglected her emotions, her little wishes, her selfless caring gestures. This was not because an inhumane demon resides in him, but because an apprehension that surrounds him all around – that he would fall in love her.

Would I, that thought still perplexes him as he fixes his vision on the road through the gap of helmet.

He had always wished her to disappear from his life. Now she is going to fulfill his wish. Why is he unable to accept it? It is tearing him apart, from the inside.

He can’t fall in love? Or has he?

She loves him for what he is, not for what he pretends to be.

I love her too. He confesses.

Suddenly he realizes that the breeze is getting stronger and droplets from the sky have started to drizzle over him. In a few minutes, his shirt gets wet. The rain and wind gets wilder and the branches of trees on either side started colliding with each other. The headlights of giant vehicles, coming from opposite direction flash hard and when it mixes up with thunderbolts, the vision becomes unclear.

The cars coming from behind are racing past him quickly, their horns adding to the sound of thunder. He circles his gaze all around in search of shelter, but finds nothing on the highway. He swings the accelerator.

The storm only gets stronger. A gush of wind slaps him and disbalances his bike. In an instant, he fears he will lose control. At a distance amidst the fog and rain, he could see a truck moving at a decent velocity.

It is better to use the truck as shelter against this demonic storm. He thinks.

As soon as the bike reaches near the truck, the big vehicle suddenly curves to its left and then straightens, moving to the right. Trying to overtake from the wrong side. Ignoring it, he takes the bike little left, placing it on the left of moving truck and then loosens the grip on accelerator, slowing down the wheels. Now both vehicles are moving side by side.

Sardarji and his helper have become anxious as their vehicle has gone out of their control on several times in last few minutes.

…..and then, the wheel turns again, taking Sardarji by surprise.

“The road is slippery in the rain.” The helper declares.

But, it doesn’t make sense. The driver says, “Other vehicles are moving too. and I have ages of experience…..” Suddenly a smell fills his nose. It is a familiar one. “can you smell it?”

The helper takes only a second to realize, “yes. It’s petrol.” A dangerous realization floods in his mind. He pops his head out into the storm and sees a two-wheeler pacing beside them. As he looks on the road in front of him, he sees shoal liquid shapes on wet road shining under headlight and racing behind. “IT’S ALL DRAINING OUT THERE.”

The driver leans in front and wipes the condensed drops on the interior of the windscreen, in an attempt to clear out his foggy vision. The shallow forms appear and disappear. “Is it pouring out from?”

“I think….from there.” The helper points at the oil tanker that is preceding them.

Almost simultaneously there on left side Bajaj Avenger stumbles & slips, but rider’s skill saves it from skidding. The young man too smells and identified the liquid pouring off the tanker. “Oh god..!” his scream loses its force in the howling wind.

Few meters ahead, the moving oil tanker whose safety valve had been just trickling a while ago, now has started leaking a thick current. The truck behind it is getting disbalanced at frequent intervals.

“We have to stop it.” Sardarji calls out aloud, “they are not aware. The oil is draining out. All vehicles coming behind us will burn out.” He presses accelerator, honking constantly.

As the truck approaches the oil tanker, the young man’s bike scuttles simultaneously., Eyeing a big ditch on left and oily forms in front of it he decides to get past the tanker before the truck does. Otherwise the sheer force of the open storm and slippery oil…Mere the thought gives him shuddering feel.

Both vehicles, ignoring each other, are pacing almost at same the speed. In a few seconds truck reaches closer. Sardarji, furious on tanker driver, pops his head out, cruel air hitting his right temple, “O…behan de take….gaddi rok…….saara tel gir….r.a.h…a” his voice loses its reach as the truck’s wheel suddenly slips away to extreme left and steering swings out of control. In moment, the truck was rotating. The front hit the Black Bajaj Avenger and its back collided with the oil tanker, producing an enormous thud, consuming the crunch of scrawling bike.

The bike leaps into the air big leap before landing on the road, dragging through the mud on the edges, dribbling over slope that stretches downward into seven feet ditch. The young man, scribbling under the weight of falling two-wheeler, sees the radar less whirling truck following him and his eyes meet horrified sardar’s eyes as the truck momentarily pauses over edge, tyres rotating in the air. He falls over the muddy field and bike dumps over him. His body sears scathing pain inside and he helplessly watches the oil tanker, propelled by the collision of the truck, climbing over the granite divider, first marches few meters and then tumbles over the road after sparkling down the concrete pitch. Petrol spreads all around.

The lurching truck finally loses its balance and rolls over muddy slope. I’m gone. He sees the truck bulldozing towards him. In an instant, the truck heaps over him, quashing down the bike and he feels something pricking through his stomach, tearing apart the intestinal coil inside, nailing him the tribulation of eternity.

Over the road, the fallen oil tanker explodes like a detonator and the sky dazzles like gold as the flame balloons up in the air. The world starts getting darker after his vision meets the firewall.

And then…all goes black.