Call me 'Rosebud'

"Call me Rosebud", the little one chirped yesterday.

When I asked her why, she informed me that everyone has to have a nickname. But why Rosebud?

Because this is a nice name. I like it.

The little one gets quite talkative when she goes to bed. Nudge her anytime earlier and she has forgotten what her day was like.

Not at bedtime. Then she wants to talk about who she played with, who she had a fight with and what all she learned during the day.

Her Hindi has developed remarkably in the 11 months she has spent in Delhi. Her vocabulary is quite extensive as she hears Hindi at home, with friends and in school.

Such is her confidence that I am frequently corrected when telling a bedtime story - Lion nahin Sher" (It's Sher, not Lion), "Clever nahin Chaalak" (It's Chaalak, not Clever) and Dark nahin Andhera (It's Andhera, not Dark).

People of my generation grew up caught between Hindi and English. The former was the language you grew up with; the latter you had to learn to do well in life.

Somewhere, our language turned into HinGlish - with the structure and shape of Hindi but peppered liberally with English words.

This has since taken shape of HinUrGlish, bringing Urdu into the mix as well. Hindi TV channels have been a big promoter of this. Quite often, it results in presenters using Hindi or Urdu words where they make no sense or distort the sense.

However, this hasn't dampened the enthusiasm for the language. It now is part of the popular culture, shaping some of best marketing slogans - like Youngistan Ka Wow (Pepsi), Taste Bhi Health Bhi (Nestle) and Khushiyon Ki Home Delivery (Dominos).

So how come my little one is swimming in a different direction?

Probably because at her age, the capacity to learn is immense. At school, she is being taught both Hindi and English. Phonetic English is as close as it goes to teaching Hindi. The alphabets are taught the way they are pronounced and the words come together based on sounds of individual alphabets.

For us, it was A, B, C. For her, it is Aa, Ba, Ka. Just like Hindi, where the alphabet are identified in the same way they are pronounced. So, CAT happens when the sounds Ka-Aa-T come together, not because of See, Aye and Tee.

With the structure and sound so similar, it seems her brain has created two compartments. One for Hindi and the other for English. Any unfamiliar sound, as in the use of a Hindi word in English or vice-versa, seems jarrring to her - assuming she knows the equivalent Hindi word.

An interesting side-effect is that her British English diction has nearly disappeared. It is an interesting mix of American and Indian English dictions.

I forgot to ask her whether her new nick-name will be Rose-bud or a Rrrrrrose-buuudd?