It is not that she does not speak the language any longer. I have heard her use it in her usually muted prayers. When she speaks to her relatives, she uses words I never have heard before. I KNOW she KNOWS one of her native tongues very well. Both, actually, as she speaks Punjabi as well.
Her cousin and I were joking about this over a phone conversation once.
Naveeda: Jab bhi meiN ammi ke saath Urdu maiN baat karti hooN, voh angrezi maiN jawaab deti haiN.
Maamoo: Jab bhi meiN baji ke saath Punjabi maiN baat karta hooN, voh Urdu maiN jawaab deti haiN.It seems neither of us can win! She replies in English to my Urdu, and in Urdu to his Punjabi. And these days if we do speak in Urdu, it is more like Urdenglish.
This does not happen with us immigrants only. It happens with Pakistanis who have been educated in Pakistan (and live in Pakistan). Especially in English medium schools that at least when I was in school, were still operating more or less on a British system. Listen to some of their interviews. They are never entirely in Urdu.
When we left Pakistan in 1979 and arrived in a very small town in Amreeka (after a month in Canada), I always had this mix of amusement and frustration with people who commented on how well I spoke English (among other assumptions they made). For my part, I always have wished I could speak Urdu and Punjabi better.
***
Not that I did not understand my mother's predicament before, but I understand it much better after having studied various languages only to lose most or all of what I learned because I hardly ever used it.
I recently had a job interview where I was tested in Spanish. I did my undergraduate degree in Romance Languages (French and Spanish), I thought I was going to do graduate work in Spanish but switched to English literature instead. I used Spanish whenever I could once I was in grad school because I did not want to lose it, but those I knew who spoke it left, and the less I used it, the more my vocabulary slipped, to the point where I could still say I was fluent, but not even close to native speaker fluent.
I did not do all that well in the Spanish test, though I suspect that is not the only reason I did not get the job.
My mother lives in a small town where there are hardly any Pakistanis or Indians. She speaks in English most of the time. She thinks in English. Urdu does not come to her immediately when anyone speaks to her, not even her relatives. It is simply easier for her to speak in English but it often presents a problem for some of us (okay maybe just me) who want to keep our languages going for fear we may lose them. I never was a good student in Urdu as it was, but I am the only one of my siblings who can read Urdu in nastaliq (the script) without having to sound out the letters (even if adabi/journalistic Urdu will always be problematic for me). I am the only one who studied Urdu until Class IX. It would be a shame to wake up one morning and have it all disappear.
Which is why when South Asian chat rooms and social networking sites came along, I was only too happy to be a part of them. Until the Indo-Pak name calling and the chest-thumping patriotism got to the point where I had to say khudahafiz, rabb rakkha, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.
***
The other day my father and I were having a conversation, mostly in English. And he inserted the word "seTh" in one of the topics. Then as he is wont to do, he asked me if I knew what the word meant. I told him I did, which is never enough for him because then he wants me to tell him WHAT the word means. I began telling him in Urdu, and he interrupts, "Urdu se angrezi maiN tarjumah karo!"
I gave him the wrong answer. In my head I know what a "seTh" is, but at least the answer I gave him was related.
***
The previous day, I told my mother I wanted to speak with her in Urdu. I tried to explain to her that I was afraid that if I did not speak it often enough, or hear it often enough, it was going to slip away from me. She gave me the usual it does not come easy to me bit. I began speaking to her. She immediately replied in English.
"Mommy! Urdu maiN baat kareN!"
"No." She said, "I cannot do it on command. I am not going to."
You can lead a mother to Urdu, but you cannot make her speak!
Chalo, there is always YouTube. Until I move back to a bigger city, that is.
