A really interesting article and lovely to read of your experience. My father was raised in Denmark until age 12 but had lost most of his ability to speak Danish by his late 30’s when we took a family visit there. In comparison, my Russian friend still speaks her mother tongue fluently thanks to the internet which enables her to Skype with her family every day, despite living here over 25 years. I do think it’s held back her English speaking skills though. It makes me wonder if you can fully master a new language if you still speak and think mostly in your native tongue.
Thanks so much, Jenny! That story about your dad and your Russian friend brings up such an interesting point on how tech — like daily Skype calls — can keep a language alive in ways that weren’t possible even a decade ago. I do think I've managed to keep Marathi alive mainly by being able to speak to my parents often despite the distance.
And yes, I often wonder about the reverse too: how much fluency in a new language is shaped by what you're still thinking and feeling in the old one. So much of this is emotional, not just linguistic ... and as they say: "You win some, you lose some!"
"Some things resist translation not because they’re complex but because they’re embodied. I know every word of some mantras whispered in temples — chants in Sanskrit and Marathi etched into my memory long before I understood the meanings behind those syllables. They don’t need explanation for they emerge from the body, fluent, automatic, and untranslatable.
Could relate to so much in this piece—I moved from India to Toronto, so I understand the experience of split selves and existing in this in-between space between two languages, two cultures, two big chunks of possibilities, especially exacerbated by the East/West division. I'm not sure if the tension will fully ever leave; maybe it just becomes integrated and moves you to move in unexpected ways at different times in your life?
Also, good luck with the book! Such an exciting time I imagine.
Esha, thank you so much! Yes, definitely know what you mean by the “chunks of possibilities” that come with the tension never fully leaving. I’m beginning to think that too — that the goal isn’t to resolve it but to let it shift and guide us through different phases of life. Wishing you ease with your own in-between space, and thanks so much for the kind words about the book. Yes, exciting and daunting in equal measure!
A really interesting article and lovely to read of your experience. My father was raised in Denmark until age 12 but had lost most of his ability to speak Danish by his late 30’s when we took a family visit there. In comparison, my Russian friend still speaks her mother tongue fluently thanks to the internet which enables her to Skype with her family every day, despite living here over 25 years. I do think it’s held back her English speaking skills though. It makes me wonder if you can fully master a new language if you still speak and think mostly in your native tongue.
Thanks so much, Jenny! That story about your dad and your Russian friend brings up such an interesting point on how tech — like daily Skype calls — can keep a language alive in ways that weren’t possible even a decade ago. I do think I've managed to keep Marathi alive mainly by being able to speak to my parents often despite the distance.
And yes, I often wonder about the reverse too: how much fluency in a new language is shaped by what you're still thinking and feeling in the old one. So much of this is emotional, not just linguistic ... and as they say: "You win some, you lose some!"
"Some things resist translation not because they’re complex but because they’re embodied. I know every word of some mantras whispered in temples — chants in Sanskrit and Marathi etched into my memory long before I understood the meanings behind those syllables. They don’t need explanation for they emerge from the body, fluent, automatic, and untranslatable.
How do you explain that?" I hear you Nishad!
Thanks so much Melanie! Really glad it resonated with you!
Could relate to so much in this piece—I moved from India to Toronto, so I understand the experience of split selves and existing in this in-between space between two languages, two cultures, two big chunks of possibilities, especially exacerbated by the East/West division. I'm not sure if the tension will fully ever leave; maybe it just becomes integrated and moves you to move in unexpected ways at different times in your life?
Also, good luck with the book! Such an exciting time I imagine.
Esha, thank you so much! Yes, definitely know what you mean by the “chunks of possibilities” that come with the tension never fully leaving. I’m beginning to think that too — that the goal isn’t to resolve it but to let it shift and guide us through different phases of life. Wishing you ease with your own in-between space, and thanks so much for the kind words about the book. Yes, exciting and daunting in equal measure!
Beautiful. Thank you both. 🙏🏻