Scripting a squabble
Konkani writer Pundalik Naik has managed to dredge up an old and very bitter dispute with his outspoken opposition to the bifurcation of the Konkani literary awards by the Kala Academy into two separate categories, one for writers in Devanagari, and the other for the Roman script. Naik and his supporters in the Goa Konkani Akademi (GKA) over which he presides, are targeting Kala Academy chairman Vishnu Wagh who’s being accused of taking a “politically motivated” decision to institute separate categories for Devanagari and Romi Konkani writing. Backed by another veteran Konkani writer Nagesh Karmali and Bhushan Bhave, Naik means to take the matter all the way up to the seat of power in Altinho, to have the Chief Minister adjudicate on the matter. The GKA believes it has the sole right to decide and judge on matters related to the Konkani language, be they the publication of books, the selection for awards and the formulation of government policy.
Like religion, language has been a potent, divisive tool in most societies. In this case, we’re talking of the subtext of a language, the dual scripts that prevail in this State, though only the Devanagari is officially recognised.
As most Goans are aware, Konkani has been through a long and arduous historical past to get where it is today, recognised as the official language of the State and scripted in the Eighth Schedule of the Constitution. Though the proselytising missionaries delved into an intense study of the Konkani language in the early 16th century which would serve them as a tool for communication and the propagation of the Word, they believed the suppression of the local language would keep the converted away from the non Christian.
“Urged by the Franciscans, the Portuguese viceroy forbade the use of Konkani on 27 June 1684 and decreed that within three years, the local people in general would speak the Portuguese tongue. They were to be required to use it in all their contacts and contracts made in Portuguese territories. The penalties for violation would be imprisonment. The decree was confirmed by the king on 17 March 1687,” historical accounts tell us.
In modern times it took a committee of linguistic experts set up under the Sahitya Akademi in 1975 to rule that Konkani was indeed an independent language and not merely a dialect of Marathi, as the chauvinistic proponents of that language claimed. Official language status to Konkani would arrive more than a decade later after a bill was passed in the Goa Assembly in 1987. But this would not be without unprecedented public support, massive agitations, rancour, political brainstorming and a huge compromise on the part of the Catholic community that agreed to forgo the dual script formula for the sake of a peaceful resolution of the language dispute and the future of Konkani.
Years later, the compromise would leave many Goans feeling too much had been given away to Marathi, and that the language enjoys a status practically on par with Konkani in Devanagari. Thousands of Catholics in Goa are still keyed into Romi Konkani. It sustains the vernacular liturgy in Church and a very vibrant and growing body of hymns and music. It is the heart and soul of the tiatr which is as Goan and Konkani as it can get.
Perhaps Kala Academy chairman Vishnu Wagh does indeed have a political motive in wanting to encourage Romi Konkani writers with a separate award. He does after all have a large segment of Catholic voters in the Santo Andre constituency. Some politically minded people might also accuse him of being casteist in crossing the path of the venerable Devanagari lobby. But there is also the possibility that Wagh, who has a large body of Marathi plays to his credit, is merely being more modern and liberal in his outlook. After all encouraging more voices, more ideas and new thinking—in whatever language or script—can only be a good thing for a pulsating culture of writing.
