Tuesday, June 03, 2008

A look at the shifting usages of the Tamil language in Sri Lanka today : from a theatrical perspective

A look at the shifting usages of the Tamil language in Sri Lanka today : from a theatrical perspective

Sivagnanam Jeyasankar

Jeyasankar was born and grew up in Jaffna, Sri Lanka, and graduated in Drama and Theatre Arts from the University of Jaffna where he was a temporary assistant lecturer in these subjects for two years. He later taught at Eastern University, in Batticaloa. As a “person and a theatre person” as he describes himself, he is, through the educational workshops he conducts all over the country, and in India, in continual contact with the various groups who suffer from displacement as a result of the fighting in Sri Lanka; and he brings a highly tuned ear and informed understanding to the way the Tamil language is shifting all the time and adapting itself in its everyday usages to disruptive conditions that, amongst many other effects, throw together people from different regions and different dialect groups who might otherwise never have come into contact.




This paper that represents a journey through the landscape of displacement and diaspora, with especial reference throughout to usage and variations in current spoken Tamil in Sri Lanka. Jeyasankar shared with the members of the conference his passionately held belief in theatre as an instrument for social change, vividly described the uprooted and uncertain life of the war torn country, and made mention of administrative policies with regard to language as well as to developments in education.





The basic question in this regard is, are we going to celebrate the differences in languages, or are we willing to opt for a standard language that would relieve us of the burden of hierarchical varieties? Or shall we just leave it to market forces to restructure everything?

From Jaffna to Batticaloa is only 500 km. but in this time of war it takes three or four days and nights to cover the distance, most of the time under the surveillance of koalmoody:

‘koalmoody’, informers from the air, as helicopters are popularly called in the “liberated areas” occupied by the militants. If the cry of ‘keli’ - heli goes up among Tamils, then everyone will know there is an alert. Bomper-bomber or sahadai - a converted cargo plane, is used to drop locally made peepa kundu - barrel bombs,and in emergency, to throw human waste. Sahadai is a big, slow moving wooden vehicle used to carry gods and godesses in Hindu temples, and the converted cargo plane is like a ‘sahadai’ in the sky, not because of its contents but because of its size and mobility.

It is relevant to mention a joke about a bomber and bombing at this juncture. One person says to another, "'Eay- hey- look there, it’s bomping". The other one replies, " It’s not bomping, "b" is silent”. The first one corrects himself "oh, its oomping” -to suck , although most derogatory this word is, perhaps regrettably, frequently used.

Military boarders, check posts and check points have to be crossed so often that chekin is a popular term for "checking" among Tamils in Sri Lanka. There are sooniya pirathesangal- no-man's lands, areas with warning boards saying kannivedi kavanam, “beware of landmines”. People say ulavaalikal kavanam-beware of spys and I or eye for intelligence is also very commonly used. During the practice of parading suspects in front of mundams- persons already arrested, or informers used by the security forces to identify 'terrorists ' The mundams cover their heads with sacks or cloths to hide their identity and are called Mundam which means body without head, commonly used to denote people doing unintelligent things. In domestic life mundam is often used by a husband to his wife and is frequently to servants too. This already oppressive word now gains tremendous flavour; it terrifies people, even in their dreams. mundam varuthu- mundam is coming; mundam/mundankal kidakkutha- there are bodies without heads over there, is an oft heard remark these days.

Tamils mostly live in the north and in the east-northeastern provinces of Sri Lanka: malaiyaha makal ,upcountry Tamils in the central province, melaha makkal , Colombo Tamils in the western province, and a dense population of Tamil speaking Muslims in the east, in the north, and all over Sri Lanka. These are the people who are responsible for the spread of the Tamil language to every corner of Sri Lanka.

The Burgher community, particularly in the eastern province, and the Memon/Malay communities in the western province are the most minor among the minorities. Another interesting feature is that modern Sri Lankan politics, based on those of ancient Ceylon, divide the Veddha people into Sinhala Veddhas and Tamil Veddahas.

The name Sri Lanka itself has to do with the politics of the Tamil language in Sri Lanka: the constitutional change of 1972 brought not only a new face to the country but a new name to it too. Even the labels of popular Ceylon tea were reprinted to read Srilankan tea. But in Tamil, Ilangai remains unchanged. All official documents are in English in Sri Lanka and if something is in Tamil it's Ilangai: this may be a minor practice in our daily life but the politics hidden in it are not minor.

There are a variety of dialects among Sri Lankan Tamils. The dialects of the Northeastern province differ from one another according to region, such as Jaffna, Kilinochi, Mullaitivu, Mannar and Vavuniya in the north, and Batticaloa, Trincomalle and Ampara in the east.

Colombo and Negombo in the western province, Kandy, Matale and Nuwara Eliya in the central province, Baddulle in the Uva province and Puttlam in the northwestern province, are comparatively densely populated with Tamils and experience the inter- and intra-regional differences of Tamil dialacts.

A few glimpses of words and meanings should be enough to portray the differences, and the hierarchical nature, of dialects among the Tamils of Sri Lanka. The varieties in tone, style and body language in communication is beyond the capacity of the written texts to record.

Pachchathanniyil paniyaram suduthal- toasting sweets in water, is a saying popular among the Tamils of Jaffna, but when it was used in a theatre workshop Batticaloa in the east, the usage made the participants uneasy. It was a terrible shock to the director to find that paniyaram is used in the villages of the area to denote the sexual organ of women.

Tamils in the north ridicule easterners for using the word kiruhi/kiruhu - turn around or to turn, and, in the same way, easterners ridicule northerners for using penththu to mean later, when for easterners it means, to ease; they also laugh at avai and uvai –they, as popularly used by Jaffna Tamils.

The popular usage of avai, ivai and uvai among Jaffna Tamils, to express different hierarchial and distancing nuances of the word, they, exposes the exclusive nature of Jaffna society; these same words are used by people of other regions to humiliate Jaffna people.

The words nee, neer and neengal – you, in different shades of meaning are in frequent use among Jaffna Tamils, but the word neer is adroitly used to maintain a middle path in communication between informal and formal.

Tamil soldiers of the Indian Peace Keeping Force (IPFK) made a positive impression on Sri Lankan Tamils, but their casual use of the word nee – you, made people so addressed uneasy and irritated because it is used for inferiors, whether of lower caste or in lower grade positions. The familiar Hindi expression challo challo, which was frequently used by the IPKF soldiers when hitting or chasing people, was in popular use during that period among Tamils, both in earnest and jokingly.

The variety of the upcountry Tamils is another unique feature we have to look into. Upcountry Tamils who were brought to Ceylon by the East Indian Company as cheap labour on the tea estates, have about three hundred years of history in Sri Lanka. Their dialect is regarded as the language of servants; not only were they enslaved by the East Indian Company but they were also used as low paid servants by high caste Tamils of Jaffna.

In popular drama, their dialect is used for servants and comic characters, eg: aamanka iya, varenka iya -with slavish body language. But at the same time creative writers are using that dialect in works published in Tamil Nadu, and Sri Lanka, where South Indian Tamils reigned over the editorial policies of the print media during the 1950s and 60s.

The political emergence of the minorities-within-minorities has liberated them to a certain extent. A particular achievement of the Tamils of Indian origin is the establishment of the name "upcountry Tamils" instead of their traditional label, thoaddakaaddaar- those who work on the tea estates.

People from other regions call Jaffna people, yarlpaani, yarlppaanam being the Tamil version of Jaffna. Paani-syrup, and panagkoddai- palmyra seed, denote narrow mindedness or the ‘frog in the well’ mentality, whereas panai - the palmyra tree, emerged as the symbol of resistance in the war and is an important symbol in art and literary works about the war.

Attempts, such as those already mentioned, to establish superiority over others, go on even within a region. In Batticaloa, the people from Ealuvan Karai –where the sun rises, call people of Paduvaan Karai-where the sun sets, kaaddaankal-foresters. In Jaffna, the people of the islands are called theevar - inferior to others. All the groupings within communities have their own terms for expressing their own superiority and the inferiority of others. Education, the media, and migration itself, are helping to direct the younger generation away from this kind of labeling which is part of a tradition which education is making attempts at ameliorating.

In order that the Sinhala language be prevented from swamping Sri Lanka, where all government initiatives have Sinhala names, e.g. grama sevaka -legal administrative heads of villages, there has to be resistance. The reflection of that resistance in language may be seen in, for instance, the way the very popular terms laksala and salusala – a type of controlled price store, are ridiculed by moderate Tamil politicians who call them malasala,

War, part and parcel of the daily life for the Sri Lankan Tamils, brings new terms and terminologies, many of them politically loaded, and these are nowadays used casually in ordinary conversation. Kompumuri, for example, is a traditional ritualized game of the Tamils of eastern Sri Lankan communities, full of secret rituals and techniques: the community is divided into two zones, vada seri- north zone and then seri- south zone, and both zones prepare for the ritual game in secret ways for many days. Keeping the secrets during this period is so important that there will be fights between married partners over it but somehow the secrets will be kept. Even husband and wife are divided and fight each other during this period. The word recce, from reconnaissance, is used for finding out the other side’s secrets; even very old people use this word which was originally used in military circles for secret missions.

Significantly, the concepts of thiyahi –martyr - and thurohi – traitor, are also familiar to all. Firing, round-up, chekin-checking, pistol, claymore, shell, multibarrel, gunpoint, convoy, inquiry, kidnap, pass, landmine, blast: these are some of the terms *taken from English, in everyday use by Sri Lankan Tamils.

So much vocabulary coined from the horrors of war has not nudged out the variations that are appearing in all spoken languages connected with modern systems and technology. Terms such as sisu uthana, pathuma vimana, vanitha vasana-fortunate ladies, and ithuru mithuru, kantha ran ginum-gold quest of women: these names of banks’s savings and loans schemes, give evidence of the influence of Sinhala on Tamil in Sri Lanka.

Continuous displacement has meant that many people live for long periods as refugees in welfare centers where different communities are all mixed together. New life patterns and unfamiliar activities bring new usages onto the scene. The words “queue” and “relief” are very widely used as Tamil words, for the lives of the people are lived with reference to these two words. Sandai – war, idampeyarvu – displacement, and nivaranam- relief, are three Tamil words, intertwined, not only as terms, but as living experiences too. The development of the term, enjeeoh –NGO, is then logical, both in word and fact. The words pathivu – registration and identi – identity card, have become part of the body and soul of the Tamils of Sri Lanka; someone without pathivu and identi is equal to a dead person. Identi eaduthiya?, Identi enga*,identi konduvanthiya?, pathivuv vaichatha? or pathinchatha/ pathinchacha? Pathivu and identi are very directly connected with the life and death of Sri Lankan Tamils, since these are the two basic things they need for their safety and relief.

"Identi enke?", identi edu, identi iruka, ID edu: the authoritative, sinhalesed, demands of security personnel have become familiar over more than three decades. Then there is tax, vati in Tamil, the subject of many humorous oral stories. Vaddi-interest, another term much used amongst Tamils over a long period has now become civilized to "interest", "interest in Tamil rate", "interest free". And then, amongst all these developments, there is that of the internet by which Tamils may connect with each other in their mother tongue.

Any survey of Tamil dialects in Sri Lanka must give prominence to Tamil speaking Muslims, whose role in the development of Tamil in its written and spoken forms has been extremely influential. In Tamil, they are respectfully referred to as Muslim but the term sony will be used when the expression is of hostility; the Muslims of course have their own terms for res ponding to this.

Another group worthy of attention for different reasons is the Burghers, who are living among Tamils, particularly in Batticola, and who are willing to maintain their identity but not really their language, Portukis. The elite amongst them prefer English but the ordinary people speak Tamil. Tamils are disparaging about Burghers, calling them 'Paranki'; once again, the Burghers have their own ways of disparaging Tamils.

It is very much to be regretted that most people in Tamil Nadu, where large numbers of Sri Lankan Tamils are living as refugees, are still unaware that there are Tamils living in Sri Lanka; so the first questions are, neengal Sri Lankava/Ceylona? and nalla thamil pesariyale?- are you Sri Lankan? and, you speak good Tamil! The Tamils of Tamil Nadu identify Sri Lankan Tamils with Keralites, neengal keralava?.

Under these circumstances, miscommunication is rampant. Take for example, the usage of kathaiththal and pesuthal for, to speak, by Sri Lankan and South Indian Tamils respectively. Another miscommunication arose in a theatre workshop at Madurai, Tamil Nadu when the participants were asked, irunka -to sit, and didn't, even when the request was repeated . Irunka means sit for Sri Lankan Tamils but for Tamils in Tamil Nadu it means, wait. For the participants to have sat , the term should have been ukkarunka. In Sri Lanka nillunka means, wait, nillunka vaaran- wait, I will come.

Manmade and natural disasters play havoc with the lives of Tamils in Sri Lanka, uproot them and scatter them to mix with strangers from other regions, speaking Tamil certainly, but often in very unfamiliar ways. People’s thought processes are affected by these experiences and, over time, there will be deterioration of local culture and local skills will be forgotten. The vital question is: how are we going to liberate ourselves from alienation and avoid disintegration?

Good theatre dialogue requires a clear understanding of the ground realities of all the varieties of poin of view, so concentrating on the language usage of people of different states and from different castes and classes is essential in understanding all these realities.

At this point a dialogue from a school play by Kulanthai M. Shanmukalingam, from the mid 80s comes to mind. A female character, a refugee from 1983 riots in Colombo, is talking about the sufferings of refugees at the hands of thugs and of how Perera Uncle saved them.

She says: 'kaadaiyariddai irinthu Perera Uncle than engalai kapatinavar' -Perera Uncle is the person who saved us from thugs

Another character exclaims: 'Perera enda Sinkalavanallo' - Perera is a Sinhalease isn’t he?

There is always a burst of laughter as a reaction to this dialogue which has an inter-related, two-pronged meaning: it refers to the innocence of the character and to the awareness of the audience that all Sinhalese are not Kaadaiyar-thugs. The play cleverly liberates the audience from stereotypes, which are mostly used as comic and negative elements, and instead deals with actual conflict.

Modern Tamil theatre is being employed in Srilanka as alternative education and therefore concerns itself with the condition of education today and with ways of improving it and of releasing students from constrictive and wasteful systems.

The role of the theatre, in this context, is to stimulate people to connect themselves in a positive way and to create multi-dimensional societies. Theatre must engage itself as an alternative to the media and to conventional education, and in Sri Lanka it must do that in a war torn land amongst people who are in a state of disassociation.

Language will always be a primary tool in theatre work, whether the language being used reflects that of the actual period depicted or not. Today, moves are being made towards a more faithful representation of spoken language in literature and drama. Those who work in theatre are necessarily alert to the way language is used; every tour of the native land is a journey through language and expression…