Who is an Assamese?

One year to the state polls and the very funny thing about our state Assam: We don’t have a definition about who is an ‘Assamese’! So, a year later we are going to have yet another state election and we are struck in the midst of an undefined group of indigenous people. Who is actually an Assamese? How does the Government intend to define the very people of the state? Will it have any effect on the people of the state?

Before proceeding to answer the question about who is an Assamese, I want to know if the current generation of people can be defined as an Assamese. Various criterion have been put forwarded so as to give a proper definition of an Assamese person. But should we be identified simply by that definition? Should I be defined as an Assamese simply because I was born in Assam if I don’t have a single clue about the cultures and traditions of Assam? Forget cultures and traditions, do we even care about our Assamese language? Can you read Assamese as fluently as English? Can you?

Being a student from an English medium high school, I had a torrid time while dealing with the Assamese language in and around the school campus. The linguistic usage of English, which was the strict Draconian rule in my school, had to be used even with our friends and foes during recess. The use of Assamese was highly prohibited. It was the biggest crime one could ever do in their entire lifetime. Teachers would employ a few non-lively creatures to guard fellow classmates from interacting in Assamese. Assamese was the you-know-which language, the usage of which was a highly punishable treason. Such were the rules I almost thought we were back under the British Colonial Rule. The most ironical thing in school days was the presence of an Assamese subject. Such was the negligence of Assamese in our vocabulary that the words and definitions in that language seemed tougher than Cantonese and Gaelic combined.

The effect of such foolish rules in high school days came into my hindsight when I got a set of questions written in Assamese regarding a survey project from a friend. Being poor in its usage, I had to seek help from a couple of friends. Unluckily, help never came. Even those who proudly boasted about being from an Assamese medium schools acted as if I had presented before them a set of questions set in Tamil or Telugu. Disappointed, I had to finish off my work within my own intellectual. Sigh!

On one hand, if I analyze this negligence of Assamese in schools, I should interpret that as students being groomed for the modern world where English is the most necessary medium for communication. Quite evidently, without the basic knowledge of English, you are not even fit to live on this planet. Seems legit, right? But on the other hand, we should not treat our own indigenous language in such a sorry manner. Being modern seems the need of the hour but not at the cost of our own basic identity. If we ourselves neglect our own roots, there will be no place for us in the world of history.

Not being able to use English in the highest manner is not a matter of shame. With time, the usage can be well developed. But neglecting our own indigenous dialect is a matter of unforgivable shame in the highest manner. Give it a thought, will you?