Title: Kashmiri Language - Have We Forgotten Our Roots?

Let me begin by reframing the title - Kaeshir Zaban - Have We Forgotten Our Roots?

Kaeshur feels like home, a part of me while Kashmiri language feels like a subjugation of my identity. It seems like a foreigner to me and I don't sense the 'Mechar or mithaas' in it. The essence lies in Kaeshir zabaan. Something is abandoned and dies a slow death when I utter and hear people say 'Kashmiri language'.  Why do we need other languages to express Kashmiri? We don't. 

Languages survive when people speak it. When we utter the words of our language with pride and admiration, we are honoring who we are. It's who we have been, are, and will be. It's the symbol of belonging, a sign, and a subtle way to depict and feel who we are. Kaeshir, before Kashmiri. Not the other way around. Kasheer, before Kashmir. 

Speaking of Kashmir, I feel it's the language of love, belonging, and calling home. It is deeply related to the identity of the Kashmiri people. Kashmiris speak Kashur. However, the Kashmiri language defines the identity of a Kashmiri. Speaking Urdu, English, Hindi, etc. may help you ace your career or blend in, I agree. You need to speak these languages to carve your space in the world and grab the opportunities that may not be available otherwise.

But, what about the place you belong to? What about you scolding your children when they don't speak other languages properly and ignoring when they can't even understand Kashmiri?  What about your attention to get courses, books, and cursive writing notebooks to teach them English and Urdu but the lack of care to teach them basic Kashmiri Adaab?

I have felt a connection with this language no matter how much I spoke Urdu and English. With the feeble attempts to get the words right while speaking with the elderly, I felt connected to their worldview. I feel the sweetness and the innocence of their hearts when they speak in Kashmiri. They would say 'Saani Waqte' and not 'Long Time Ago' but I would always prefer their version of the story. Unfiltered, pure, and from their heart. I like the sound of Kashmiri words. The way they overflow with innocence and grace and reach to the other. I sense the pretense is gone when you speak Kashmiri.

Excuse me if I'm exaggerating, but I took my time to understand my bond with the language of my homeland. Kashmiri was an optional subject in my school, while English and Urdu were the core ones. It was perhaps after the 3rd standard we got to learn Kashmiri at school. My understanding of Kashmiri is still limited. But, what has changed is my attempt to speak it. At least at home, and with my people. 

Sometimes I fail to pronounce the words correctly, but the connection I feel with myself and my identity is matchless. I am not a foreigner, which is perhaps what I own when I speak in Kashmiri. And, in these attempts, I sometimes notice, how other languages have occupied a huge space in our daily conversations. While I agree and understand the situation's demand, I also feel there are times when we can sit with our families or talk to our friends in Kaeshir Zaban. When we can familiarize ourselves with so many languages, we can also take time to not be a stranger to our own language.