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SADEHA 12.m4a

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Part 1 · VIDEHA MITHILA MAITHILI DISCUSSION CRITICISM SERIES PART 1

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1. 0:00–0:30वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो �
2. 0:30–0:35information act and hurling these deeply personal insults about colleagues being quote down
3. 0:35–0:36in the gutter.
4. 0:36–0:37Yeah, it gets intense.
5. 0:37–0:38It really does.
6. 0:38–0:42But the stack of sources we have for you today, and yes, I'm talking to our listeners
7. 0:42–0:46that are right there with us, it proves that the reality of this world is anything
8. 0:46–0:47but quiet.
9. 0:47–0:49Oh, it is absolutely explosive.
10. 0:49–0:50It is.
11. 0:50–0:52And so I have a question for you before we even start.
12. 0:52–0:57Have you ever really considered how much drama and intense passion and, well, strict,
13. 0:57–1:01mathematical precision actually goes into keeping a language alive?
14. 1:01–1:06It's completely counterintuitive, honestly. I mean, we all kind of assume that literature,
15. 1:06–1:11especially regional literature, exists in this serene academic bubble.
16. 1:11–1:12Right, protected from the real world.
17. 1:12–1:20Exactly. But when you are dealing with a language that is actively fighting for its space,
18. 1:20–1:24its resources, and, you know, its very identity in the modern world,
19. 1:24–1:27that bubble just completely bursts.
20. 1:27–1:30The stakes become incredibly surprisingly high.
21. 1:30–1:32Well, okay, let's unpack this
22. 1:32–1:35because that is our exact mission for today's deep dive.
23. 1:35–1:36Let's do it.
24. 1:36–1:40We are looking at a really fascinating primary source today.
25. 1:40–1:42It's a collection of excerpts from an e-journal
26. 1:42–1:44called Wideja Sedeja 12.
27. 1:44–1:46Polished back in 2012, right?
28. 1:46–1:472012, yep.
29. 1:47–1:50It's a Mathili publication and it's totally official,
30. 1:50–1:56Complete with an ISSN number 2229-547X for the record.
31. 1:56–1:57Very official.
32. 1:57–2:02And we are going to use these pages to unpack the vibrant and honestly sometimes incredibly
33. 2:02–2:06contentious but deeply rich world of modern Mayfuly literature.
34. 2:06–2:07It's a huge topic.
35. 2:07–2:08It is.
36. 2:08–2:13We're going to navigate the fierce political infighting over literary awards.
37. 2:13–2:19We'll look at the profound psychological struggle between modern city life and traditional village values.
38. 2:19–2:21Which is a huge theme in this journal.
39. 2:21–2:22Massive.
40. 2:22–2:23And then we'll look at the push
41. 2:23–2:25to elevate marginalized voices.
42. 2:25–2:28And finally, we are gonna end
43. 2:28–2:30on the incredibly strict rules
44. 2:30–2:32of writing a Mathilli Gazal.
45. 2:32–2:33Oh, the Gazal rules.
46. 2:33–2:34I can't wait for that part.
47. 2:34–2:35It's like math.
48. 2:35–2:38But before we get there, set the scene for us.
49. 2:38–2:40What exactly is the cultural landscape
50. 2:40–2:41we are stepping into here?
51. 2:41–2:44Like for someone who isn't familiar.
52. 2:44–2:47Right, so to really grasp the intensity of these texts,
53. 2:47–2:49we first need to understand the language itself.
54. 2:50–2:53Mathili is an ancient Indo-Aryan language.
55. 2:53–2:54Okay.
56. 2:54–2:55And it's spoken primarily in the Bihar
57. 2:55–2:57and Tarkhan states of India.
58. 2:57–2:59But significantly, and this is important,
59. 2:59–3:01it's also spoken across the border
60. 3:01–3:03in the Eastern Terai region of Nepal.
61. 3:03–3:05Oh wow, so it's transnational.
62. 3:05–3:07Exactly, so right out of the gate,
63. 3:07–3:08you're dealing with a language
64. 3:08–3:10that spans an international border,
65. 3:10–3:13and it carries this massive, massive amount
66. 3:13–3:14of historical weight.
67. 3:14–3:15Right, because it's not just a dialect, right?
68. 3:15–3:16No, not at all.
69. 3:16–3:23its own script, its own incredibly deep literary traditions, and a vast population of speakers
70. 3:23–3:28who are currently like right now navigating this extreme transition.
71. 3:28–3:30A transition from what to what, exactly.
72. 3:30–3:38From a largely agrarian, you know, village-based society to a highly urbanized, globalized
73. 3:38–3:4021st century reality.
74. 3:40–3:41Okay, yeah.
75. 3:41–3:45And as we see right on the very first pages of this journal, that transition is generating
76. 3:45–3:46a massive amount of heat.
77. 3:46–3:48Oh, absolute fire.
78. 3:48–3:52The first piece we encounter is this editorial written by Gagendra Thakur.
79. 3:52–3:56And I mean, it immediately drops us into the absolute battlefield of literary politics and
80. 3:56–3:57patronage.
81. 3:57–3:58It really does.
82. 3:58–4:02It reads less like an academic introduction and way more like a fiery expose.
83. 4:02–4:03Yes.
84. 4:03–4:06But wait, before we really dive into the specifics of this editorial, I think we need to make
85. 4:06–4:08something very clear to everyone.
86. 4:08–4:09Oh, absolutely.
87. 4:09–4:10This is crucial.
88. 4:10–4:11Right.
89. 4:11–4:13So we are looking at the source material completely impartially.
90. 4:13–4:17We are simply reporting the claims and allegations exactly as the author of this editorial has
91. 4:17–4:18laid them out.
92. 4:18–4:19Exactly.
93. 4:19–4:24We are not endorsing either side of these very heated, highly politically and socially
94. 4:24–4:25charged arguments.
95. 4:25–4:26Not at all.
96. 4:26–4:30Our goal here is strictly to understand the dynamics that are at play within this specific
97. 4:30–4:33literary community purely as they are framed by this text.
98. 4:33–4:34Perfect.
99. 4:34–4:35Yes.
100. 4:35–4:36We are looking at this text as an artifact.
101. 4:36–4:38A very spicy artifact.
102. 4:38–4:39Very.
103. 4:39–4:44What this artifact alleges is that the Mathili literary community is deeply, deeply fractured
104. 4:44–4:47by caste-based gatekeeping.
105. 4:47–4:54The editorial specifically claims there is this clash between Bramanical and Kayasta ideologies
106. 4:54–4:58and that this clash is dictating who gets published, who gets awarded, and ultimately
107. 4:58–5:00who gets erased from the cultural record.
108. 5:00–5:04Yeah, the author, Gijendra Thakur, he does not mince words at all.
109. 5:04–5:08He points to very, very specific examples to build his case.
110. 5:08–5:09What kind of examples?
111. 5:09–5:13For instance, he alleges there was a deliberate coordinated conspiracy against this specific
112. 5:13–5:17author named Suhashtan Jayadav and his book, Baneet Be Great.
113. 5:17–5:19Okay, a conspiracy. Why him?
114. 5:19–5:25The text claims that because Yadav absolutely refuses to compromise on his ideology and because
115. 5:25–5:29he actively fights for his community's language, he essentially became a target.
116. 5:29–5:30Wow.
117. 5:30–5:35Yeah. And Taku doesn't just vaguely gesture at the establishment. He specifically names
118. 5:35–5:40influential figures like Ramdev Chah and Mohan Faradwaj as the architects of this targeting.
119. 5:40–5:44He's naming names. That is bold for an academic journal.
120. 5:44–5:48It is. And the allegations, they go way beyond just a single book.
121. 5:48–5:50Right, because then he talks about a monograph, right?
122. 5:50–5:55Yes. So he claims that a monograph, which is a very detailed academic study on a
123. 5:55–6:00single subject on a writer named Raj Kamal Chaudhary, which, importantly, was also
124. 6:00–6:02written by Sipashtan Chanda Yadav.
125. 6:02–6:04So it's the same guy again?
126. 6:04–6:05Exactly.
127. 6:05–6:07He claims this monograph was deliberately blocked
128. 6:07–6:10from publication by the Sahitya Academy.
129. 6:10–6:11Okay, wait.
130. 6:11–6:12Let's pause there for you listening,
131. 6:12–6:13because if you don't know the context,
132. 6:13–6:15that might not sound like a huge deal.
133. 6:15–6:17But the Sahitya Academy is India's
134. 6:17–6:19national academy of letters, right?
135. 6:19–6:20It is massive.
136. 6:20–6:23It is an incredibly prestigious
137. 6:23–6:24government-backed institution.
138. 6:24–6:26So having a book blocked by them
139. 6:26–6:29isn't just like getting a rejection letter
140. 6:29–6:30from a small indie press.
141. 6:30–6:31No, not at all.
142. 6:31–6:34The author is framing this as a deliberate act
143. 6:34–6:38of institutional silencing by these specific named individuals.
144. 6:38–6:39That is heavy.
145. 6:39–6:42But I guess, and maybe this is a naive question,
146. 6:42–6:44why does it matter that much?
147. 6:44–6:46Like why would a block monograph warrant
148. 6:46–6:49such a furious, blistering editorial?
149. 6:49–6:51It's a great question, and to understand it,
150. 6:51–6:53we really have to look at the mechanics
151. 6:53–6:55of how cultural preservation actually works.
152. 6:55–6:56Okay, walk me through it.
153. 6:56–7:00Why do literary awards and publications
154. 7:00–7:03from institutions like the Sahija Academy matter.
155. 7:03–7:05It isn't just about getting a nice shiny plaque
156. 7:05–7:08for your wall or a bit of prize money.
157. 7:08–7:12These institutions literally dictate the historical canon.
158. 7:12–7:15They decide who gets recorded in the National Archives.
159. 7:15–7:18They determine which specific dialect, which vocabulary
160. 7:18–7:21and which social perspective of the language
161. 7:21–7:22is deemed the standard.
162. 7:22–7:23Oh, I see.
163. 7:23–7:25And then that standard is what gets taught in schools.
164. 7:25–7:26Exactly.
165. 7:26–7:27It's what gets preserved for centuries.
166. 7:27–7:28It's the official record.
167. 7:28–7:31So it's basically the keys to the cultural kingdom.
168. 7:31–7:34Like if you aren't in the canon, did you even exist?
169. 7:34–7:34Precisely.
170. 7:34–7:38When a language community feels its resources are scarce.
171. 7:38–7:40Or when it feels the immense pressure
172. 7:40–7:42of a rapidly globalizing world
173. 7:42–7:45that clearly prioritizes English or Hindi.
174. 7:45–7:47Yeah, that pressure must be intense.
175. 7:47–7:47It is.
176. 7:47–7:49And so the stakes for controlling
177. 7:49–7:51those internal literary resources
178. 7:51–7:53become completely existential.
179. 7:53–7:55Because whoever controls the awards,
180. 7:55–7:57they control the entire narrative
181. 7:57–7:59of what My Thile literature actually is.
182. 7:59–8:02Man, I really wanna pull on that thread
183. 8:02–8:05because the editorial actually takes this a step further.
184. 8:05–8:06Oh, it goes much further.
185. 8:06–8:10Yeah, it explicitly accuses various cultural institutions
186. 8:10–8:13of quote, black marketing for coordinator posts
187. 8:13–8:15at the Sahita Academy in Delhi.
188. 8:15–8:16Such a strong phrase.
189. 8:16–8:17Right, black marketing.
190. 8:17–8:20And it lists specific organizations.
191. 8:20–8:23It calls out the Vidyapati Seva Sanstan in Darbhanga,
192. 8:23–8:26the Chetna Samiti in Patna and several others.
193. 8:26–8:30Bucker basically claims that many of these are just paper organizations.
194. 8:30–8:36Like they are run entirely on cast, regional and hereditary lines rather than operating
195. 8:36–8:39on any kind of genuine literary merit.
196. 8:39–8:45Yeah, and using the term black marketing in literary context is just incredibly loaded.
197. 8:45–8:46It sounds illegal.
198. 8:46–8:53It implies that influence, prestige and representation are literally commodities.
199. 8:53–8:58being illicitly traded behind closed doors by power brokers rather than being earned through
200. 8:58–9:00the actual merit of the art.
201. 9:00–9:01That's wild.
202. 9:01–9:05The author is essentially suggesting a complete institutional failure, saying the bodies that
203. 9:05–9:09are meant to champion the language are instead being used as personal fiefdoms.
204. 9:09–9:15It honestly reminds me of like a really fierce local election or even the intense clique
205. 9:15–9:20dynamics of a high school but scaled up to this grand culturally existential level.
206. 9:20–9:21That's a really good analogy actually.
207. 9:21–9:26The stakes just feel astronomically high precisely because the community is so insulated, you
208. 9:26–9:27know.
209. 9:27–9:31You are fighting over this very specific, very vital piece of cultural real estate.
210. 9:31–9:36And the editorial goes on to harshly criticize recent awards too, down to the granular level.
211. 9:36–9:40Oh yeah, it attacks a youth award given to Anand Kumar Chah.
212. 9:40–9:44It claims the whole selection process for him was highly questionable.
213. 9:44–9:48And then it just straight up calls another author, Pankar's Parashar, a thief.
214. 9:48–9:51It says he's a thief being protected by his cast peers.
215. 9:51–9:52It's relentless.
216. 9:52–9:53It really is.
217. 9:53–9:56And it even goes after a children's literature award.
218. 9:56–10:00The award was given to Merlid Hartjof for his book Pilpila Gash.
219. 10:00–10:04And the editorial claims it isn't even proper children's literature.
220. 10:04–10:06And then this is the craziest part to me.
221. 10:06–10:11It mocks him for proudly wearing the traditional garland and headdress, the pog, while accepting
222. 10:11–10:12the award.
223. 10:12–10:16I mean, the sheer granular level of these grievances is wild.
224. 10:16–10:19to go down to criticizing the traditional headwear
225. 10:19–10:22someone chose to wear at an award ceremony.
226. 10:22–10:24It just shows how deeply personal this all is.
227. 10:24–10:25It's so personal.
228. 10:25–10:28But the raw emotion in the text,
229. 10:28–10:31it truly culminates in a piece of actual evidence
230. 10:31–10:32the editor includes.
231. 10:32–10:33Oh, the email.
232. 10:33–10:36The email is a poorly written English email,
233. 10:36–10:40presented right there as a direct artifact
234. 10:40–10:41of a real world dispute.
235. 10:41–10:43Okay, this email is wild.
236. 10:43–10:45I actually have a bit of this for you listening
237. 10:45–10:47because it perfectly captures the exact friction
238. 10:47–10:48we are talking about.
239. 10:48–10:49Please do.
240. 10:49–10:54OK, so the email is complaining about a write to information
241. 10:54–10:58or RTI report regarding some translation assignments.
242. 10:58–11:01Right, which is a legal mechanism in India.
243. 11:01–11:01Exactly.
244. 11:01–11:04And it accuses the journal's team of propagating, quote,
245. 11:04–11:07some sort of WikiLeaks.
246. 11:07–11:07Unbelievable.
247. 11:07–11:09And then it just completely devolves.
248. 11:09–11:11It says, though during the debate,
249. 11:11–11:14I found your esteemed literary colleague Priyanka Chah
250. 11:14–11:15down to the gutter.
251. 11:15–11:19She had neither the manner nor mind to enter into a debate of literary kind.
252. 11:19–11:24It is such a remarkable jarring artifact to just find randomly in the pages of an academic
253. 11:24–11:26literary journal.
254. 11:26–11:28It really strips away the polite veneer, doesn't it?
255. 11:28–11:29Entirely.
256. 11:29–11:32I mean, think about the elements that are colliding in that single email.
257. 11:32–11:37You have individuals using state legal mechanisms, the Right to Information Act, to audit
258. 11:37–11:38translation assignments.
259. 11:38–11:44You have them invoking global geopolitical controversies, like WikiLeaks, to describe
260. 11:44–11:46local literary gossip.
261. 11:46–11:47It's so dramatic.
262. 11:47–11:52And then they resort to these deeply personal, highly gendered insults like Town to the Gutter.
263. 11:52–11:55It just proves that the tension isn't theoretical at all.
264. 11:55–11:58It isn't just polite disagreement over syntax in a classroom.
265. 11:58–12:01It is playing out viciously in their actual inboxes.
266. 12:01–12:02Absolutely.
267. 12:02–12:05But I have to pose a question to you based on all this mudslinging.
268. 12:05–12:09Because looking at this level of intense bitter in fighting,
269. 12:09–12:12is this a sign of a dying language?
270. 12:12–12:18Like is this just people fighting over the last few scraps of funding and recognition in a shrinking ecosystem?
271. 12:18–12:21Or is it actually the exact opposite?
272. 12:21–12:21Ringing.
273. 12:21–12:28I mean, is this a sign of a deeply passionate community, a community that cares so intensely about its cultural output
274. 12:28–12:32that they're willing to literally go to war over a translation assignment?
275. 12:32–12:36You know, that is perhaps the most profound question raised by this first text.
276. 12:36–12:40It hits on the central paradox of any culture that is under pressure.
277. 12:40–12:45On one hand, factionalism is undeniably destructive, right?
278. 12:45–12:48It drains limited resources, it exhausts the community.
279. 12:48–12:50Yeah, and I imagine it alienates people.
280. 12:50–12:54Oh, completely. It alienates young new writers who just want to share their work
281. 12:54–12:57and don't want to navigate a political minefield just to publish a single poem.
282. 12:57–12:58Totally.
283. 12:58–13:02But on the other hand, apathy is the true death of a language.
284. 13:02–13:04Oh, that's a great point.
285. 13:04–13:09The very fact that someone cares enough to go through the legal trouble of filing an RTI request.
286. 13:09–13:09Yeah.
287. 13:09–13:12Just to find out who received a translation assignment?
288. 13:12–13:15That proves that the assignment still matters deeply.
289. 13:15–13:17Give it care.
290. 13:17–13:18Yes.
291. 13:18–13:20The literature is alive enough to fight over.
292. 13:20–13:24I mean, if the language were truly dead, no one would bother arguing about who gets
293. 13:24–13:25to wear the pie at the awards ceremony.
294. 13:25–13:27They just wouldn't care.
295. 13:27–13:29That is a really fascinating way to look at it.
296. 13:29–13:31The anger is a pulse.
297. 13:31–13:32It means the patient is alive.
298. 13:32–13:33Exactly.
299. 13:33–13:35A very high blood pressure pulse, maybe.
300. 13:35–13:36But a pulse nonetheless.
301. 13:36–13:37Ah, yes.
302. 13:37–13:42And what's really incredible is that despite all this intense gatekeeping we just talked about,
303. 13:42–13:47despite the bitter controversies in the editorial rooms of Delhi and Darbhanga,
304. 13:47–13:52the actual work of creating and celebrating art is completely unstopped.
305. 13:52–13:53It is thriving.
306. 13:53–13:56Not yet. In fact, it is crossing international borders.
307. 13:56–13:59It is. The source material pivots quite dramatically right after this.
308. 13:59–14:04It goes from this very internal localized conflict to an international celebration.
309. 14:04–14:05Right.
310. 14:05–14:09The journal features a really detailed report from Rajbiraj, which is a city in Nepal,
311. 14:09–14:13regarding the Mathili Pratipa Puraskar. Which is a major talent award, right?
312. 14:13–14:18It's a very significant award. And what I love about this report is how diverse the list of
313. 14:18–14:24winners is. They awarded seven individuals, they recognized a poet, Sagar Vir Kadari, but they
314. 14:24–14:30also recognized a radio actor, Jabak Das. And they recognized musicians too, like Devendra
315. 14:30–14:34Andres Ahasone and Preeti Adhikari, I feel like it really highlights this literature isn't
316. 14:34–14:37just words printed on a page, you know.
317. 14:37–14:41It is a living, breathing, auditory and performative culture.
318. 14:41–14:42I agree completely.
319. 14:42–14:47And the cross-border nature of this celebration is just so vital to understand.
320. 14:47–14:49Because it's not just happening in India.
321. 14:49–14:50Right.
322. 14:50–14:54Following the report on the Rajbiraaj awards, the text details a massive event at Sheetal
323. 14:54–14:55Nuis.
324. 14:55–14:57What's Sheetal Nuis for context?
325. 14:57–14:59Ashid al-Nuwas is the official residence
326. 14:59–15:00of the president of Nepal.
327. 15:00–15:02Oh wow, so this is a huge deal.
328. 15:02–15:03A very huge deal.
329. 15:03–15:06The Nepalese president at the time, Ram Bir and Yadav,
330. 15:06–15:08officially launched seven books
331. 15:08–15:10by a single journalist and author
332. 15:10–15:11named Rajendra Nepali.
333. 15:11–15:14Wait, seven books dropped at once by one guy?
334. 15:14–15:15Seven books, yes.
335. 15:15–15:18That is a staggering amount of creative output.
336. 15:18–15:19Who has the time?
337. 15:19–15:20It really is incredible.
338. 15:20–15:23And the titles of these books are incredibly telling too.
339. 15:23–15:25We have one called Laktantra Kallalima,
340. 15:25–15:28which points to the dawn or the redness of democracy.
341. 15:28–15:32We have Vichar Kranti, which hints at a revolution of thought.
342. 15:32–15:34There is Nav Nepal or New Nepal,
343. 15:34–15:36and a book called Sohuggan.
344. 15:36–15:39They all sound so politically and socially charged.
345. 15:39–15:40They absolutely are.
346. 15:40–15:42And what really stands out in this report
347. 15:42–15:44is that the president of Nepal
348. 15:44–15:47specifically praised Rajendra Nepali for his dual role.
349. 15:47–15:48His dual role?
350. 15:48–15:50Yeah, he lauded him as both a journalist
351. 15:50–15:52and a literary figure.
352. 15:52–15:55He noted his crucial work in keeping the history
353. 15:55–15:59of the Mithila region, and specifically, it's martyrs alive.
354. 15:59–16:01This perfectly illustrates how literature
355. 16:01–16:05in this specific regional context serves as a crucial bridge.
356. 16:05–16:07Yeah, because you have two sovereign nations, India
357. 16:07–16:08and Nepal.
358. 16:08–16:08Right.
359. 16:08–16:11Two nations that share this deep linguistic and cultural
360. 16:11–16:12heritage.
361. 16:12–16:15And the literature acts as this unifying thread
362. 16:15–16:18that just completely transcends the political border.
363. 16:18–16:19It allows a shared history to survive,
364. 16:19–16:21regardless of lines on a map.
365. 16:21–16:22It's so powerful.
366. 16:22–16:24And speaking of cementing history,
367. 16:24–16:27The journal also covers a book launched back in India in Saharsa.
368. 16:27–16:28Yep.
369. 16:28–16:34This was for Dr. Devanarayan Saa's critical study of an author known simply as Manipadma.
370. 16:34–16:38And this study was launched by a Sahitya Academy winner, Professor Mayanand Mishra.
371. 16:38–16:40So again, some heavy hitters involved here.
372. 16:40–16:44From what the sources tell us, this guy Manipadma was an absolute pioneer.
373. 16:44–16:48Manipadma is a monumental figure in this landscape.
374. 16:48–16:51His inclusion in this journal is deeply significant.
375. 16:51–16:52Why is that?
376. 16:52–16:53What did he do?
377. 16:53–16:56The text notes, he was the first Mathili detective novelist.
378. 16:56–17:00Which is a fun fact, a fascinating genre milestone in itself.
379. 17:00–17:05It is. But his true lasting significance lies in his relationship to folklore.
380. 17:06–17:12Manipadma was actually the first author to give formal literary shape to regional folk deities.
381. 17:12–17:17Oh right. The text mentions names like Loric, Sáhez, and Chouharmal.
382. 17:17–17:22Yes, exactly. And to really understand why this was such a massive cultural shift,
383. 17:22–17:26We have to look at the historical divide between oral and written traditions.
384. 17:26–17:27Okay, lay it out for me.
385. 17:27–17:30In many cultures, really, across the globe, oral traditions.
386. 17:31–17:35The stories passed down by the common people, the village myths, the songs of the laborers.
387. 17:35–17:37Right, the stuff that isn't written down in fancy books.
388. 17:37–17:42Exactly. Those oral traditions are often marginalized by the established written
389. 17:42–17:46canon. The written canon is usually controlled by the elite, the educated, the upper casts.
390. 17:46–17:48Okay, yeah, that makes sense.
391. 17:48–17:55So, by taking these oral deities, Loric, Solhez, Chouharmal, and writing them into formal novels,
392. 17:55–18:03Manipadma essentially legitimized oral history. He took the stories of the village of the common folk
393. 18:03–18:07and forced the literary establishment to recognize them as high art.
394. 18:07–18:09He essentially smuggled the village into the library.
395. 18:09–18:14That's a perfect way to phrase it, yes. He completely democratized the literature.
396. 18:14–18:21And now, by having Dr. Saw write a critical study of Manipodma, that legacy is cemented.
397. 18:21–18:24Because critical studies are kind of like the machinery of preservation.
398. 18:24–18:25Precisely.
399. 18:25–18:29An author might be very popular in their own time, but critical studies are what ensure
400. 18:29–18:32that author is actually taught in universities 50 years later.
401. 18:32–18:34They validate the work academically.
402. 18:34–18:37It really just shows how incredibly diverse this whole ecosystem is.
403. 18:37–18:42I mean, we go from bitter, mud-slinging arguments over who gets a modern fellowship
404. 18:42–18:46to a presidential palace launching seven blocks on democracy,
405. 18:46–18:50to celebrating the guy who wrote the first Mathili detective novel and legitimized folk gods.
406. 18:50–18:52This is a vibrant, chaotic mix.
407. 18:52–18:53It really is.
408. 18:53–18:55But here's where my mind goes.
409. 18:55–18:59How does all of this vast history, all these big political themes,
410. 18:59–19:03actually filter down into the daily lives of the people speaking the language today?
411. 19:03–19:05That is the big question.
412. 19:05–19:06Right.
413. 19:06–19:11And the journal tackles this head-on with a really comprehensive review by Dr. Regendro Vimal.
414. 19:11–19:14He reviews a short story collection called Jindagi.
415. 19:14–19:18Ah yes, Jindagi, written by Sujit Kumarjha.
416. 19:18–19:21This review is honestly a phenomenal window
417. 19:21–19:23into the current psychological state
418. 19:23–19:24of the Mathili middle class.
419. 19:24–19:25Okay, tell me more.
420. 19:25–19:26What's his style like?
421. 19:26–19:29Well, Dr. Vimal highly praises Ja's style,
422. 19:29–19:31particularly his conciseness
423. 19:31–19:33and his incredible psychological depth.
424. 19:33–19:37He specifically compares Ja's narrative structure
425. 19:37–19:39to the American writer, O. Henry.
426. 19:39–19:41Oh, I love a good O. Henry comparison.
427. 19:41–19:45There is literally nothing better than getting to the last paragraph of a story and having the rug
428. 19:46–19:50completely pulled out from under you forcing you to reevaluate every single thing you just read.
429. 19:50–19:52Exactly. And Dr. Vimal notes how Jalah
430. 19:53–19:59uses those sharp unexpected twist endings to suddenly reveal a really deep, often very uncomfortable
431. 20:00–20:04psychological truth about his characters. And the story summarized in this review.
432. 20:04–20:10They all seem to be dealing with this intense friction of modernity. They captured the urban transition perfectly.
433. 20:10–20:11They really do.
434. 20:11–20:15Let's actually break some of these plots down for you listening because they are incredibly
435. 20:15–20:16rich.
436. 20:16–20:18Let's start with the story called Fawful Fulacra Hall.
437. 20:18–20:19Right.
438. 20:19–20:26So this story is a brilliant, brilliant examination of class, expectation, and agency.
439. 20:26–20:28The protagonist is a young woman named Pinky.
440. 20:28–20:32She is highly educated and she comes from a good, respectable family.
441. 20:32–20:36And she enters into an arranged marriage entirely believing that her new husband
442. 20:36–20:38is an assistant station master at the railway.
443. 20:38–20:41Which is a very respectable solid job.
444. 20:41–20:42Very solid.
445. 20:42–20:46But the twist, the inciting incident of the entire story is her sudden discovery that she
446. 20:46–20:47has been deceived.
447. 20:47–20:48Oh no.
448. 20:48–20:52Her husband is not the assistant station master, he's actually just a lowly poinsman.
449. 20:52–20:55Wait, what does a poinsman do?
450. 20:55–20:59He is the manual laborer who physically pulls the heavy levers for the train tracks out
451. 20:59–21:00in the yard.
452. 21:00–21:04Oh wow, so that is a massive betrayal of trust.
453. 21:04–21:05Massive.
454. 21:05–21:08like in traditional literature or honestly,
455. 21:08–21:10even in a modern soap opera,
456. 21:10–21:13this is the exact moment where the heroine
457. 21:13–21:16throws herself on the bed and weeps, right?
458. 21:16–21:19She realizes she's been deceived by her family,
459. 21:19–21:22by his family, she is trapped in a much lower
460. 21:22–21:24social station than she was promised.
461. 21:24–21:27She becomes the ultimate wronged woman trope.
462. 21:27–21:30That is exactly the expectation the narrative sets up.
463. 21:30–21:32It primes you for a tragedy,
464. 21:32–21:34but Pinky completely subverts it.
465. 21:34–21:35House.
466. 21:35–21:39Instead of collapsing into passive despair or fleeing back to her parents in shame, she
467. 21:39–21:41actively takes charge of the situation.
468. 21:41–21:42I love that.
469. 21:42–21:48The text notes that she remembers her wedding vows, which interestingly grounds her in tradition.
470. 21:48–21:52But she uses that tradition as a foundation for radical modern action.
471. 21:52–21:53What does she do?
472. 21:53–21:55She decides to forge her own destiny.
473. 21:55–21:59She basically sits her husband down, forces him to study, educates him herself, pushes
474. 21:59–22:00him through the ranks.
475. 22:00–22:01No.
476. 22:01–22:06By the end of the story, she has actually helped him become a real assistant station
477. 22:06–22:07master.
478. 22:07–22:08That is incredible.
479. 22:08–22:09She engineers her own redemption.
480. 22:09–22:10Exactly.
481. 22:10–22:11She doesn't wait for a savior.
482. 22:11–22:12She doesn't wallow in pity.
483. 22:12–22:15She just becomes the architect of her own reality.
484. 22:15–22:19It is a profound subversion of the standard patriarchal narrative.
485. 22:19–22:25It shows a modern Mayfield woman who absolutely refuses to be a victim of fate or social
486. 22:25–22:26deception.
487. 22:26–22:33She utilizes modern education to forcefully rewrite her socio-economic reality, elevating
488. 22:33–22:35both herself and her husband.
489. 22:35–22:38It's a very empowering view of modernity.
490. 22:38–22:39That's a great story.
491. 22:39–22:44But modernity isn't always portrayed so triumphantly in Shah's work, is it?
492. 22:44–22:45No, not at all.
493. 22:45–22:50Because the review details another story called Naya Vyapar, which feels significantly darker.
494. 22:50–22:51Much darker.
495. 22:51–22:55In this one you have this sick aging man named Jitendra Prasad.
496. 22:55–22:59entire family structure is completely fracturing around him. His children are
497. 22:59–23:03scattered, entirely obsessed with their own individual careers and lives in the
498. 23:03–23:07big city. But the truly haunting image of the story, the one that really stuck
499. 23:07–23:14with me, is his wife. She literally leaves him lying sick in bed so that she can
500. 23:14–23:18go attend an International Women's Day event. And she rides off on the back
501. 23:18–23:23of a colleague's scooter. That image is laced with such a very sharp, almost
502. 23:23–23:30bitter irony. Yeah. This story highlights the very deep anxieties within the culture about
503. 23:30–23:36the influx of Western individualistic values. How do you mean? Well, the traditional joint
504. 23:36–23:40family system, which historically functioned as the primary social safety net for people
505. 23:40–23:45in this region, is breaking down in these urban environments. Right, because everyone
506. 23:45–23:49is focused on themselves. Exactly. The pursuit of individual causes, even ostensibly
507. 23:49–23:54noble and progressive causes like Women's Day is portrayed here as coming at the direct
508. 23:54–23:57cost of fundamental traditional care.
509. 23:57–24:02The irony of the wife abandoning her vulnerable sick husband just to publicly celebrate Women's
510. 24:02–24:03Day.
511. 24:03–24:06It's a harsh critique of what the author views as performative modernity.
512. 24:06–24:07Right.
513. 24:07–24:08Like, who are you actually helping?
514. 24:08–24:09Exactly.
515. 24:09–24:16It asks the reader, what is the actual value of theoretical social progress if it requires
516. 24:16–24:19abandoning your most basic human duties to your family.
517. 24:19–24:21It's a devastating question.
518. 24:21–24:24And that theme of isolation within the family
519. 24:24–24:26continues in the story Calligar,
520. 24:26–24:28which translates to empty house, right?
521. 24:28–24:29Yes, empty house.
522. 24:29–24:32Here we have a couple, Jay Chandra and Jannaki.
523. 24:32–24:35And they live these completely parallel lives.
524. 24:35–24:38The reviewer describes them as train tracks that never meet.
525. 24:38–24:39A great metaphor.
526. 24:39–24:41Jannaki is described almost like a robot.
527. 24:41–24:43She perfectly and mechanically executes
528. 24:43–24:46all her traditional duties to her in-laws and the household,
529. 24:46–24:49But there is no warmth. It's just duty.
530. 24:49–24:53Meanwhile, Jay Chandra lives entirely in his own isolated world.
531. 24:53–24:59It is a chilling depiction of emotional starvation within the physical proximity of a traditional marriage.
532. 24:59–25:01Emotional starvation, I like that phrase.
533. 25:01–25:04The outward structure of the institution is perfectly maintained, right?
534. 25:04–25:07The chores are done, the family looks entirely intact from the outside,
535. 25:07–25:10but the internal emotional core is completely dead.
536. 25:10–25:12It's just an empty shell.
537. 25:12–25:13Exactly.
538. 25:13–25:19suggests that simply maintaining traditional structures isn't enough if the actual human
539. 25:19–25:20connection has evaporated.
540. 25:20–25:26And then all of these conflicting values, the independence, the tradition, the regret, they
541. 25:26–25:30all seem to just crash violently into each other in the story of Darsh.
542. 25:30–25:32Oh, this story is a gut punch.
543. 25:32–25:33It really is.
544. 25:33–25:36So a woman leaves her traditional husband and her mother-in-law.
545. 25:36–25:42She actively chooses to abandon her past because she desires modern independence.
546. 25:42–25:47Years later, she is working as a teacher, seemingly having achieved the independent life she always
547. 25:47–25:48wanted.
548. 25:48–25:51But then she encounters a young man in her staff room.
549. 25:51–25:55His name is Adarsh, which literally translates to ideal.
550. 25:55–25:57And the Oh Henry twist here is just devastating.
551. 25:57–25:58Right.
552. 25:58–26:03The young man, Adarsh, is the son of her ex-husband, the son she presumably left
553. 26:03–26:05behind or the son of the family she abandoned.
554. 26:05–26:09The psychological impact on the protagonist in that moment is profound.
555. 26:09–26:13She is suddenly forced to physically confront the life and the people she discarded for
556. 26:13–26:14her independence.
557. 26:14–26:16Yeah, you can't outrun it.
558. 26:16–26:17You can't.
559. 26:17–26:21The review suggests this story demonstrates the, quote, defeat of the divisive values
560. 26:21–26:25and the ultimate inescapable weight of traditional family ties.
561. 26:25–26:30The physical manifestation of a family she left behind standing right in front of her bearing
562. 26:30–26:35the name Ideal, it shakes her entire modern worldview to its core.
563. 26:35–26:36It's brilliant.
564. 26:36–26:40even a paranormal mystery mentioned in the collection called Lal Keetab involving a
565. 26:40–26:45red diary and a ghost, which just shows the sheer variety of genres Jha is playing with
566. 26:45–26:47to explore these themes.
567. 26:47–26:48He has tremendous range.
568. 26:48–26:49He does.
569. 26:49–26:53But listening to you analyze these plots, the deception in Pinkie's marriage, the isolated
570. 26:53–26:58sick father, the emotionally dead marriage of the train tracks, the regretful independent
571. 26:58–26:59teacher.
572. 26:59–27:00Yeah.
573. 27:00–27:01I have to ask.
574. 27:01–27:02What's that?
575. 27:02–27:05Do these stories frame modernity as an outright tragedy?
576. 27:05–27:11Is the city just inherently bad or is it just portrayed as a very messy reality that this culture simply has to navigate?
577. 27:11–27:20That is the crucial distinction to make. The source text suggests it is viewed as a profound, often very painful friction, but not necessarily a pure tragedy.
578. 27:20–27:20Okay.
579. 27:20–27:27Remember, Pinky uses modern education to save her marriage. That is a clear victory of modernity.
580. 27:27–27:30True. She used the tools of the modern world to her advantage.
581. 27:30–27:35Right. But there is an undeniable, deep-seated anxiety running through all these stories.
582. 27:35–27:41The transition from a communal village-based mindset where everyone is deeply interconnected
583. 27:41–27:47to an urban, individualistic metropolis mindset is leaving people emotionally stranded.
584. 27:47–27:48It's the isolation.
585. 27:48–27:52Exactly. The physical structures of the family might survive the move to the city,
586. 27:52–27:54but the emotional core is hollowing out.
587. 27:54–27:58Wow. And that friction between the modern metropolis and traditional village values
588. 27:58–28:00isn't just contained in short stories.
589. 28:00–28:01No, it's everywhere.
590. 28:01–28:03When we look at the next part of our source material,
591. 28:03–28:07we see it is the absolute central battleground
592. 28:07–28:08of modern Mithili novels.
593. 28:08–28:09Yes.
594. 28:09–28:11We have this really detailed review by Duganin Mandol
595. 28:11–28:14of a novel by Jagdish Prasad Mandol.
596. 28:14–28:16The novel is titled Javan Moran,
597. 28:16–28:18which translates to life and death.
598. 28:18–28:20The title is extremely apt
599. 28:20–28:22because the novel revolves entirely
600. 28:22–28:23around the rituals of passing.
601. 28:23–28:28The plot centers on a deeply respected elder in a village.
602. 28:28–28:30a man named Raghunandam.
603. 28:30–28:32And when he dies, his two sons
604. 28:32–28:34are forced to organize his funeral.
605. 28:34–28:35Okay.
606. 28:35–28:37But the sons represent the ultimate cultural divide
607. 28:37–28:38we've been talking about.
608. 28:38–28:39How so?
609. 28:39–28:42So the older son Devnandan lives in the village
610. 28:42–28:44and he wants to respect and execute
611. 28:44–28:46all the traditional village rights.
612. 28:46–28:48But the younger son, Dayanand,
613. 28:48–28:50represents the westernized youth.
614. 28:50–28:51Ah, he's the city boy.
615. 28:51–28:54Yes, he lives and works in the city.
616. 28:54–28:56And when he receives the news of his father's death,
617. 28:56–29:00His immediate reaction is heavily, almost coldly, pragmatic.
618. 29:00–29:01What does he say?
619. 29:01–29:02He essentially suggests,
620. 29:02–29:04why should I come all the way back to the village?
621. 29:04–29:08Why don't we just use an electric crematorium in the city to save time?
622. 29:08–29:09Oh, wow.
623. 29:09–29:14This specific conflict, the electric crematorium versus the traditional wooden pyre,
624. 29:14–29:20it is such an incredibly powerful, tangible metaphor for everything we've been discussing.
625. 29:20–29:22It is the perfect distillation of the debate.
626. 29:22–29:27Because day and end, the city's son views his father's funeral as a logistical problem.
627. 29:27–29:27Right.
628. 29:27–29:30A problem that needs to be solved as efficiently as possible.
629. 29:30–29:30Exactly.
630. 29:30–29:31Time is money in the city.
631. 29:31–29:32Right.
632. 29:32–29:33The electric crematorium is fast.
633. 29:33–29:34It's hygienic.
634. 29:34–29:35It's cheap.
635. 29:35–29:39And most importantly, it requires absolute minimal community involvement.
636. 29:39–29:41You go in, you press a button, you go back to work.
637. 29:41–29:42Precisely.
638. 29:42–29:48The electric crematorium represents the ultimate efficiency of modern individualism.
639. 29:48–29:50It privatizes grief.
640. 29:50–29:51That's it, exactly.
641. 29:51–29:55privatized grief. If I can use an analogy here for you listening. The Electric
642. 29:55–30:00Crematorium is like how we use social media to process tragedy today. Oh that's
643. 30:00–30:03interesting. How do you mean? Well it's fast, it's efficient. You can just click
644. 30:03–30:06a button to send a little condolence emoji or quick thoughts and prayers
645. 30:06–30:11post. But ultimately it is cold. It demands nothing of you physically. It
646. 30:11–30:14is completely disconnected from the actual visceral reality of the loss.
647. 30:14–30:20Whereas the traditional Village Funeral as it's painstakingly detailed in the
648. 30:20–30:26novel, it is like a messy, exhausting, deeply human, physical embrace.
649. 30:26–30:31That is a highly accurate parallel to what the reviewer, Dugan and Mandel, draws out
650. 30:31–30:32of the text.
651. 30:32–30:33Yes.
652. 30:33–30:37Because the novel doesn't just mention the traditional funeral and passing.
653. 30:37–30:42It intimately details how the entire village comes together for Raguindan's rights.
654. 30:42–30:44It takes a village, literally.
655. 30:44–30:45Literally.
656. 30:45–30:46Yeah.
657. 30:46–30:49The village is not just a geographical location on a map.
658. 30:49–30:53It is portrayed as a living, breathing, social organism.
659. 30:53–30:57And the review notes that the traditional pyre requires physical wood.
660. 30:57–31:00It requires building a fire. It requires intense physical labor.
661. 31:00–31:02And it demands time.
662. 31:02–31:06I think the text says 13 to 17 days of continuous rituals.
663. 31:06–31:07Yes, up to 17 days.
664. 31:07–31:10And that demand for time and labor is exactly the point.
665. 31:10–31:11It is.
666. 31:11–31:12Yes.
667. 31:12–31:17The traditional ritual forces the community to physically stop their individual lives.
668. 31:17–31:22The burden of the funeral, the grief, the cost, the sheer labor of it is distributed
669. 31:22–31:23among the entire community.
670. 31:23–31:24That's shared.
671. 31:24–31:25Exactly.
672. 31:25–31:29The review explicitly notes that during this time, the village actively ignores its usual
673. 31:29–31:31rigid cast lines.
674. 31:31–31:32Yes.
675. 31:32–31:35Everyone has a mandated necessary role.
676. 31:35–31:39From the Brahmin priests chanting the mantras to, there's a specific character mentioned,
677. 31:39–31:43Chitan, who is a member of the Dalit Domcast,
678. 31:43–31:45and his role is absolutely essential
679. 31:45–31:48in providing the fire for the pyre.
680. 31:48–31:50Wow, it's an entire ecosystem of grief.
681. 31:50–31:51It is.
682. 31:51–31:54The novel seems to suggest that while the city offers
683. 31:54–31:56this frictionless efficiency,
684. 31:56–31:59the village offers true shared humanity.
685. 31:59–32:02The traditional way is undeniably burdensome.
686. 32:02–32:05I mean, it takes weeks, it's exhausting, it's expensive,
687. 32:05–32:07but that very burden is exactly the glue
688. 32:07–32:09that binds the community together.
689. 32:09–32:10Yes, the shared burden is the glue.
690. 32:10–32:13If you remove the burden with a fast electric crematorium,
691. 32:13–32:14you remove the glue.
692. 32:14–32:15Trisely.
693. 32:15–32:18And this intense fear of losing that communal bond,
694. 32:18–32:20of losing the social clue,
695. 32:20–32:22it ties directly into another piece in the journal.
696. 32:22–32:23Which piece is that?
697. 32:23–32:26It is a highly-passioned, almost agonizing essay
698. 32:26–32:27by Muni Kamat, titled,
699. 32:27–32:29Kathajara Hal Cheeham,
700. 32:29–32:31which translates to, where are we going?
701. 32:31–32:32Ah, yes.
702. 32:32–32:34Kamat's piece is raw.
703. 32:34–32:37She isn't just debating the abstract philosophical values
704. 32:37–32:42city versus village like we just were. She is writing about tangible, terrifying
705. 32:42–32:47physical and moral destruction. She is very direct. Very. She points to rapid
706. 32:47–32:52deforestation, the literal destruction of the environment driven by human greed
707. 32:52–32:58and so-called development. But more horrifyingly, she writes extensively
708. 32:58–33:02about an epidemic of violence against women. Yes. She points out a terrifying
709. 33:02–33:06inversion of societal roles that she sees occurring as these traditional
710. 33:06–33:10morals decay. What kind of inversion? Well in a functioning society there are
711. 33:10–33:14archetypes of protection right? Yeah. Fathers, brothers and teachers are
712. 33:14–33:17traditionally fundamentally viewed as the protectors of the vulnerable. Right.
713. 33:17–33:21That's the social contract. Exactly. But Camot writes about the horrifying
714. 33:21–33:24modern reality where these very protectors are actively becoming the
715. 33:24–33:28abusers. Yeah. She writes this line that just stops you in your tracks. She
716. 33:28–33:32says, a brother has become a butcher and a father has taken the form of sin.
717. 33:32–33:34It is incredibly dark.
718. 33:34–33:36It is. She asks the reader,
719. 33:36–33:41how can we possibly build a clean modern society with such dirty feet?
720. 33:41–33:45If we synthesize Kamat's essay with the novel Jevon Moran,
721. 33:45–33:50we see a deeply unified theme running through the consciousness of this entire journal.
722. 33:50–33:51Right.
723. 33:51–33:54There is a profound existential anxiety that...
724. 33:54–33:58But, you know, it is important to remember that literature isn't just a eulogy.
725. 33:58–33:59No, not at all.
726. 33:59–34:00It isn't just about mourning the past.
727. 34:00–34:04It's also a tool for envisioning and demanding a fairer future,
728. 34:05–34:09which brings us to a really fascinating historical essay in the journal
729. 34:09–34:10by Dr. Arun Kumar Singh.
730. 34:11–34:16Yes, social harmony in post-independence, Mathili stories.
731. 34:16–34:16Exactly.
732. 34:16–34:20Dr. Singh's essay is absolutely crucial here because it provides
733. 34:20–34:24the vital historical context for literally everything we have discussed so far.
734. 34:24–34:26Okay, lay out the history for us.
735. 34:26–34:28He traces the long evolution of Mithili literature.
736. 34:29–34:31Historically, going back centuries,
737. 34:31–34:33Methili literature was heavily influenced
738. 34:33–34:35by Sanskrit and Bengali traditions.
739. 34:35–34:36Okay.
740. 34:36–34:38And because of those influences,
741. 34:38–34:39the literature primarily focused
742. 34:39–34:41on elite aristocratic themes.
743. 34:41–34:43The protagonists of the stories in poems
744. 34:43–34:45were high-caste individuals,
745. 34:45–34:47wealthy landowners,
746. 34:47–34:48or, you know, mythical figures
747. 34:48–34:49from the Grand Ethics.
748. 34:49–34:51Right, kings and gods.
749. 34:51–34:51Exactly.
750. 34:51–34:54The daily grinding concerns of the common people,
751. 34:54–34:56the laborers, the lowercasts.
752. 34:56–34:59They were largely absent from the formal written text.
753. 34:59–35:03But then, Dr. Singh notes, post-Independence India brings this massive seismic shift in
754. 35:03–35:04the literature.
755. 35:04–35:06Yes, a complete paradigm shift.
756. 35:06–35:08He points to a new wave of writers who emerged.
757. 35:08–35:13He names figures like the Lyle, Raj Kamal, Somdev, Ramanaan Renu, and notably Subhash
758. 35:13–35:15Chandra Yadav.
759. 35:15–35:16Yes.
760. 35:16–35:21Subhash Chandra Yadav, the very author we saw, being defended in that angry editorial
761. 35:21–35:23right at the beginning of our deep dive.
762. 35:23–35:24Full circle.
763. 35:24–35:26So, these writers completely shifted the lens.
764. 35:26–35:29They stopped looking at the palaces and started looking at the fields.
765. 35:29–35:33They started writing about the marginalized, the exploited, the working class, and the
766. 35:33–35:35Dalit communities.
767. 35:35–35:41And this shift introduces the core concept of Dr. Singh's entire essay, Samarasata.
768. 35:41–35:42Samarasata.
769. 35:42–35:45Yes, it translates roughly to social harmony.
770. 35:45–35:49But it is vital to understand that in the context of this specific literary movement,
771. 35:49–35:54Samarasata isn't just about a passive, quiet piece where everyone just blindly accepts
772. 35:54–35:55their Latin life.
773. 35:55–35:57Not just everyone get along.
774. 35:57–35:59No, it is an active radical concept.
775. 35:59–36:02It means actively giving a platform, a voice,
776. 36:02–36:05and visibility to those who are historically denied one.
777. 36:05–36:07Dr. Singh mentions specific stories
778. 36:07–36:09as turning points for this, right?
779. 36:09–36:10He does.
780. 36:10–36:12He cites Lalit's story, Ramjani,
781. 36:12–36:14which he calls an absolute masterpiece
782. 36:14–36:18for its unflinching exposure of feudal abuses.
783. 36:18–36:19And he mentions some dev stories
784. 36:19–36:22that depict the painful reality of the lower classes
785. 36:22–36:25with this deep, unprecedented intimacy,
786. 36:25–36:28the literature transformed from just entertainment
787. 36:28–36:32for the elite into a tool for actual social visibility.
788. 36:32–36:33Exactly.
789. 36:33–36:35It was about moving away from class conflict
790. 36:35–36:37by forcing the literary establishment
791. 36:37–36:39to actually acknowledge the humanity
792. 36:39–36:41and the reality of the marginalized.
793. 36:41–36:42Yes.
794. 36:42–36:44The art became a mechanism
795. 36:44–36:46for demanding structural change in society.
796. 36:46–36:49And this evolution perfectly connects back
797. 36:49–36:51to the bitter literary politics we discussed
798. 36:51–36:53right at the start of our deep dive.
799. 36:53–36:54Right, I was just thinking that,
800. 36:54–36:56because there is a glaring contradiction here
801. 36:56–36:57and I really wanna push back on it.
802. 36:57–36:58Go for it.
803. 36:58–37:00If Dr. Singh is right,
804. 37:00–37:03if the literature itself has spent the last 50 years
805. 37:03–37:05becoming progressively more inclusive,
806. 37:05–37:06focusing on the marginalized
807. 37:06–37:10and fighting for this radical Samarasata,
808. 37:10–37:13why are the institutions behind the literature
809. 37:13–37:15still allegedly stuck in vicious,
810. 37:15–37:17caste-based gatekeeping?
811. 37:17–37:18It's the million dollar question.
812. 37:18–37:20Right, if the art is so progressive,
813. 37:20–37:23Why is the editorial by Gajendra Thakur
814. 37:23–37:25screaming about paper organizations
815. 37:25–37:28and block monographs and black marketing?
816. 37:28–37:29It's a brilliant observation,
817. 37:29–37:32and it highlights the fundamental friction
818. 37:32–37:34between the art of a culture
819. 37:34–37:36and the industry that governs that art.
820. 37:36–37:37They're two different things.
821. 37:37–37:37Very different.
822. 37:37–37:41The writers, people like Lalit or Suhashtra under Yadav,
823. 37:41–37:43they are pushing the boundaries on the page.
824. 37:43–37:46They're exploring the lives of the marginalized
825. 37:46–37:48and advocating for a new social harmony.
826. 37:48–37:49Right.
827. 37:49–37:50But the institutions, the academies,
828. 37:50–37:55that distribute the funding, that publish the official monographs, that hand out the awards
829. 37:55–38:00and define the canon, they're still, at least according to the editorial, controlled by the
830. 38:00–38:06old guard. They're controlled by individuals who historically held the power back when
831. 38:06–38:08the literature was only about the elite.
832. 38:08–38:13So the fight over an award isn't just about ego or wanting a trophy, it's a fight over
833. 38:13–38:14the definition of progress.
834. 38:14–38:20Exactly. The fight is over who actually gets to define what social harmony looks like.
835. 38:20–38:26Is Samarasada defined by the traditional elites maintaining a polite, undisturbed order?
836. 38:26–38:32Or is it defined by the new, sometimes angry voices demanding structural change and equality?
837. 38:32–38:36The friction occurs and it boils over into those wild emails about WikiLeaks and the
838. 38:36–38:41gutter because the literature is evolving significantly faster than the institutions
839. 38:41–38:42governing it.
840. 38:42–38:45The art is in the 21st century, but the bureaucracy is struggling to leave the
841. 38:45–38:4619th.
842. 38:46–38:48That is perfectly stated.
843. 38:48–38:50That is such a fascinating tension.
844. 38:50–38:54The operating system of the culture is being completely rewritten by the authors, but the
845. 38:54–38:56old institutional hardware is struggling to run it.
846. 38:56–38:57I love that analogy.
847. 38:57–39:02Well, speaking of operating systems, that actually brings us to the final and honestly, perhaps
848. 39:02–39:07most technically fascinating part of the journal for me, the language laboratory.
849. 39:07–39:09Yes, the technical language debate.
850. 39:09–39:15Because amidst all the politics, the social transitions, the debates over modernity,
851. 39:15–39:22There is this intense laser-like focus on the actual granular mechanics of the Methili
852. 39:22–39:23language itself.
853. 39:23–39:24Right.
854. 39:24–39:28The journal dedicates a very significant amount of space to a fierce debate over education,
855. 39:28–39:33specifically advocating for higher education to be conducted in the mother tongue.
856. 39:33–39:38The author references guidelines from the University Grants Commission regarding PhDs.
857. 39:38–39:42They cite rulings from the Mumbai High Court, allowing native languages to be used in
858. 39:42–39:46public service interviews, and they even point to demands made by public figures like Baba
859. 39:46–39:48Ramdev regarding language rights.
860. 39:48–39:53The core argument they make here is fascinating because it's about cognitive processes, not
861. 39:53–39:54just cultural pride.
862. 39:54–39:57Yes, it's about how the brain actually works.
863. 39:57–39:58Right.
864. 39:58–40:01The text argues that the mother tongue is a person's first language of thought.
865. 40:01–40:05It is the language your brain uses to process reality.
866. 40:05–40:10So if you are forced to learn advanced complex concepts like quantum physics or advanced
867. 40:10–40:16macroeconomics in a secondary language like English, your brain is constantly running a
868. 40:16–40:21translation program in the background. Exactly. You lose cognitive efficiency,
869. 40:21–40:26you lose the deep intuitive connection to the material because you are expending mental energy
870. 40:26–40:32just decoding the vocabulary words rather than grasping the core concept. Exactly. And the
871. 40:32–40:36source provides a really fantastic thought experiment regarding technology and language
872. 40:36–40:41to illustrate this. Oh, the telephone example. Yes. It states that if the telephone had been
873. 40:41–40:46invented in India, the very first word spoken across it wouldn't have been hello. Right.
874. 40:46–40:51Because technology is imported, the vocabulary to describe that technology is imported with
875. 40:51–40:56it. And the journal argues that this creates a severe, almost insurmountable barrier to
876. 40:56–41:00native language adoption in the sciences. It's a huge problem. If a language doesn't
877. 41:00–41:05actively develop its own technical and scientific vocabulary, if it just defaults to using
878. 41:05–41:12English words for every single new invention, it becomes relegated entirely to the domestic sphere.
879. 41:12–41:18That is the ultimate danger of linguistic stagnation. If Mathili doesn't have words for microchips or
880. 41:18–41:24algorithms or frankly electric crematoriums, it ceases to be a language of progress.
881. 41:24–41:25It just gets left behind.
882. 41:25–41:30It becomes a language used only for poetry, for folklore, for kitchen conversations with
883. 41:30–41:31with your grandparents.
884. 41:31–41:35Meanwhile, English or Hindi becomes the exclusive
885. 41:35–41:38language of the future, of science, of ambition.
886. 41:38–41:39Right.
887. 41:39–41:42The journal is arguing that for a language to truly survive,
888. 41:42–41:45it must be able to describe the future, not just the past.
889. 41:45–41:48Which means the language risks becoming a museum exhibit
890. 41:48–41:50rather than a living tool.
891. 41:50–41:52But if we are going to talk about the language being used
892. 41:52–41:55for poetry, we absolutely have to talk about Ashish
893. 41:55–41:58Enshanhar's guide to writing Ghazals in Mithili.
894. 41:58–41:59Oh, we do.
895. 41:59–42:03without a doubt the most mind-bending unexpected part of the journal for me.
896. 42:03–42:07I always thought of poetry as this like free-flowing emotional expression of the soul.
897. 42:07–42:08Yeah, most people do.
898. 42:08–42:12But the guide presented here, this is mathematics, this is pure engineering.
899. 42:12–42:18It is highly, highly technical. A gazelle, just for some quick context, is a poetic form
900. 42:18–42:24consisting of rhyming couplets and a refrain. It originated in Arabic poetry but was deeply
901. 42:24–42:28adapted into Persian or Urdu and eventually various South Asian languages including Nathalie.
902. 42:29–42:31And Ankenhar's guide in the journal
903. 42:31–42:34breaks down the absolute unyielding rigidity
904. 42:34–42:37required to write a true structurally sound gazale
905. 42:37–42:38and mathily.
906. 42:38–42:40Let's unpack these rules for the listener
907. 42:40–42:41because they are intense.
908. 42:41–42:44First, you have the concept of the Radif.
909. 42:44–42:45The Radif, yes.
910. 42:45–42:47This is the word, or sometimes a short phrase,
911. 42:47–42:50that must be repeated at the exact end of every single line
912. 42:50–42:52in the couplet throughout the entire poem.
913. 42:52–42:53Correct.
914. 42:53–42:54The Radif is the anchor of the poem.
915. 42:54–42:57But the real terrifying complexity for a poet
916. 42:57–42:59lies in the kafia.
917. 42:59–43:03The kuffia is the rhyming word that comes immediately preceding the
918. 43:03–43:06relief. And the guide makes it clear that it's not just about finding words that
919. 43:06–43:10sort of sound alike like a loose rhyme in a pop song. No, there is no close enough.
920. 43:10–43:16The rules for the kuffia are incredibly strict. It is about matching vowel sounds
921. 43:16–43:18perfectly. Let me give the exact example from the text.
922. 43:18–43:23The four of it. If your kuffia ends in the consonant G and the vowel preceding
923. 43:23–43:28that G is an A like in the word rag, then every single kuffia in the entire
924. 43:28–43:32The finger grazeau must match that exact A plus G phonetic structure.
925. 43:32–43:36Yes, you can use words like tag or bag or jog.
926. 43:36–43:37Okay, that sounds easy enough.
927. 43:37–43:42But, and this is the kicker, you absolutely cannot use a word where the internal vowel
928. 43:42–43:45changes, even slightly, even if it ends in G.
929. 43:45–43:47Oh wow.
930. 43:47–43:50The guide goes into deep phonetic elision.
931. 43:50–43:54It explains the rules for what happens when you drop an E or Y sound in the Thilley
932. 43:54–43:59pronunciation and how that specific drop directly impacts the legality of the
933. 43:59–44:02kuffia. It's like grammar police on steroids. It even dictates the strict
934. 44:02–44:06guidelines on using an amusfar, which is the nasal dot used in the written script,
935. 44:06–44:11versus using a panchamakshar, which is the specific fifth nasal consonant of a
936. 44:11–44:16phonetic class. That is so specific. The poet must maintain absolute flawless
937. 44:16–44:20consistency in these microscopic phonetic details. The level of
938. 44:20–44:22Discipline required is staggering.
939. 44:22–44:24If I can use another analogy here,
940. 44:24–44:27it is exactly like a complex mathematical algorithm
941. 44:27–44:29or writing a piece of software code.
942. 44:29–44:30Yes, that is.
943. 44:30–44:33In code, if you miss one variable,
944. 44:33–44:34if you forget one semi-colon,
945. 44:34–44:38or if you accidentally swap an A for an E in line 14,
946. 44:38–44:40the entire program crashes.
947. 44:40–44:41It just won't run.
948. 44:41–44:42It breaks.
949. 44:42–44:43According to Anshunhar's guide,
950. 44:43–44:46the gazal is exactly the same.
951. 44:46–44:48If you mess up the internal vowel of the kafia
952. 44:48–44:53in the sixth stanza. The poem doesn't just sound a bit clunky, it is structurally invalid.
953. 44:53–44:55The program crashes.
954. 44:55–44:59What is truly beautiful about this rigidity, though, especially when you view it in the
955. 44:59–45:03context of the entire journal, is what it demands of the writer.
956. 45:03–45:04What do you mean?
957. 45:04–45:07Think about everything we have discussed today. The Mayfield Society is changing at
958. 45:07–45:12breakneck speed. Families are fracturing in the cities, villages are modernizing,
959. 45:12–45:17electric crematoriums are replacing pires, political battles are raging over awards
960. 45:17–45:21and cannons, everything is in a state of absolute flux.
961. 45:21–45:25But the linguistic rules of the gazale, they remain absolute.
962. 45:25–45:26Wow, yeah.
963. 45:26–45:27They're completely unyielding.
964. 45:27–45:33To write a successful gazale, the poet cannot just rely on passion or raw emotion.
965. 45:33–45:37They must possess total mathematical mastery of their mother tongue.
966. 45:37–45:39It forces preservation through discipline.
967. 45:39–45:40Exactly.
968. 45:40–45:44It shows that a language isn't just a casual means of communication, it is a profound
969. 45:44–45:47architectural structure of thought.
970. 45:47–45:52The gazal forces the poet to preserve the phonetic purity of the language, acting as a bulwark
971. 45:52–45:54against linguistic decay.
972. 45:54–45:55It's incredible.
973. 45:55–45:59You have this language that is literally fighting for its life in the modern world, fighting
974. 45:59–46:04for space and university classrooms, fighting against the tide of imported English technical
975. 46:04–46:07vocabulary, but within the walls of a gazal.
976. 46:07–46:08Yes.
977. 46:08–46:09Within the gazal, it is pristine.
978. 46:09–46:12It is perfect, controlled and completely unyielding.
979. 46:12–46:17It is a sanctuary of structure amidst the chaos of transition.
980. 46:17–46:22Okay, we have covered an immense amount of ground today.
981. 46:22–46:27Let's take a breath and just recap the sweeping journey we've been on through the pages of
982. 46:27–46:28Vidaeus at Eiat 12.
983. 46:28–46:30It has been a long journey.
984. 46:30–46:35We started in the bitter combative trenches of literary politics, right?
985. 46:35–46:40Looking at explosive allegations of caste-based gatekeeping, blocked monographs, and the
986. 46:40–46:45fierce fight over who gets to define the cultural canon through institutions like the Sahita
987. 46:45–46:46to academia.
988. 46:46–46:50And from there, we saw the vital international celebration
989. 46:50–46:51of the language across the border
990. 46:51–46:53at the Nepalese presidential palace.
991. 46:53–46:54Right, the seven books.
992. 46:54–46:56And we explored the crucial work of pioneers
993. 46:56–47:00like Manipadma, who preserved oral folk deities
994. 47:00–47:03by bravely writing them into the formal literary record.
995. 47:03–47:06Then we dove deep into the psychological transitions
996. 47:06–47:08of modernizing families in Sujee Kumar Shah's short
997. 47:08–47:09stories.
998. 47:09–47:12We watched traditional roles fracture and reform in the city,
999. 47:12–47:14from pinkies subverting the wronged woman trope
1000. 47:14–47:18to the isolated sick father abandoned for a modern holiday.
1001. 47:18–47:19Such a powerful contrast.
1002. 47:19–47:22And we contrasted that urban isolation
1003. 47:22–47:24with the deep anxieties over moral decay
1004. 47:24–47:27and the loss of communal bonds in the village,
1005. 47:27–47:30which was perfectly symbolized by the intense debate
1006. 47:30–47:33over the efficiency of the electric crematorium
1007. 47:33–47:35versus the heavy shared human burden
1008. 47:35–47:37of the traditional funeral pyre.
1009. 47:37–47:39We also examined the evolution
1010. 47:39–47:41of the literature itself with Dr. Singh,
1011. 47:41–47:44moving from elite aristocratic concerns
1012. 47:44–47:48to actively giving a voice to the marginalized
1013. 47:48–47:52in the radical pursuit of samar-sata or social harmony.
1014. 47:52–47:54And finally, we explored the language laboratories
1015. 47:54–47:58seeing how Mathili struggles to adopt scientific vocabulary
1016. 47:58–48:01while simultaneously preserving its brilliant structural beauty
1017. 48:01–48:04in the incredibly rigid mathematical coding of the gazal.
1018. 48:04–48:07It truly is a comprehensive stunning portrait
1019. 48:07–48:10of a culture in active, passionate transition.
1020. 48:10–48:11It really is.
1021. 48:11–48:14And it leaves me with one final thought to ponder,
1022. 48:14–48:16bringing us right back to where we started.
1023. 48:16–48:16What's that?
1024. 48:16–48:19Today we saw how a language fights to survive
1025. 48:19–48:21through messy vitriolic politics,
1026. 48:21–48:24through heart-wrenching stories of social change,
1027. 48:24–48:27and through strict, unbreakable poetic rules.
1028. 48:27–48:28But if a culture's language
1029. 48:28–48:30is the operating system of its people,
1030. 48:30–48:32the invisible code that dictates
1031. 48:32–48:34how they perceive reality,
1032. 48:34–48:36what happens when the youth no longer know the code?
1033. 48:36–48:38That is the question.
1034. 48:38–48:39Will the mythility of the future
1035. 48:39–48:41be perfectly preserved frozen
1036. 48:41–48:44in the rigid mathematics of beautiful gazelles?
1037. 48:44–48:48Or will it have to fundamentally break its own rules to survive the cold, fast efficiency
1038. 48:48–48:51of the electric crematoriums of the modern world?
1039. 48:51–48:56That is the existential question every ancient language must answer as it faces the future.
1040. 48:56–48:58Something for all of us to mull over.
1041. 48:58–49:00Thank you for joining us and remember to keep diving deep.

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वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो वो � information act and hurling these deeply personal insults about colleagues being quote down in the gutter. Yeah, it gets intense. It really does. But the stack of sources we have for you today, and yes, I'm talking to our listeners that are right there with us, it proves that the reality of this world is anything but quiet. Oh, it is absolutely explosive. It is. And so I have a question for you before we even start. Have you ever really considered how much drama and intense passion and, well, strict, mathematical precision actually goes into keeping a language alive? It's completely counterintuitive, honestly. I mean, we all kind of assume that literature, especially regional literature, exists in this serene academic bubble. Right, protected from the real world. Exactly. But when you are dealing with a language that is actively fighting for its space, its resources, and, you know, its very identity in the modern world, that bubble just completely bursts. The stakes become incredibly surprisingly high. Well, okay, let's unpack this because that is our exact mission for today's deep dive. Let's do it. We are looking at a really fascinating primary source today. It's a collection of excerpts from an e-journal called Wideja Sedeja 12. Polished back in 2012, right? 2012, yep. It's a Mathili publication and it's totally official, Complete with an ISSN number 2229-547X for the record. Very official. And we are going to use these pages to unpack the vibrant and honestly sometimes incredibly contentious but deeply rich world of modern Mayfuly literature. It's a huge topic. It is. We're going to navigate the fierce political infighting over literary awards. We'll look at the profound psychological struggle between modern city life and traditional village values. Which is a huge theme in this journal. Massive. And then we'll look at the push to elevate marginalized voices. And finally, we are gonna end on the incredibly strict rules of writing a Mathilli Gazal. Oh, the Gazal rules. I can't wait for that part. It's like math. But before we get there, set the scene for us. What exactly is the cultural landscape we are stepping into here? Like for someone who isn't familiar. Right, so to really grasp the intensity of these texts, we first need to understand the language itself. Mathili is an ancient Indo-Aryan language. Okay. And it's spoken primarily in the Bihar and Tarkhan states of India. But significantly, and this is important, it's also spoken across the border in the Eastern Terai region of Nepal. Oh wow, so it's transnational. Exactly, so right out of the gate, you're dealing with a language that spans an international border, and it carries this massive, massive amount of historical weight. Right, because it's not just a dialect, right? No, not at all. its own script, its own incredibly deep literary traditions, and a vast population of speakers who are currently like right now navigating this extreme transition. A transition from what to what, exactly. From a largely agrarian, you know, village-based society to a highly urbanized, globalized 21st century reality. Okay, yeah. And as we see right on the very first pages of this journal, that transition is generating a massive amount of heat. Oh, absolute fire. The first piece we encounter is this editorial written by Gagendra Thakur. And I mean, it immediately drops us into the absolute battlefield of literary politics and patronage. It really does. It reads less like an academic introduction and way more like a fiery expose. Yes. But wait, before we really dive into the specifics of this editorial, I think we need to make something very clear to everyone. Oh, absolutely. This is crucial. Right. So we are looking at the source material completely impartially. We are simply reporting the claims and allegations exactly as the author of this editorial has laid them out. Exactly. We are not endorsing either side of these very heated, highly politically and socially charged arguments. Not at all. Our goal here is strictly to understand the dynamics that are at play within this specific literary community purely as they are framed by this text. Perfect. Yes. We are looking at this text as an artifact. A very spicy artifact. Very. What this artifact alleges is that the Mathili literary community is deeply, deeply fractured by caste-based gatekeeping. The editorial specifically claims there is this clash between Bramanical and Kayasta ideologies and that this clash is dictating who gets published, who gets awarded, and ultimately who gets erased from the cultural record. Yeah, the author, Gijendra Thakur, he does not mince words at all. He points to very, very specific examples to build his case. What kind of examples? For instance, he alleges there was a deliberate coordinated conspiracy against this specific author named Suhashtan Jayadav and his book, Baneet Be Great. Okay, a conspiracy. Why him? The text claims that because Yadav absolutely refuses to compromise on his ideology and because he actively fights for his community's language, he essentially became a target. Wow. Yeah. And Taku doesn't just vaguely gesture at the establishment. He specifically names influential figures like Ramdev Chah and Mohan Faradwaj as the architects of this targeting. He's naming names. That is bold for an academic journal. It is. And the allegations, they go way beyond just a single book. Right, because then he talks about a monograph, right? Yes. So he claims that a monograph, which is a very detailed academic study on a single subject on a writer named Raj Kamal Chaudhary, which, importantly, was also written by Sipashtan Chanda Yadav. So it's the same guy again? Exactly. He claims this monograph was deliberately blocked from publication by the Sahitya Academy. Okay, wait. Let's pause there for you listening, because if you don't know the context, that might not sound like a huge deal. But the Sahitya Academy is India's national academy of letters, right? It is massive. It is an incredibly prestigious government-backed institution. So having a book blocked by them isn't just like getting a rejection letter from a small indie press. No, not at all. The author is framing this as a deliberate act of institutional silencing by these specific named individuals. That is heavy. But I guess, and maybe this is a naive question, why does it matter that much? Like why would a block monograph warrant such a furious, blistering editorial? It's a great question, and to understand it, we really have to look at the mechanics of how cultural preservation actually works. Okay, walk me through it. Why do literary awards and publications from institutions like the Sahija Academy matter. It isn't just about getting a nice shiny plaque for your wall or a bit of prize money. These institutions literally dictate the historical canon. They decide who gets recorded in the National Archives. They determine which specific dialect, which vocabulary and which social perspective of the language is deemed the standard. Oh, I see. And then that standard is what gets taught in schools. Exactly. It's what gets preserved for centuries. It's the official record. So it's basically the keys to the cultural kingdom. Like if you aren't in the canon, did you even exist? Precisely. When a language community feels its resources are scarce. Or when it feels the immense pressure of a rapidly globalizing world that clearly prioritizes English or Hindi. Yeah, that pressure must be intense. It is. And so the stakes for controlling those internal literary resources become completely existential. Because whoever controls the awards, they control the entire narrative of what My Thile literature actually is. Man, I really wanna pull on that thread because the editorial actually takes this a step further. Oh, it goes much further. Yeah, it explicitly accuses various cultural institutions of quote, black marketing for coordinator posts at the Sahita Academy in Delhi. Such a strong phrase. Right, black marketing. And it lists specific organizations. It calls out the Vidyapati Seva Sanstan in Darbhanga, the Chetna Samiti in Patna and several others. Bucker basically claims that many of these are just paper organizations. Like they are run entirely on cast, regional and hereditary lines rather than operating on any kind of genuine literary merit. Yeah, and using the term black marketing in literary context is just incredibly loaded. It sounds illegal. It implies that influence, prestige and representation are literally commodities. being illicitly traded behind closed doors by power brokers rather than being earned through the actual merit of the art. That's wild. The author is essentially suggesting a complete institutional failure, saying the bodies that are meant to champion the language are instead being used as personal fiefdoms. It honestly reminds me of like a really fierce local election or even the intense clique dynamics of a high school but scaled up to this grand culturally existential level. That's a really good analogy actually. The stakes just feel astronomically high precisely because the community is so insulated, you know. You are fighting over this very specific, very vital piece of cultural real estate. And the editorial goes on to harshly criticize recent awards too, down to the granular level. Oh yeah, it attacks a youth award given to Anand Kumar Chah. It claims the whole selection process for him was highly questionable. And then it just straight up calls another author, Pankar's Parashar, a thief. It says he's a thief being protected by his cast peers. It's relentless. It really is. And it even goes after a children's literature award. The award was given to Merlid Hartjof for his book Pilpila Gash. And the editorial claims it isn't even proper children's literature. And then this is the craziest part to me. It mocks him for proudly wearing the traditional garland and headdress, the pog, while accepting the award. I mean, the sheer granular level of these grievances is wild. to go down to criticizing the traditional headwear someone chose to wear at an award ceremony. It just shows how deeply personal this all is. It's so personal. But the raw emotion in the text, it truly culminates in a piece of actual evidence the editor includes. Oh, the email. The email is a poorly written English email, presented right there as a direct artifact of a real world dispute. Okay, this email is wild. I actually have a bit of this for you listening because it perfectly captures the exact friction we are talking about. Please do. OK, so the email is complaining about a write to information or RTI report regarding some translation assignments. Right, which is a legal mechanism in India. Exactly. And it accuses the journal's team of propagating, quote, some sort of WikiLeaks. Unbelievable. And then it just completely devolves. It says, though during the debate, I found your esteemed literary colleague Priyanka Chah down to the gutter. She had neither the manner nor mind to enter into a debate of literary kind. It is such a remarkable jarring artifact to just find randomly in the pages of an academic literary journal. It really strips away the polite veneer, doesn't it? Entirely. I mean, think about the elements that are colliding in that single email. You have individuals using state legal mechanisms, the Right to Information Act, to audit translation assignments. You have them invoking global geopolitical controversies, like WikiLeaks, to describe local literary gossip. It's so dramatic. And then they resort to these deeply personal, highly gendered insults like Town to the Gutter. It just proves that the tension isn't theoretical at all. It isn't just polite disagreement over syntax in a classroom. It is playing out viciously in their actual inboxes. Absolutely. But I have to pose a question to you based on all this mudslinging. Because looking at this level of intense bitter in fighting, is this a sign of a dying language? Like is this just people fighting over the last few scraps of funding and recognition in a shrinking ecosystem? Or is it actually the exact opposite? Ringing. I mean, is this a sign of a deeply passionate community, a community that cares so intensely about its cultural output that they're willing to literally go to war over a translation assignment? You know, that is perhaps the most profound question raised by this first text. It hits on the central paradox of any culture that is under pressure. On one hand, factionalism is undeniably destructive, right? It drains limited resources, it exhausts the community. Yeah, and I imagine it alienates people. Oh, completely. It alienates young new writers who just want to share their work and don't want to navigate a political minefield just to publish a single poem. Totally. But on the other hand, apathy is the true death of a language. Oh, that's a great point. The very fact that someone cares enough to go through the legal trouble of filing an RTI request. Yeah. Just to find out who received a translation assignment? That proves that the assignment still matters deeply. Give it care. Yes. The literature is alive enough to fight over. I mean, if the language were truly dead, no one would bother arguing about who gets to wear the pie at the awards ceremony. They just wouldn't care. That is a really fascinating way to look at it. The anger is a pulse. It means the patient is alive. Exactly. A very high blood pressure pulse, maybe. But a pulse nonetheless. Ah, yes. And what's really incredible is that despite all this intense gatekeeping we just talked about, despite the bitter controversies in the editorial rooms of Delhi and Darbhanga, the actual work of creating and celebrating art is completely unstopped. It is thriving. Not yet. In fact, it is crossing international borders. It is. The source material pivots quite dramatically right after this. It goes from this very internal localized conflict to an international celebration. Right. The journal features a really detailed report from Rajbiraj, which is a city in Nepal, regarding the Mathili Pratipa Puraskar. Which is a major talent award, right? It's a very significant award. And what I love about this report is how diverse the list of winners is. They awarded seven individuals, they recognized a poet, Sagar Vir Kadari, but they also recognized a radio actor, Jabak Das. And they recognized musicians too, like Devendra Andres Ahasone and Preeti Adhikari, I feel like it really highlights this literature isn't just words printed on a page, you know. It is a living, breathing, auditory and performative culture. I agree completely. And the cross-border nature of this celebration is just so vital to understand. Because it's not just happening in India. Right. Following the report on the Rajbiraaj awards, the text details a massive event at Sheetal Nuis. What's Sheetal Nuis for context? Ashid al-Nuwas is the official residence of the president of Nepal. Oh wow, so this is a huge deal. A very huge deal. The Nepalese president at the time, Ram Bir and Yadav, officially launched seven books by a single journalist and author named Rajendra Nepali. Wait, seven books dropped at once by one guy? Seven books, yes. That is a staggering amount of creative output. Who has the time? It really is incredible. And the titles of these books are incredibly telling too. We have one called Laktantra Kallalima, which points to the dawn or the redness of democracy. We have Vichar Kranti, which hints at a revolution of thought. There is Nav Nepal or New Nepal, and a book called Sohuggan. They all sound so politically and socially charged. They absolutely are. And what really stands out in this report is that the president of Nepal specifically praised Rajendra Nepali for his dual role. His dual role? Yeah, he lauded him as both a journalist and a literary figure. He noted his crucial work in keeping the history of the Mithila region, and specifically, it's martyrs alive. This perfectly illustrates how literature in this specific regional context serves as a crucial bridge. Yeah, because you have two sovereign nations, India and Nepal. Right. Two nations that share this deep linguistic and cultural heritage. And the literature acts as this unifying thread that just completely transcends the political border. It allows a shared history to survive, regardless of lines on a map. It's so powerful. And speaking of cementing history, The journal also covers a book launched back in India in Saharsa. Yep. This was for Dr. Devanarayan Saa's critical study of an author known simply as Manipadma. And this study was launched by a Sahitya Academy winner, Professor Mayanand Mishra. So again, some heavy hitters involved here. From what the sources tell us, this guy Manipadma was an absolute pioneer. Manipadma is a monumental figure in this landscape. His inclusion in this journal is deeply significant. Why is that? What did he do? The text notes, he was the first Mathili detective novelist. Which is a fun fact, a fascinating genre milestone in itself. It is. But his true lasting significance lies in his relationship to folklore. Manipadma was actually the first author to give formal literary shape to regional folk deities. Oh right. The text mentions names like Loric, Sáhez, and Chouharmal. Yes, exactly. And to really understand why this was such a massive cultural shift, We have to look at the historical divide between oral and written traditions. Okay, lay it out for me. In many cultures, really, across the globe, oral traditions. The stories passed down by the common people, the village myths, the songs of the laborers. Right, the stuff that isn't written down in fancy books. Exactly. Those oral traditions are often marginalized by the established written canon. The written canon is usually controlled by the elite, the educated, the upper casts. Okay, yeah, that makes sense. So, by taking these oral deities, Loric, Solhez, Chouharmal, and writing them into formal novels, Manipadma essentially legitimized oral history. He took the stories of the village of the common folk and forced the literary establishment to recognize them as high art. He essentially smuggled the village into the library. That's a perfect way to phrase it, yes. He completely democratized the literature. And now, by having Dr. Saw write a critical study of Manipodma, that legacy is cemented. Because critical studies are kind of like the machinery of preservation. Precisely. An author might be very popular in their own time, but critical studies are what ensure that author is actually taught in universities 50 years later. They validate the work academically. It really just shows how incredibly diverse this whole ecosystem is. I mean, we go from bitter, mud-slinging arguments over who gets a modern fellowship to a presidential palace launching seven blocks on democracy, to celebrating the guy who wrote the first Mathili detective novel and legitimized folk gods. This is a vibrant, chaotic mix. It really is. But here's where my mind goes. How does all of this vast history, all these big political themes, actually filter down into the daily lives of the people speaking the language today? That is the big question. Right. And the journal tackles this head-on with a really comprehensive review by Dr. Regendro Vimal. He reviews a short story collection called Jindagi. Ah yes, Jindagi, written by Sujit Kumarjha. This review is honestly a phenomenal window into the current psychological state of the Mathili middle class. Okay, tell me more. What's his style like? Well, Dr. Vimal highly praises Ja's style, particularly his conciseness and his incredible psychological depth. He specifically compares Ja's narrative structure to the American writer, O. Henry. Oh, I love a good O. Henry comparison. There is literally nothing better than getting to the last paragraph of a story and having the rug completely pulled out from under you forcing you to reevaluate every single thing you just read. Exactly. And Dr. Vimal notes how Jalah uses those sharp unexpected twist endings to suddenly reveal a really deep, often very uncomfortable psychological truth about his characters. And the story summarized in this review. They all seem to be dealing with this intense friction of modernity. They captured the urban transition perfectly. They really do. Let's actually break some of these plots down for you listening because they are incredibly rich. Let's start with the story called Fawful Fulacra Hall. Right. So this story is a brilliant, brilliant examination of class, expectation, and agency. The protagonist is a young woman named Pinky. She is highly educated and she comes from a good, respectable family. And she enters into an arranged marriage entirely believing that her new husband is an assistant station master at the railway. Which is a very respectable solid job. Very solid. But the twist, the inciting incident of the entire story is her sudden discovery that she has been deceived. Oh no. Her husband is not the assistant station master, he's actually just a lowly poinsman. Wait, what does a poinsman do? He is the manual laborer who physically pulls the heavy levers for the train tracks out in the yard. Oh wow, so that is a massive betrayal of trust. Massive. like in traditional literature or honestly, even in a modern soap opera, this is the exact moment where the heroine throws herself on the bed and weeps, right? She realizes she's been deceived by her family, by his family, she is trapped in a much lower social station than she was promised. She becomes the ultimate wronged woman trope. That is exactly the expectation the narrative sets up. It primes you for a tragedy, but Pinky completely subverts it. House. Instead of collapsing into passive despair or fleeing back to her parents in shame, she actively takes charge of the situation. I love that. The text notes that she remembers her wedding vows, which interestingly grounds her in tradition. But she uses that tradition as a foundation for radical modern action. What does she do? She decides to forge her own destiny. She basically sits her husband down, forces him to study, educates him herself, pushes him through the ranks. No. By the end of the story, she has actually helped him become a real assistant station master. That is incredible. She engineers her own redemption. Exactly. She doesn't wait for a savior. She doesn't wallow in pity. She just becomes the architect of her own reality. It is a profound subversion of the standard patriarchal narrative. It shows a modern Mayfield woman who absolutely refuses to be a victim of fate or social deception. She utilizes modern education to forcefully rewrite her socio-economic reality, elevating both herself and her husband. It's a very empowering view of modernity. That's a great story. But modernity isn't always portrayed so triumphantly in Shah's work, is it? No, not at all. Because the review details another story called Naya Vyapar, which feels significantly darker. Much darker. In this one you have this sick aging man named Jitendra Prasad. entire family structure is completely fracturing around him. His children are scattered, entirely obsessed with their own individual careers and lives in the big city. But the truly haunting image of the story, the one that really stuck with me, is his wife. She literally leaves him lying sick in bed so that she can go attend an International Women's Day event. And she rides off on the back of a colleague's scooter. That image is laced with such a very sharp, almost bitter irony. Yeah. This story highlights the very deep anxieties within the culture about the influx of Western individualistic values. How do you mean? Well, the traditional joint family system, which historically functioned as the primary social safety net for people in this region, is breaking down in these urban environments. Right, because everyone is focused on themselves. Exactly. The pursuit of individual causes, even ostensibly noble and progressive causes like Women's Day is portrayed here as coming at the direct cost of fundamental traditional care. The irony of the wife abandoning her vulnerable sick husband just to publicly celebrate Women's Day. It's a harsh critique of what the author views as performative modernity. Right. Like, who are you actually helping? Exactly. It asks the reader, what is the actual value of theoretical social progress if it requires abandoning your most basic human duties to your family. It's a devastating question. And that theme of isolation within the family continues in the story Calligar, which translates to empty house, right? Yes, empty house. Here we have a couple, Jay Chandra and Jannaki. And they live these completely parallel lives. The reviewer describes them as train tracks that never meet. A great metaphor. Jannaki is described almost like a robot. She perfectly and mechanically executes all her traditional duties to her in-laws and the household, But there is no warmth. It's just duty. Meanwhile, Jay Chandra lives entirely in his own isolated world. It is a chilling depiction of emotional starvation within the physical proximity of a traditional marriage. Emotional starvation, I like that phrase. The outward structure of the institution is perfectly maintained, right? The chores are done, the family looks entirely intact from the outside, but the internal emotional core is completely dead. It's just an empty shell. Exactly. suggests that simply maintaining traditional structures isn't enough if the actual human connection has evaporated. And then all of these conflicting values, the independence, the tradition, the regret, they all seem to just crash violently into each other in the story of Darsh. Oh, this story is a gut punch. It really is. So a woman leaves her traditional husband and her mother-in-law. She actively chooses to abandon her past because she desires modern independence. Years later, she is working as a teacher, seemingly having achieved the independent life she always wanted. But then she encounters a young man in her staff room. His name is Adarsh, which literally translates to ideal. And the Oh Henry twist here is just devastating. Right. The young man, Adarsh, is the son of her ex-husband, the son she presumably left behind or the son of the family she abandoned. The psychological impact on the protagonist in that moment is profound. She is suddenly forced to physically confront the life and the people she discarded for her independence. Yeah, you can't outrun it. You can't. The review suggests this story demonstrates the, quote, defeat of the divisive values and the ultimate inescapable weight of traditional family ties. The physical manifestation of a family she left behind standing right in front of her bearing the name Ideal, it shakes her entire modern worldview to its core. It's brilliant. even a paranormal mystery mentioned in the collection called Lal Keetab involving a red diary and a ghost, which just shows the sheer variety of genres Jha is playing with to explore these themes. He has tremendous range. He does. But listening to you analyze these plots, the deception in Pinkie's marriage, the isolated sick father, the emotionally dead marriage of the train tracks, the regretful independent teacher. Yeah. I have to ask. What's that? Do these stories frame modernity as an outright tragedy? Is the city just inherently bad or is it just portrayed as a very messy reality that this culture simply has to navigate? That is the crucial distinction to make. The source text suggests it is viewed as a profound, often very painful friction, but not necessarily a pure tragedy. Okay. Remember, Pinky uses modern education to save her marriage. That is a clear victory of modernity. True. She used the tools of the modern world to her advantage. Right. But there is an undeniable, deep-seated anxiety running through all these stories. The transition from a communal village-based mindset where everyone is deeply interconnected to an urban, individualistic metropolis mindset is leaving people emotionally stranded. It's the isolation. Exactly. The physical structures of the family might survive the move to the city, but the emotional core is hollowing out. Wow. And that friction between the modern metropolis and traditional village values isn't just contained in short stories. No, it's everywhere. When we look at the next part of our source material, we see it is the absolute central battleground of modern Mithili novels. Yes. We have this really detailed review by Duganin Mandol of a novel by Jagdish Prasad Mandol. The novel is titled Javan Moran, which translates to life and death. The title is extremely apt because the novel revolves entirely around the rituals of passing. The plot centers on a deeply respected elder in a village. a man named Raghunandam. And when he dies, his two sons are forced to organize his funeral. Okay. But the sons represent the ultimate cultural divide we've been talking about. How so? So the older son Devnandan lives in the village and he wants to respect and execute all the traditional village rights. But the younger son, Dayanand, represents the westernized youth. Ah, he's the city boy. Yes, he lives and works in the city. And when he receives the news of his father's death, His immediate reaction is heavily, almost coldly, pragmatic. What does he say? He essentially suggests, why should I come all the way back to the village? Why don't we just use an electric crematorium in the city to save time? Oh, wow. This specific conflict, the electric crematorium versus the traditional wooden pyre, it is such an incredibly powerful, tangible metaphor for everything we've been discussing. It is the perfect distillation of the debate. Because day and end, the city's son views his father's funeral as a logistical problem. Right. A problem that needs to be solved as efficiently as possible. Exactly. Time is money in the city. Right. The electric crematorium is fast. It's hygienic. It's cheap. And most importantly, it requires absolute minimal community involvement. You go in, you press a button, you go back to work. Precisely. The electric crematorium represents the ultimate efficiency of modern individualism. It privatizes grief. That's it, exactly. privatized grief. If I can use an analogy here for you listening. The Electric Crematorium is like how we use social media to process tragedy today. Oh that's interesting. How do you mean? Well it's fast, it's efficient. You can just click a button to send a little condolence emoji or quick thoughts and prayers post. But ultimately it is cold. It demands nothing of you physically. It is completely disconnected from the actual visceral reality of the loss. Whereas the traditional Village Funeral as it's painstakingly detailed in the novel, it is like a messy, exhausting, deeply human, physical embrace. That is a highly accurate parallel to what the reviewer, Dugan and Mandel, draws out of the text. Yes. Because the novel doesn't just mention the traditional funeral and passing. It intimately details how the entire village comes together for Raguindan's rights. It takes a village, literally. Literally. Yeah. The village is not just a geographical location on a map. It is portrayed as a living, breathing, social organism. And the review notes that the traditional pyre requires physical wood. It requires building a fire. It requires intense physical labor. And it demands time. I think the text says 13 to 17 days of continuous rituals. Yes, up to 17 days. And that demand for time and labor is exactly the point. It is. Yes. The traditional ritual forces the community to physically stop their individual lives. The burden of the funeral, the grief, the cost, the sheer labor of it is distributed among the entire community. That's shared. Exactly. The review explicitly notes that during this time, the village actively ignores its usual rigid cast lines. Yes. Everyone has a mandated necessary role. From the Brahmin priests chanting the mantras to, there's a specific character mentioned, Chitan, who is a member of the Dalit Domcast, and his role is absolutely essential in providing the fire for the pyre. Wow, it's an entire ecosystem of grief. It is. The novel seems to suggest that while the city offers this frictionless efficiency, the village offers true shared humanity. The traditional way is undeniably burdensome. I mean, it takes weeks, it's exhausting, it's expensive, but that very burden is exactly the glue that binds the community together. Yes, the shared burden is the glue. If you remove the burden with a fast electric crematorium, you remove the glue. Trisely. And this intense fear of losing that communal bond, of losing the social clue, it ties directly into another piece in the journal. Which piece is that? It is a highly-passioned, almost agonizing essay by Muni Kamat, titled, Kathajara Hal Cheeham, which translates to, where are we going? Ah, yes. Kamat's piece is raw. She isn't just debating the abstract philosophical values city versus village like we just were. She is writing about tangible, terrifying physical and moral destruction. She is very direct. Very. She points to rapid deforestation, the literal destruction of the environment driven by human greed and so-called development. But more horrifyingly, she writes extensively about an epidemic of violence against women. Yes. She points out a terrifying inversion of societal roles that she sees occurring as these traditional morals decay. What kind of inversion? Well in a functioning society there are archetypes of protection right? Yeah. Fathers, brothers and teachers are traditionally fundamentally viewed as the protectors of the vulnerable. Right. That's the social contract. Exactly. But Camot writes about the horrifying modern reality where these very protectors are actively becoming the abusers. Yeah. She writes this line that just stops you in your tracks. She says, a brother has become a butcher and a father has taken the form of sin. It is incredibly dark. It is. She asks the reader, how can we possibly build a clean modern society with such dirty feet? If we synthesize Kamat's essay with the novel Jevon Moran, we see a deeply unified theme running through the consciousness of this entire journal. Right. There is a profound existential anxiety that... But, you know, it is important to remember that literature isn't just a eulogy. No, not at all. It isn't just about mourning the past. It's also a tool for envisioning and demanding a fairer future, which brings us to a really fascinating historical essay in the journal by Dr. Arun Kumar Singh. Yes, social harmony in post-independence, Mathili stories. Exactly. Dr. Singh's essay is absolutely crucial here because it provides the vital historical context for literally everything we have discussed so far. Okay, lay out the history for us. He traces the long evolution of Mithili literature. Historically, going back centuries, Methili literature was heavily influenced by Sanskrit and Bengali traditions. Okay. And because of those influences, the literature primarily focused on elite aristocratic themes. The protagonists of the stories in poems were high-caste individuals, wealthy landowners, or, you know, mythical figures from the Grand Ethics. Right, kings and gods. Exactly. The daily grinding concerns of the common people, the laborers, the lowercasts. They were largely absent from the formal written text. But then, Dr. Singh notes, post-Independence India brings this massive seismic shift in the literature. Yes, a complete paradigm shift. He points to a new wave of writers who emerged. He names figures like the Lyle, Raj Kamal, Somdev, Ramanaan Renu, and notably Subhash Chandra Yadav. Yes. Subhash Chandra Yadav, the very author we saw, being defended in that angry editorial right at the beginning of our deep dive. Full circle. So, these writers completely shifted the lens. They stopped looking at the palaces and started looking at the fields. They started writing about the marginalized, the exploited, the working class, and the Dalit communities. And this shift introduces the core concept of Dr. Singh's entire essay, Samarasata. Samarasata. Yes, it translates roughly to social harmony. But it is vital to understand that in the context of this specific literary movement, Samarasata isn't just about a passive, quiet piece where everyone just blindly accepts their Latin life. Not just everyone get along. No, it is an active radical concept. It means actively giving a platform, a voice, and visibility to those who are historically denied one. Dr. Singh mentions specific stories as turning points for this, right? He does. He cites Lalit's story, Ramjani, which he calls an absolute masterpiece for its unflinching exposure of feudal abuses. And he mentions some dev stories that depict the painful reality of the lower classes with this deep, unprecedented intimacy, the literature transformed from just entertainment for the elite into a tool for actual social visibility. Exactly. It was about moving away from class conflict by forcing the literary establishment to actually acknowledge the humanity and the reality of the marginalized. Yes. The art became a mechanism for demanding structural change in society. And this evolution perfectly connects back to the bitter literary politics we discussed right at the start of our deep dive. Right, I was just thinking that, because there is a glaring contradiction here and I really wanna push back on it. Go for it. If Dr. Singh is right, if the literature itself has spent the last 50 years becoming progressively more inclusive, focusing on the marginalized and fighting for this radical Samarasata, why are the institutions behind the literature still allegedly stuck in vicious, caste-based gatekeeping? It's the million dollar question. Right, if the art is so progressive, Why is the editorial by Gajendra Thakur screaming about paper organizations and block monographs and black marketing? It's a brilliant observation, and it highlights the fundamental friction between the art of a culture and the industry that governs that art. They're two different things. Very different. The writers, people like Lalit or Suhashtra under Yadav, they are pushing the boundaries on the page. They're exploring the lives of the marginalized and advocating for a new social harmony. Right. But the institutions, the academies, that distribute the funding, that publish the official monographs, that hand out the awards and define the canon, they're still, at least according to the editorial, controlled by the old guard. They're controlled by individuals who historically held the power back when the literature was only about the elite. So the fight over an award isn't just about ego or wanting a trophy, it's a fight over the definition of progress. Exactly. The fight is over who actually gets to define what social harmony looks like. Is Samarasada defined by the traditional elites maintaining a polite, undisturbed order? Or is it defined by the new, sometimes angry voices demanding structural change and equality? The friction occurs and it boils over into those wild emails about WikiLeaks and the gutter because the literature is evolving significantly faster than the institutions governing it. The art is in the 21st century, but the bureaucracy is struggling to leave the 19th. That is perfectly stated. That is such a fascinating tension. The operating system of the culture is being completely rewritten by the authors, but the old institutional hardware is struggling to run it. I love that analogy. Well, speaking of operating systems, that actually brings us to the final and honestly, perhaps most technically fascinating part of the journal for me, the language laboratory. Yes, the technical language debate. Because amidst all the politics, the social transitions, the debates over modernity, There is this intense laser-like focus on the actual granular mechanics of the Methili language itself. Right. The journal dedicates a very significant amount of space to a fierce debate over education, specifically advocating for higher education to be conducted in the mother tongue. The author references guidelines from the University Grants Commission regarding PhDs. They cite rulings from the Mumbai High Court, allowing native languages to be used in public service interviews, and they even point to demands made by public figures like Baba Ramdev regarding language rights. The core argument they make here is fascinating because it's about cognitive processes, not just cultural pride. Yes, it's about how the brain actually works. Right. The text argues that the mother tongue is a person's first language of thought. It is the language your brain uses to process reality. So if you are forced to learn advanced complex concepts like quantum physics or advanced macroeconomics in a secondary language like English, your brain is constantly running a translation program in the background. Exactly. You lose cognitive efficiency, you lose the deep intuitive connection to the material because you are expending mental energy just decoding the vocabulary words rather than grasping the core concept. Exactly. And the source provides a really fantastic thought experiment regarding technology and language to illustrate this. Oh, the telephone example. Yes. It states that if the telephone had been invented in India, the very first word spoken across it wouldn't have been hello. Right. Because technology is imported, the vocabulary to describe that technology is imported with it. And the journal argues that this creates a severe, almost insurmountable barrier to native language adoption in the sciences. It's a huge problem. If a language doesn't actively develop its own technical and scientific vocabulary, if it just defaults to using English words for every single new invention, it becomes relegated entirely to the domestic sphere. That is the ultimate danger of linguistic stagnation. If Mathili doesn't have words for microchips or algorithms or frankly electric crematoriums, it ceases to be a language of progress. It just gets left behind. It becomes a language used only for poetry, for folklore, for kitchen conversations with with your grandparents. Meanwhile, English or Hindi becomes the exclusive language of the future, of science, of ambition. Right. The journal is arguing that for a language to truly survive, it must be able to describe the future, not just the past. Which means the language risks becoming a museum exhibit rather than a living tool. But if we are going to talk about the language being used for poetry, we absolutely have to talk about Ashish Enshanhar's guide to writing Ghazals in Mithili. Oh, we do. without a doubt the most mind-bending unexpected part of the journal for me. I always thought of poetry as this like free-flowing emotional expression of the soul. Yeah, most people do. But the guide presented here, this is mathematics, this is pure engineering. It is highly, highly technical. A gazelle, just for some quick context, is a poetic form consisting of rhyming couplets and a refrain. It originated in Arabic poetry but was deeply adapted into Persian or Urdu and eventually various South Asian languages including Nathalie. And Ankenhar's guide in the journal breaks down the absolute unyielding rigidity required to write a true structurally sound gazale and mathily. Let's unpack these rules for the listener because they are intense. First, you have the concept of the Radif. The Radif, yes. This is the word, or sometimes a short phrase, that must be repeated at the exact end of every single line in the couplet throughout the entire poem. Correct. The Radif is the anchor of the poem. But the real terrifying complexity for a poet lies in the kafia. The kuffia is the rhyming word that comes immediately preceding the relief. And the guide makes it clear that it's not just about finding words that sort of sound alike like a loose rhyme in a pop song. No, there is no close enough. The rules for the kuffia are incredibly strict. It is about matching vowel sounds perfectly. Let me give the exact example from the text. The four of it. If your kuffia ends in the consonant G and the vowel preceding that G is an A like in the word rag, then every single kuffia in the entire The finger grazeau must match that exact A plus G phonetic structure. Yes, you can use words like tag or bag or jog. Okay, that sounds easy enough. But, and this is the kicker, you absolutely cannot use a word where the internal vowel changes, even slightly, even if it ends in G. Oh wow. The guide goes into deep phonetic elision. It explains the rules for what happens when you drop an E or Y sound in the Thilley pronunciation and how that specific drop directly impacts the legality of the kuffia. It's like grammar police on steroids. It even dictates the strict guidelines on using an amusfar, which is the nasal dot used in the written script, versus using a panchamakshar, which is the specific fifth nasal consonant of a phonetic class. That is so specific. The poet must maintain absolute flawless consistency in these microscopic phonetic details. The level of Discipline required is staggering. If I can use another analogy here, it is exactly like a complex mathematical algorithm or writing a piece of software code. Yes, that is. In code, if you miss one variable, if you forget one semi-colon, or if you accidentally swap an A for an E in line 14, the entire program crashes. It just won't run. It breaks. According to Anshunhar's guide, the gazal is exactly the same. If you mess up the internal vowel of the kafia in the sixth stanza. The poem doesn't just sound a bit clunky, it is structurally invalid. The program crashes. What is truly beautiful about this rigidity, though, especially when you view it in the context of the entire journal, is what it demands of the writer. What do you mean? Think about everything we have discussed today. The Mayfield Society is changing at breakneck speed. Families are fracturing in the cities, villages are modernizing, electric crematoriums are replacing pires, political battles are raging over awards and cannons, everything is in a state of absolute flux. But the linguistic rules of the gazale, they remain absolute. Wow, yeah. They're completely unyielding. To write a successful gazale, the poet cannot just rely on passion or raw emotion. They must possess total mathematical mastery of their mother tongue. It forces preservation through discipline. Exactly. It shows that a language isn't just a casual means of communication, it is a profound architectural structure of thought. The gazal forces the poet to preserve the phonetic purity of the language, acting as a bulwark against linguistic decay. It's incredible. You have this language that is literally fighting for its life in the modern world, fighting for space and university classrooms, fighting against the tide of imported English technical vocabulary, but within the walls of a gazal. Yes. Within the gazal, it is pristine. It is perfect, controlled and completely unyielding. It is a sanctuary of structure amidst the chaos of transition. Okay, we have covered an immense amount of ground today. Let's take a breath and just recap the sweeping journey we've been on through the pages of Vidaeus at Eiat 12. It has been a long journey. We started in the bitter combative trenches of literary politics, right? Looking at explosive allegations of caste-based gatekeeping, blocked monographs, and the fierce fight over who gets to define the cultural canon through institutions like the Sahita to academia. And from there, we saw the vital international celebration of the language across the border at the Nepalese presidential palace. Right, the seven books. And we explored the crucial work of pioneers like Manipadma, who preserved oral folk deities by bravely writing them into the formal literary record. Then we dove deep into the psychological transitions of modernizing families in Sujee Kumar Shah's short stories. We watched traditional roles fracture and reform in the city, from pinkies subverting the wronged woman trope to the isolated sick father abandoned for a modern holiday. Such a powerful contrast. And we contrasted that urban isolation with the deep anxieties over moral decay and the loss of communal bonds in the village, which was perfectly symbolized by the intense debate over the efficiency of the electric crematorium versus the heavy shared human burden of the traditional funeral pyre. We also examined the evolution of the literature itself with Dr. Singh, moving from elite aristocratic concerns to actively giving a voice to the marginalized in the radical pursuit of samar-sata or social harmony. And finally, we explored the language laboratories seeing how Mathili struggles to adopt scientific vocabulary while simultaneously preserving its brilliant structural beauty in the incredibly rigid mathematical coding of the gazal. It truly is a comprehensive stunning portrait of a culture in active, passionate transition. It really is. And it leaves me with one final thought to ponder, bringing us right back to where we started. What's that? Today we saw how a language fights to survive through messy vitriolic politics, through heart-wrenching stories of social change, and through strict, unbreakable poetic rules. But if a culture's language is the operating system of its people, the invisible code that dictates how they perceive reality, what happens when the youth no longer know the code? That is the question. Will the mythility of the future be perfectly preserved frozen in the rigid mathematics of beautiful gazelles? Or will it have to fundamentally break its own rules to survive the cold, fast efficiency of the electric crematoriums of the modern world? That is the existential question every ancient language must answer as it faces the future. Something for all of us to mull over. Thank you for joining us and remember to keep diving deep.

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