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SADEHA 35.m4a

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Part 1 · VIDEHA MITHILA MAITHILI DISCUSSION CRITICISM SERIES PART 1

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1. 0:00–0:03Imagine you are the president of your country.
2. 0:03–0:09Like, you've spent your entire life climbing this incredibly treacherous ladder of national politics.
3. 0:09–0:11Right. Decades of work.
4. 0:11–0:14Decades! And you finally reached the summit.
5. 0:14–0:20And now, you're invited to step up to the podium at a major, highly publicized international conference.
6. 0:20–0:21Okay. Setting the scene.
7. 0:21–0:27Yeah. And the entire purpose of this specific conference is to celebrate your native language,
8. 0:27–0:29like the language of your ancestors.
9. 0:29–0:31The language you literally spoke as a child.
10. 0:31–0:36Exactly, the mother tongue of the specific ethnic group you were born into.
11. 0:36–0:40So you look out into the crowd, you see your people looking back at you,
12. 0:40–0:45waiting to hear their language validated on the world stage by the highest office in the land.
13. 0:45–0:47Which is a huge deal for any community.
14. 0:47–0:48Oh, absolutely massive.
15. 0:48–0:52But then you lean into the microphone and you refuse to speak it.
16. 0:52–0:53Wow.
17. 0:53–0:58Yeah, you completely ignore it and you choose to speak the official standardized language of the
18. 0:58–1:03state instead. See it's that kind of moment that doesn't just, you know, start a political
19. 1:03–1:08debate. It starts a full-on cultural firestorm because it touches a nerve so deep that people
20. 1:08–1:14don't just feel disappointed. No. They feel actively erased. Right, exactly. And today we are
21. 1:14–1:19taking a deep dive into a culture that is quite literally fighting for its life. I mean they're
22. 1:19–1:25fighting against devastating annual floods, they're fighting the relentless pull of mega cities,
23. 1:25–1:28and as we just hinted at they are fighting their own politician.
24. 1:28–1:30There's a fight on every front.
25. 1:30–1:34So welcome to the deep dive. Today we're immersing ourselves in this
26. 1:34–1:39massive incredibly multi-layered document that just captures the struggle perfectly.
27. 1:39–1:39Yeah, it really does.
28. 1:39–1:44It's called Videja Sadeja 35 and it's a volume four anthology from a
29. 1:44–1:48Mathilii journal which is edited by Gojendra Thakur.
30. 1:48–1:52Now if you are listening to this and wondering what exactly is Mathilii,
31. 1:52–1:54let's just quickly set the stage.
32. 1:54–1:55Good idea.
33. 1:55–1:59Mathilli is an Indo-Aryan language and it is spoken by tens of millions of people,
34. 1:59–2:04primarily in the Bihar region of India and also the Eastern Terai region of Nepal.
35. 2:04–2:09And historically, I mean it is a language with this incredibly rich deep literary tradition.
36. 2:09–2:09Oh, absolutely.
37. 2:09–2:16But what makes this specific anthology, the day I said, day 35, so vital is that it isn't just,
38. 2:16–2:18you know, looking backward at some golden age.
39. 2:18–2:19Right.
40. 2:19–2:21It's staring unflinchingly at the present day.
41. 2:21–2:24It really is. And, you know, even before you read a single word,
42. 2:24–2:27the document just sets a tone. Like visually it is straight.
43. 2:27–2:29Oh, the artwork is amazing.
44. 2:29–2:33You open it up and you're immediately greeted with this traditional Mayfield art.
45. 2:33–2:39There's this deeply intricate white circular mandala and it's set against this textured
46. 2:39–2:40blood red background.
47. 2:40–2:43Which just feels so ancient and grounded.
48. 2:43–2:45Right, but then you turn the page and there's another drawing.
49. 2:45–2:51It's intensely colored in red and blue and it depicts the traditional drum of bow and this,
50. 2:51–2:54Well, this really fascinating, almost chaotic winged creature.
51. 2:54–2:56Yeah, that winged creature is so striking.
52. 2:56–2:59And honestly, it perfectly represents the text itself.
53. 2:59–2:59How so?
54. 2:59–3:02Well, because the anthology isn't just one thing.
55. 3:02–3:06It's this wild, completely unfiltered mix of short stories
56. 3:06–3:10and biting literary critiques and then deeply personal memoirs
57. 3:10–3:12and hard-hitting journalistic reports.
58. 3:12–3:13Which is exactly what you need, right?
59. 3:13–3:18I mean, if you're trying to understand a society that is in the midst of a massive transition.
60. 3:18–3:23Exactly. A culture is never a monolith. It's literature shouldn't be either.
61. 3:23–3:27You need the poetry just as much as you need the journalism if you want to see the full picture.
62. 3:27–3:32So our mission for you on this deep dive is to map out this shifting landscape.
63. 3:33–3:38By unpacking these wildly diverse writings, we're going to explore how the Mayfield community
64. 3:38–3:45navigates the tension between honoring their ancient roots and, well, basically just surviving
65. 3:45–3:46the modern world.
66. 3:46–3:47It's a huge balancing act.
67. 3:47–3:53It is. We're going to look at the raw truth of their working class, the terrifying reality
68. 3:53–3:57of their geography, the exodus of their youth, and the really intense political battles over
69. 3:57–4:02their identity. And I've brought you here to help us sort of connect the dots between
70. 4:02–4:07these incredibly personal stories and the massive sociological shifts happening in the background.
71. 4:08–4:12I am ready. I mean, the material we have today is remarkable because it shows us a culture
72. 4:12–4:17that's actively wrestling with its own reflection. It's not a static museum exhibit.
73. 4:17–4:24Yeah. It's a living, breathing, cultural organism that is figuring out how to survive in the 21st century.
74. 4:24–4:29Okay, so let's start with that reflection. Because think about how we tell our own stories today.
75. 4:29–4:33If you go on social media, you usually see a highly curated version of someone's life, right?
76. 4:33–4:37Well, of course. The highlight reel. Exactly. The promotion, the amazing vacation,
77. 4:37–4:43the perfect relationship. You rarely see, like, the bank account overdrafts or the arguments.
78. 4:43–4:44Alright.
79. 4:44–4:48Well, historically, literature has functioned in a very similar way.
80. 4:48–4:52And this anthology kicks off with a massive shift in how the faithful people are choosing
81. 4:52–4:53to write about themselves.
82. 4:53–4:54Moving away from the filter.
83. 4:54–4:55Yes.
84. 4:55–5:02We're moving from a polished, sanitized past to a very gritty, unvarnished present.
85. 5:02–5:07I want to look at a literary critique in the anthology written by a man named Ashish
86. 5:07–5:08Unkhar.
87. 5:08–5:10Oh yeah, Anxinhar's critique is fantastic.
88. 5:10–5:16He's reviewing a book by Sandeep Kumar Safi, which is titled, Bay Shock May Dalin Par.
89. 5:16–5:22And this critique by Anjanhar is basically foundational to understanding modern Maitreya
90. 5:22–5:23literature.
91. 5:23–5:26He is essentially blowing the whistle on the literary establishment.
92. 5:26–5:28He holds absolutely nothing back.
93. 5:28–5:33Anjanhar completely dismantles the tradition of Maitreya autobiographies.
94. 5:33–5:38He argues that historically, these autobiographies have been entirely sanitized.
95. 5:38–5:44He uses this really stark terminology referring to the white side and the black side of society.
96. 5:44–5:46Yeah, it's a very vivid dichotomy.
97. 5:46–5:50He says that the older generation of writers only ever showed the white side.
98. 5:50–5:54They highlighted the glory, the intellectual achievements, the positive aspects of their
99. 5:54–5:58lives, but they deliberately, systematically hid the black side.
100. 5:58–6:03They hid the poverty, the failures, the immense social inequalities, the manual labor.
101. 6:03–6:08They created this grand illusion of a flawless, elevated society.
102. 6:08–6:09Which is of course impossible.
103. 6:09–6:10Right.
104. 6:10–6:11But why?
105. 6:11–6:13Why go to such lengths to pretend everything is perfect?
106. 6:13–6:17Well to understand that you really have to look at the mechanics of caste and social
107. 6:17–6:18hierarchy in the region.
108. 6:18–6:19Okay.
109. 6:19–6:20Layed out for us.
110. 6:20–6:26Historically, literature in this part of the world was dominated by the elite castes.
111. 6:26–6:31In the context of Methilil literature, this primarily meant the Brahmin and Chayesta
112. 6:31–6:32communities.
113. 6:32–6:33Got it.
114. 6:33–6:36represent the priestly and scholarly class,
115. 6:36–6:40while the caestas represent the scribes and administrators.
116. 6:40–6:42So they were the ones with the power of the pen.
117. 6:42–6:43Exactly.
118. 6:43–6:46When you have an absolute monopoly on the written word,
119. 6:46–6:49your literature serves a very specific political
120. 6:49–6:51and social function.
121. 6:51–6:54It reinforces your position at the top of the hierarchy.
122. 6:54–6:54Oh, I see.
123. 6:54–6:57You present an idealized version of your life,
124. 6:57–6:59because your life is supposed to be the societal ideal.
125. 6:59–7:01So admitting to failure or struggle
126. 7:01–7:07would basically crack the facade. Exactly. If the scholarly class admits that they're, you know,
127. 7:07–7:11struggling to feed their families or that their societal structures are deeply unjust,
128. 7:12–7:17it undermines the very justification for their elite status. The sanitization wasn't just a
129. 7:17–7:23stylistic choice. It was a mechanism of power. That makes total sense. And that actually brings
130. 7:23–7:28us to why Anshunhar is so thrilled with Sandeep Kumar's Sofie's book. Anshunhar praises Sofie
131. 7:28–7:33precisely because his writing shatters that traditional Brahmin and Kayaesta dominance.
132. 7:34–7:39Safi embraces the raw unfiltered reality of the working class and the Dalit communities.
133. 7:39–7:43Right, the communities that have historically been pushed to the very bottom of the caste system.
134. 7:43–7:47And entirely excluded from the literary narrative.
135. 7:47–7:51Safi's doing something deeply subversive here. He's taking the prestigious form of literature
136. 7:51–7:56and using it to document lives that were previously deemed unworthy of the written word.
137. 7:56–7:59And the details in the text are just so grounded. Like,
138. 7:59–8:03Soffie doesn't write about grand philosophical debates in village courtyards.
139. 8:03–8:04No, not at all.
140. 8:04–8:07He writes about the physical exhaustion of washing clothes.
141. 8:07–8:12He writes about migrating to a massive tech hub like Bangalore,
142. 8:12–8:13but not to work as a software engineer.
143. 8:13–8:15Right, to work as a cook.
144. 8:15–8:20Exactly. He documents the shift away from traditional prestigious salary jobs
145. 8:20–8:24toward gritty blue collar survival, like opening a bicycle repair shop.
146. 8:24–8:25It's a huge pivot.
147. 8:25–8:30But I want to ask you about the impact of this, because for a listener who might not be familiar
148. 8:30–8:36with the intense stratification of Indian society, why is writing a story about a bicycle repair shop
149. 8:36–8:38seen as such a revolutionary act?
150. 8:38–8:44Because in a deeply stratified society, manual labor is inherently stigmatized.
151. 8:44–8:48It's tied entirely to your caste and your perceived purity.
152. 8:48–8:49Oh wow, okay.
153. 8:49–8:55To be educated, to be part of the literary elite, historically meant that you did not work with
154. 8:55–8:56with your hands.
155. 8:56–8:58Your hands were for holding a pen, not a wrench.
156. 8:58–9:00That is a stark divide.
157. 9:00–9:03So when a writer proudly claims that space,
158. 9:03–9:06when Safi says, yes, I wash clothes,
159. 9:06–9:08I cook food in Bangalore, I fix bicycles,
160. 9:08–9:11and my life is complex and worthy of exploration,
161. 9:11–9:14he is completely democratizing the mythily language.
162. 9:14–9:16He's taking it back from the elite.
163. 9:16–9:17Exactly.
164. 9:17–9:19He's unmooring it from the elite casts.
165. 9:19–9:22It forces the reader to recognize the humanity
166. 9:22–9:24and the intellectual depth of the working class.
167. 9:24–9:27It's a society finally willing to look at its own true reflection
168. 9:27–9:28without the Instagram filter.
169. 9:28–9:31And they aren't just unmasking class and labor either.
170. 9:31–9:33They're unmasking gender dynamics as well.
171. 9:33–9:36There's this quick, brilliant little anecdote buried
172. 9:36–9:38in this critique that I absolutely loved.
173. 9:38–9:41It's referred to as the petnipokt anecdote.
174. 9:41–9:43Patnipokt, meaning the wife worshiper.
175. 9:43–9:45It's a phenomenal cultural snapshot.
176. 9:45–9:46It really is.
177. 9:46–9:48So picture this.
178. 9:48–9:50There's a large communal feast.
179. 9:50–9:52Everyone is sitting down, getting ready to eat,
180. 9:52–9:54but one man is missing.
181. 9:54–9:55Feku Babu is late.
182. 9:55–9:56Right.
183. 9:56–9:59So someone in the crowd casually mentions
184. 9:59–10:00that Feku Babu isn't there yet
185. 10:00–10:02because he's a pet nevakt, a wife worshiper.
186. 10:02–10:03And why is he late?
187. 10:03–10:06The reason he's late is that he is at home
188. 10:06–10:08massaging his wife's feet.
189. 10:08–10:10Which to this group is hilarious.
190. 10:10–10:14The whole group erupts into mocking laughter.
191. 10:14–10:17It's clearly meant to be this emasculating insult.
192. 10:17–10:19The idea that a man would lower himself
193. 10:19–10:21to serve his wife in that way is laughable to them.
194. 10:21–10:24Right, it goes against the entire patriarchal structure.
195. 10:24–10:26But then his friend Soothe here steps in,
196. 10:26–10:28Soothe here looks at the group,
197. 10:28–10:31defends his friend, and drops this incredible line.
198. 10:31–10:35He asks them, is it a bad thing to be a wife worshiper?
199. 10:35–10:37Is it better to be a prostitute worshiper?
200. 10:37–10:39It's the ultimate conversation stopper.
201. 10:39–10:40Oh, completely.
202. 10:40–10:43The text actually notes that the moment Soothe here says this,
203. 10:43–10:45the room goes dead silent,
204. 10:45–10:47and all you can hear is the sound of people
205. 10:47–10:49suddenly eagerly eating their food.
206. 10:49–10:50Just aggressively chewing.
207. 10:50–10:53Yes, they just put their heads down and shut up.
208. 10:53–10:56It's hilarious, but it's also incredibly sharp.
209. 10:56–10:58It is sharp because it uses humor to expose
210. 10:58–11:01the hypocrisy of patriarchal norms.
211. 11:01–11:04I mean, the men of the feasts find it laughable
212. 11:04–11:06that a man would show tender, subservient affection
213. 11:06–11:08to his own wife.
214. 11:08–11:10Yet the unspoken reality that Soothier points out
215. 11:10–11:13is that society often turns a blind eye
216. 11:13–11:17to men who exploit women or engage in infidelity.
217. 11:17–11:19Soothier is highlighting a twisted moral compass
218. 11:19–11:22where public affection for a spouse is mocked.
219. 11:22–11:24But private vice is tolerated.
220. 11:24–11:25It's just a small anecdote,
221. 11:25–11:27but it feels massive in its implications.
222. 11:27–11:28It is massive.
223. 11:28–11:30And it raises a really fascinating point
224. 11:30–11:31about how literature functions
225. 11:31–11:33as a trailing indicator of social change.
226. 11:33–11:35What do you mean by trailing indicator?
227. 11:35–11:37Think about the timeline.
228. 11:37–11:39By the time an anecdote about a man defending
229. 11:39–11:40massaging his wife's feet,
230. 11:40–11:43or a story about working as a cook in Bangalore,
231. 11:43–11:45is actually written down, published in a book,
232. 11:45–11:48and then celebrated in a formal literary critique.
233. 11:48–11:50The society has already changed.
234. 11:50–11:51Exactly.
235. 11:51–11:52The society has already shifted.
236. 11:52–11:55Literature is often the last place to catch up.
237. 11:55–11:58The unmasking, the challenging of the patriarchy,
238. 11:58–12:01the democratization of labor, these things
239. 12:01–12:03have already been happening in the private sphere.
240. 12:03–12:05And the living rooms and the bicycle shops.
241. 12:05–12:08Sophie is just finally giving it a public voice.
242. 12:08–12:11So the social landscape is shifting beneath their feet.
243. 12:11–12:13The old hierarchies are being challenged.
244. 12:13–12:16But as we move to the next part of the anthology,
245. 12:16–12:19we see that while society changes,
246. 12:19–12:21the physical landscape they inhabit
247. 12:21–12:23remains terrifyingly constant.
248. 12:23–12:25Yeah, nature doesn't care about social progress.
249. 12:25–12:26Exactly.
250. 12:26–12:29Specifically, we have to talk about their vulnerability
251. 12:29–12:30to the natural world,
252. 12:30–12:32because if you live in this region,
253. 12:32–12:35you live at the mercy of the Coasey River.
254. 12:35–12:37You truly cannot understand the
255. 12:37–12:39Mayfield cultural identity or their literature
256. 12:39–12:42without understanding their relationship with water.
257. 12:42–12:43Right.
258. 12:43–12:45The transition from social critiques
259. 12:45–12:50to environmental trauma in this anthology is jarring.
260. 12:50–12:53But it's absolutely fundamental to their reality.
261. 12:53–12:55For our listeners who might not be geographers,
262. 12:55–12:58let's explain the Kosi River.
263. 12:58–13:00Because this isn't just a gentle stream
264. 13:00–13:02that occasionally gets a little high in the spring.
265. 13:02–13:04No, no.
266. 13:04–13:06The Kosi River is historically known
267. 13:06–13:08as the Sorrow of Bihar.
268. 13:08–13:10It originates up in the Himalayas
269. 13:10–13:12and flows down through Nepal
270. 13:12–13:14into the flat plains of Bihar, India.
271. 13:14–13:16and what makes it so dangerous.
272. 13:16–13:18It's the silt.
273. 13:18–13:21The river carries massive unimaginable amounts of sand
274. 13:21–13:23and silt down from the mountains.
275. 13:23–13:25Over time, this silt builds up
276. 13:25–13:28and essentially clogs the river's own channel.
277. 13:28–13:30So the water has to go somewhere else.
278. 13:30–13:30Exactly.
279. 13:30–13:33So the river naturally and violently shifts its course.
280. 13:33–13:35It doesn't just overflow its banks.
281. 13:35–13:38It carves entirely new paths across the landscape,
282. 13:38–13:40wiping out everything in its way.
283. 13:40–13:41Which means you could build a village
284. 13:41–13:43miles away from the river,
285. 13:43–13:46And 10 years later, the river could literally run right through your living room.
286. 13:46–13:52The anthology tackles this head-on. It features a poetic response to one of the most devastating
287. 13:52–13:59recent events. There's a piece by Varendra Kumaryadov where he's praising a poem written by Rajdev Mendal.
288. 13:59–14:02And this poem is about the 2008 Kusaha flood.
289. 14:02–14:06Right, which is deeply etched into the memory of this region as the cozy tragedy.
290. 14:07–14:11In 2008, the river breached its embankments at Kusaha in Nepal.
291. 14:11–14:17It essentially abandoned its established channel and swept across areas that hadn't seen a flood in decades.
292. 14:18–14:20Millions of people were displaced overnight.
293. 14:20–14:24Just staggering numbers. And Yadav notes how Mandel's poem captures the sheer,
294. 14:25–14:28unadulterated agony of the people trapped by those rising waters.
295. 14:28–14:29Is this role?
296. 14:29–14:34Yadav writes that it was a disaster that made the hair stand on end for people watching it on the news all over the world.
297. 14:34–14:37But you know for the Mayfield people it wasn't a news story.
298. 14:37–14:38It was their lives being washed away.
299. 14:38–14:42Exactly. They're a community defined by a horrific duality.
300. 14:42–14:45The river is the absolute source of their agricultural livelihood.
301. 14:45–14:48The water brings the silt and makes the soil fertile.
302. 14:48–14:50It is water as life.
303. 14:50–14:55But simultaneously, it's a monster that can destroy generations of work in a single night.
304. 14:55–14:57It is water as death.
305. 14:57–15:02And that psychological duality is incredibly difficult to live with.
306. 15:02–15:05I mean, how do you love the land that constantly tries to kill you?
307. 15:05–15:11That exact question is explored in, I think, is the most haunting piece in the entire anthology.
308. 15:11–15:16It's a short story called Na Arjindagi, which translates directly to boat and life.
309. 15:16–15:17A very fitting title.
310. 15:17–15:21This story doesn't deal with the macro politics of river management, though.
311. 15:21–15:27It zooms in on one highly specific, devastating date, August 11th, 2010.
312. 15:27–15:30A date that clearly serves as a marker of communal trauma.
313. 15:30–15:33Yeah. This story sets the scene in Quattol village,
314. 15:33–15:38right on the banks of the Toljiga River, and the atmosphere at the beginning of the story is actually joyous.
315. 15:38–15:43Which is such a contrast to what's coming. Exactly. There's this festive energy.
316. 15:43–15:46People in the village are rushing to get on to the small boat because they're heading across the
317. 15:46–15:51river to attend a feast. You can picture the chaos, right? The bright clothes, the chatter, the
318. 15:51–15:56excitement. But in their excitement, they completely ignore the danger. They just keep piling onto
319. 15:56–16:02this small boat, far beyond its capacity. It's a localized tragedy, but it really speaks to
320. 16:02–16:05to a broader numbness to danger.
321. 16:05–16:05What do you mean?
322. 16:05–16:07Well, when you live surrounded by water,
323. 16:07–16:10a small overloaded boat probably feels
324. 16:10–16:12like an acceptable daily risk.
325. 16:12–16:14Right up until the moment it isn't.
326. 16:14–16:15That is such a good point.
327. 16:15–16:17So they launch into the river,
328. 16:17–16:20and halfway across the inevitable happens,
329. 16:20–16:22the water starts breaching the sides of the boat.
330. 16:22–16:23And panic sets in.
331. 16:23–16:24Instant panic.
332. 16:24–16:26The festive mood just shatters.
333. 16:26–16:28People start screaming, trying to shift their weight,
334. 16:28–16:30which obviously only makes it worse.
335. 16:30–16:31Yeah, tipping the boat further.
336. 16:31–16:37Exactly, the boat capsizes, and the story describes the river as a monster opening its
337. 16:37–16:39mouth to swallow the people whole.
338. 16:39–16:44It is a horrific mass drowning, turning a day of celebration into a nightmare in a matter
339. 16:44–16:46of seconds.
340. 16:46–16:50The speed of that transition from celebration to absolute devastation is the hallmark of
341. 16:50–16:53life in a flood prone geography.
342. 16:53–16:57But it's the aftermath of the sinking that I really can't stop thinking about.
343. 16:57–17:00The story shifts focus to a woman named Rathia.
344. 17:00–17:03She survived, but she has lost her family.
345. 17:03–17:04Oh, it's heartbreaking.
346. 17:04–17:09She is on the riverbank wailing, literally physically beating her chest.
347. 17:09–17:14She is mourning the loss of her loved ones, but also the total destruction of her future.
348. 17:14–17:18She cries out over and over that her diamond has been lost.
349. 17:18–17:20It's the primal sound of grief.
350. 17:20–17:21It is.
351. 17:21–17:25But then, her young daughter, Munion, walks up to her.
352. 17:25–17:27And you would expect the child to be crying, too.
353. 17:27–17:30But Munion is chillingly calm.
354. 17:30–17:33He looks at her grieving mother and tells her to have patience.
355. 17:33–17:36She says that no one knows when or how they will die.
356. 17:36–17:38And then she delivers this line that just floored me.
357. 17:38–17:40We brought our own fate into this world.
358. 17:40–17:42We brought our own fate into this world.
359. 17:42–17:47It is a profound, almost staggering moment of fatalism from a child.
360. 17:47–17:48It really is.
361. 17:48–17:51She's saying that birth and death are inextricably linked.
362. 17:51–17:55And whatever happens, even drowning on the way to a feast, was simply written in
363. 17:55–17:57the stars before they were even born.
364. 17:57–18:02I have to push back on this though or at least try to understand the mechanics of this mindset
365. 18:02–18:08because you know to a Western ear or to anyone outside of this reality that fatalism sounds
366. 18:08–18:09like giving up.
367. 18:09–18:11Okay, how so?
368. 18:11–18:13Let me use an analogy.
369. 18:13–18:16Imagine you build your dream house on the side of an active volcano.
370. 18:16–18:17Dangerous choice but okay.
371. 18:17–18:18Right.
372. 18:18–18:21You know scientifically that it is going to erupt eventually.
373. 18:21–18:24Ten years later it erupts and burns your house to the ground.
374. 18:24–18:28If you stand in the ashes and just shrug and say, well, it was fate, isn't that a sign
375. 18:28–18:31of complete cultural defeat?
376. 18:31–18:32I see you're just saying.
377. 18:32–18:34Like, why not just move away from the volcano?
378. 18:34–18:39Is Minion's fatalism a surrender, or is it actually a survival mechanism?
379. 18:39–18:43It is absolutely a survival mechanism and a highly evolved one.
380. 18:43–18:44Really?
381. 18:44–18:46Let's look at the psychology of your volcano analogy.
382. 18:46–18:50If you believe that you have total control over your environment, if you believe that
383. 18:50–18:53that human agency is supreme,
384. 18:53–18:55then a disaster like the Coasey flood
385. 18:55–18:59or a mass drowning will entirely shatter your worldview.
386. 18:59–19:00Because it proves you were in control.
387. 19:00–19:01Exactly.
388. 19:01–19:04You will be paralyzed by the profound injustice of it.
389. 19:04–19:05You will drive yourself mad asking,
390. 19:05–19:07why me? Why my family?
391. 19:07–19:08Yeah.
392. 19:08–19:11But if you adopt a worldview of fatalism,
393. 19:11–19:15if you accept that the river's wrath is preordained,
394. 19:15–19:16that the cosmos has a plan
395. 19:16–19:19that you cannot possibly comprehend or alter,
396. 19:19–19:22then the trauma is categorized differently in your brain.
397. 19:22–19:25So it removes the burden of the why?
398. 19:25–19:25Precisely.
399. 19:25–19:28It neutralizes the existential dread.
400. 19:28–19:29It isn't that they don't feel the pain,
401. 19:29–19:32Ruthia is clearly in agony.
402. 19:32–19:34But fatalism provides a framework
403. 19:34–19:36to process the unprocessable.
404. 19:36–19:36Wow.
405. 19:36–19:38It isn't a religious platitude.
406. 19:38–19:41It is a psychological shield forged by centuries
407. 19:41–19:44of living at the mercy of an under forgiving geography.
408. 19:44–19:46It is the only way you can wake up the next morning.
409. 19:46–19:47That makes a lot of sense.
410. 19:47–19:48It's the belief system that allows Ruthia
411. 19:48–19:50who eventually stop whaling.
412. 19:50–19:52And it's the exact mechanism that allows communities
413. 19:52–19:55to build a new boat and plant new seeds in the very mud
414. 19:55–19:56that just drown their neighbors.
415. 19:56–19:58They stay because it's their home.
416. 19:58–20:00Yes, it is their land, their identity.
417. 20:00–20:04And fatalism is the armor they wear to survive staying.
418. 20:04–20:05That is fascinating.
419. 20:05–20:07So the water displaces them physically
420. 20:07–20:09and their philosophy is what allows them
421. 20:09–20:11to survive that displacement mentally.
422. 20:11–20:11Well put.
423. 20:11–20:13But the anthology immediately pivots
424. 20:13–20:16because right now there is a different kind
425. 20:16–20:17of displacement happening and it has nothing
426. 20:17–20:22do with water. Right. A modern displacement. It is the economic and educational displacement of the
427. 20:22–20:27youth. The youth exodus. It is the defining demographic earthquake of modern India and the
428. 20:27–20:32Paul. Because there just aren't enough opportunities in the villages. Exactly. The agrarian village
429. 20:32–20:36economy simply cannot support the ambitions or the population of the rising generation.
430. 20:37–20:42And the Macell youth are caught right in the center of this massive migration
431. 20:42–20:47to the megacities. And the anthology captures this beautifully with two short stories
432. 20:47–20:52by the writer Vanit Uthpaul. These stories perfectly encapsulate the modern urban struggle.
433. 20:52–20:57Uthpaul is a very sharp observer of urban life. The first story is called Neman Tran,
434. 20:57–21:03which means invitation. And honestly, it is a deeply cynical, heart-breaking look at how modern
435. 21:03–21:09ambition destroys traditional relationships. Numan Tran is a brilliant exploration of the
436. 21:09–21:15transactional nature of urban life. It asks what happens to loyalty when upward mobility
437. 21:15–21:17becomes the ultimate goal.
438. 21:17–21:18Let me walk you through it.
439. 21:18–21:23The story follows a young couple, Sokshin, who is an aspiring journalist, and Nita, who
440. 21:23–21:25is a talented Kathak dancer.
441. 21:25–21:28The narrative spans across multiple cities.
442. 21:28–21:31They move through Paritabad, Agra, and eventually Delhi.
443. 21:31–21:36They meet, they fall deeply in love, and Sokshin makes massive life-altering sacrifices for
444. 21:36–21:37her.
445. 21:37–21:38Like what?
446. 21:38–21:42Well, he gets into a minor dispute at his job, and he basically uses it as an excuse
447. 21:42–21:46to just quit in anger so he can move to Delhi specifically to be closer to Nita.
448. 21:46–21:47Oh wow.
449. 21:47–21:51Yeah, he acts as her whole support system. He builds her website, he promotes her art,
450. 21:51–21:56he's entirely devoted to her success. But then the turning point happens.
451. 21:56–21:58Nita gets a prestigious scholarship to go to America.
452. 21:58–22:03And the geographic distance immediately reveals the fragile nature of their bond.
453. 22:03–22:06Instantly, the moment she crosses the ocean, the dynamic completely flips.
454. 22:06–22:09She stops returning his calls with the same enthusiasm.
455. 22:09–22:10The classic fade out.
456. 22:10–22:14Right. Eventually she calls Sachin to deliver the final blow.
457. 22:15–22:19She tells him that she is marrying someone else, an affluent man named Samarendra.
458. 22:20–22:23And she coldly cuts ties with Sachin, essentially telling him that
459. 22:23–22:26a life with him wouldn't align with her new trajectory.
460. 22:26–22:31She makes a calculated, brutal choice. She looks at her life as a ledger,
461. 22:31–22:35and she determines that Samarendra is a better asset for her new,
462. 22:35–22:38upwardly mobile life in America than Sachin.
463. 22:38–22:40Even though Sochi sacrificed everything for her.
464. 22:40–22:42Right, she trades loyalty for ambition.
465. 22:42–22:45And the story gets so incredibly dark from there.
466. 22:45–22:47Sochi is completely devastated.
467. 22:47–22:50In his heartbreak and his fury, he essentially curses her.
468. 22:50–22:51He wishes ill upon her.
469. 22:51–22:52That's intense.
470. 22:52–22:53And shockingly, a little while later,
471. 22:53–22:55Samuendra suddenly dies.
472. 22:55–22:56Oh wow.
473. 22:56–22:56I know.
474. 22:56–22:58And what does Neeta do?
475. 22:58–23:01She actually calls Sochi, not to apologize, but to blame him.
476. 23:01–23:04She accuses him of killing her husband with his curse.
477. 23:04–23:06So the relationship ends in just total toxicity.
478. 23:06–23:08total toxic alienation.
479. 23:08–23:10The story then jumps forward many years.
480. 23:10–23:13Sajin has channeled all his pain into his career.
481. 23:13–23:16He is now a highly successful top tier journalist.
482. 23:16–23:18So he achieves his goal too.
483. 23:18–23:19Yes.
484. 23:19–23:22As the story ends, he is packing his bags to fly to New York
485. 23:22–23:23to address the United Nations.
486. 23:23–23:26Before he leaves, he receives an invitation,
487. 23:26–23:29a Niman Tran to one of Nita's dance performances.
488. 23:29–23:30And how does he react?
489. 23:30–23:32He feels absolutely nothing.
490. 23:32–23:33He just throws the invitation away
491. 23:33–23:35and heads to the airport.
492. 23:35–23:42Man, if we look at the sociological underpinnings of Navantran, it is a tragic thesis on the cost
493. 23:42–23:49of modern success. Both Sachin and Nita actually achieve exactly what they set out to do professionally.
494. 23:49–23:52Right. Nita makes it to America, Sachin makes it to the United Nations.
495. 23:52–23:58They win the game of urban ambition. But the cost of that victory is the complete destruction of
496. 23:58–24:05their traditional romantic loyalty. The city and the hyper-individualistic ambition it demands
497. 24:05–24:07strips away their humanity and their connection to each other.
498. 24:07–24:10They become successful, but they become entirely isolated.
499. 24:10–24:11Exactly.
500. 24:11–24:14They survived the city, but they lost their souls in the process.
501. 24:14–24:19Now, Utpal's second story in the anthology deals with a very different kind of urban survival.
502. 24:19–24:20Ah, yes.
503. 24:20–24:25This story is titled Gory Par-Shar-Leb-Hum Degree, which I absolutely love.
504. 24:25–24:29It roughly translates to, I'll take my degree riding on a horse.
505. 24:29–24:30It's a fantastic title.
506. 24:30–24:31Oh.
507. 24:31–24:32Full of bravado.
508. 24:32–24:33Right.
509. 24:33–24:36And this story explores a struggle that millions of migrant students face,
510. 24:36–24:42the crushing weight of parental expectations, and the intense linguistic gatekeeping of the capital city.
511. 24:42–24:45A very real, very common story.
512. 24:45–24:49The story centers on a character named Alak Babu. He's originally from Rhaepur.
513. 24:49–24:54And his trajectory is a wild ride of failures and pivots.
514. 24:54–24:55Because of his parents.
515. 24:55–24:58Yeah, his parents, like so many middle-class parents in the region,
516. 24:58–25:01view education purely as a financial investment.
517. 25:01–25:05They pressure him relentlessly to pass the exams to become a chartered accountant, a CA.
518. 25:05–25:08It is seen as a safe, prestigious, money-making path.
519. 25:08–25:11But Olock isn't a numbers guy. He fails the exams,
520. 25:11–25:14so his parents pivot and force him to study law.
521. 25:14–25:15Also considered a safe bet.
522. 25:15–25:19But he is miserable. To escape the suffocating pressure of his reality,
523. 25:19–25:24he obsessively consumes cinema. And there's this one incredibly vivid detail in the text
524. 25:24–25:26that tells you everything you need to know about Olock.
525. 25:26–25:28Oh, the Rotor Act club speech.
526. 25:28–25:35Yes. Before he moves away, he delivers this captivating all-night speech at a local Rotorack
527. 25:35–25:40Club meeting. He holds the entire room spellbound as he tells a story from his childhood.
528. 25:40–25:41It's a great scene.
529. 25:41–25:45He talks about having an incredibly strict father and how he once meticulously stole
530. 25:45–25:51exactly three and a half rupees from his grandfather's wallet just so he could sneak
531. 25:51–25:55out and buy a ticket to watch a Bollywood movie called Jung Buzz starring Govinda.
532. 25:55–25:59That details, stealing exactly three and a half rupees
533. 25:59–26:02for a movie ticket is brilliant writing.
534. 26:02–26:04It perfectly highlights the innocence of his small town
535. 26:04–26:07past against the brutal pressure cooker environment
536. 26:07–26:09he's about to enter in Delhi.
537. 26:09–26:10Because Delhi is a completely different world.
538. 26:10–26:11Right.
539. 26:11–26:14And it also establishes who a lock really is.
540. 26:14–26:16He isn't a corporate drone.
541. 26:16–26:17He's a natural storyteller.
542. 26:17–26:20He's a creative soul being forced into rigid corporate
543. 26:20–26:22boxes by his parents' anxieties.
544. 26:22–26:24And then the pressure cooker really amps up.
545. 26:24–26:29He finally escapes the law degree and convinces his family to let him move to Delhi to study journalism.
546. 26:29–26:31Specifically to Beresaray.
547. 26:31–26:34Yes, he moves to a neighborhood called Beresaray.
548. 26:34–26:37For our listeners who don't know Delhi, Beresaray is legendary.
549. 26:37–26:45It is basically a dense, chaotic hub packed with thousands of migrant students living in knee-crampt rooms.
550. 26:45–26:49All cramming for competitive exams, all desperate to secure a future.
551. 26:49–26:50Exactly.
552. 26:50–26:56So Alok applies to study journalism at the prestigious Haretia Vidyabhafan.
553. 26:56–26:59But here's where he hits a massive wall.
554. 26:59–27:01Alok is terrified of the English language.
555. 27:01–27:04This is a profound and widespread phenomenon.
556. 27:04–27:10He's a fluent Hindi and Mathili speaker, but in the corridors of power in Delhi, English
557. 27:10–27:12is the ultimate gatekeeper.
558. 27:12–27:17He views the polished English-speaking Delhi crowd with a mix of absolute awe and sheer
559. 27:17–27:18terror.
560. 27:18–27:19Yeah.
561. 27:19–27:23where everyone else seems to know the rules and you realize the referee keeps changing the rules
562. 27:23–27:27just to make sure you lose. That's exactly how it feels. That's what Ollock feels like. It's a
563. 27:27–27:33massive linguistic imposter syndrome. He assumes that because he doesn't speak grammatically perfect
564. 27:33–27:38English he fundamentally cannot compete in the capital. It's a huge barrier. He goes to take the
565. 27:38–27:43journalism entrance exam, which is conducted in English. He walks out of the exam hall completely
566. 27:43–27:49defeated, absolutely convinced he has failed. He tells his friend, I just don't know the English
567. 27:49–27:51these deli people speak.
568. 27:51–27:55And his friend's response is one of the most honest assessments of urban posturing you will
569. 27:55–27:56ever hear.
570. 27:56–27:57Yes.
571. 27:57–28:00His friend laughs and tells him a secret.
572. 28:00–28:06He says, listen, most of the people in deli actually speak terrible, grammatically incorrect
573. 28:06–28:10English, but they speak it with so much confidence and arrogance that it intimidates
574. 28:10–28:12people like us from the villages.
575. 28:12–28:13It's all a bluff.
576. 28:13–28:16It's all a bluff, and the proof comes when the results are posted.
577. 28:16–28:20A look almost doesn't even go to check the board because he's so embarrassed.
578. 28:20–28:24But shockingly, he hasn't just passed the exam, he has crushed it.
579. 28:24–28:25He does incredibly well.
580. 28:25–28:28He ranks fifth overall in the entire institution.
581. 28:28–28:33Which proves that his fundamental communication skills, his ability to actually observe the
582. 28:33–28:36world and tell a compelling story, just like he did at the Rotorack Club with the
583. 28:36–28:41three and a half rupees, those skills transcend his grammatical insecurities.
584. 28:41–28:46The story ends by beautifully capturing the gritty, exhausted reality of his survival
585. 28:46–28:52in Delhi. He lives on late night study sessions, drinking endless little cups of cheap tea,
586. 28:52–28:56and surviving on greasy bread pakoras from a local street vendor named Sharmaji.
587. 28:56–28:59It's the quintessential migrant student hustle.
588. 28:59–29:04But I want to ask you about the broader implications of Alec's struggle. English was weaponized
589. 29:04–29:10against him to make him feel inferior. Does the language of our education dictate the
590. 29:10–29:13limits of our ambition? Because Alec almost gave up entirely.
591. 29:13–29:15He was very close to quitting.
592. 29:15–29:20Is his ultimate success proof that raw talent and street smarts can punch through that linguistic
593. 29:20–29:21barrier?
594. 29:21–29:23Or is he just a lucky exception?
595. 29:23–29:27That is the core tension of the post-colonial migrant experience.
596. 29:27–29:31The language of the metropolis, in this case, English acts as a deliberate gatekeeper.
597. 29:31–29:32Right?
598. 29:32–29:36It is designed to keep people like Alec out to preserve the elite status of those who
599. 29:36–29:38grew up in English medium schools.
600. 29:38–29:43Alec's fear is entirely justified by the systemic biases he faces.
601. 29:43–29:44It's a rigged game.
602. 29:44–29:48His story argues that while language dictates the terms of the strudel,
603. 29:48–29:51it doesn't have to dictate the limit of the ambition.
604. 29:51–29:57He weaponizes his street smarts and his innate storytelling ability to bypass the gatekeepers.
605. 29:57–29:59He beats them at their own game?
606. 29:59–30:00He does.
607. 30:00–30:04But we must acknowledge the immense psychological toll this takes.
608. 30:04–30:08The Linguistic Imposter Syndrome forces students from regional backgrounds
609. 30:08–30:13to expend massive amounts of emotional energy just to prove they belong in the room.
610. 30:13–30:14in the room.
611. 30:14–30:18Energy that privileged students can spend entirely on their studies.
612. 30:18–30:19Exactly.
613. 30:19–30:23So they basically have to run twice as fast just to stay at the starting line.
614. 30:23–30:26We've seen the raw working-class realities of the modern writers.
615. 30:26–30:29We've explored the geographical trauma of the cozy floods.
616. 30:29–30:33We've followed the youth like Alec Babu battling the linguistic gatekeepers of Delhi.
617. 30:33–30:34It's a lot of struggle.
618. 30:34–30:38But to really understand how Mathili literature got to a point where young people could
619. 30:38–30:41write these modern stories, we need to look back.
620. 30:41–30:45need to look at the foundations, the giants whose shoulders Safi and Udhpala are standing
621. 30:45–30:46on.
622. 30:46–30:47Yes.
623. 30:47–30:50The anthology provides a crucial historical anchor.
624. 30:50–30:55It includes an incredibly detailed interview with one of the absolute legends of Mathili
625. 30:55–30:57literature, Meenan Misra.
626. 30:57–31:02This interview was conducted by Vanit Udhpala back in 2004 on the occasion of Misra winning
627. 31:02–31:05the prestigious Proboed Saman Award.
628. 31:05–31:10And as you read through Misra's life story, it reads like a living history book of the
629. 31:10–31:13a mathilly language itself throughout the 20th century.
630. 31:13–31:15His biography perfectly encapsulates
631. 31:15–31:17all the major themes we've been discussing today.
632. 31:17–31:19He was born in the early 1930s.
633. 31:19–31:22And what is the defining event of his childhood?
634. 31:22–31:24Let me guess, the river.
635. 31:24–31:27In 1940, in 1941, his family is completely displaced
636. 31:27–31:28by the cozy flood.
637. 31:28–31:30The unforgiving river strikes again.
638. 31:30–31:33The physical geography forces his family out of their home,
639. 31:33–31:35displacing them to a place called Govindpur.
640. 31:35–31:37And around this same time,
641. 31:37–31:39he suffers a profound personal tragedy.
642. 31:39–31:40He loses his mother.
643. 31:40–31:42And out of that trauma and displacement,
644. 31:42–31:44he turns to writing to process his grief.
645. 31:44–31:47His very first works, written around 1945,
646. 31:47–31:49were devotional songs.
647. 31:49–31:50Right, very traditional.
648. 31:50–31:54He was writing deeply localized religious music,
649. 31:54–31:56but then his literary evolution
650. 31:56–31:58takes a really fascinating turn.
651. 31:58–32:01He doesn't stay in the realm of devotional music.
652. 32:01–32:04In 1951, he writes a piece called Bongak Lota,
653. 32:04–32:07and it isn't a tragedy, it's a famous comedy.
654. 32:07–32:08And comedy, as we discussed
655. 32:08–32:14the Patnevac anecdote earlier, is often a crucial step in a culture's literary maturation.
656. 32:14–32:15Oh, so?
657. 32:15–32:19It allows the society to critique its own flaws and absurdities safely.
658. 32:19–32:24You do it through the lens of humor without inviting direct political retaliation.
659. 32:24–32:26But Mishra doesn't stop at comedy either.
660. 32:26–32:30As he matures and as India moves through the 50s and 60s, his writing shifts again.
661. 32:30–32:32He gets much more complex.
662. 32:32–32:38He moves into deep, serious, psychological, and highly experimental poetry and prose.
663. 32:38–32:42The interview mentions monumental works like Agmo Am A. Pithar, which translates to fire,
664. 32:42–32:45wax and stone, and another work called Deschanteur.
665. 32:45–32:46These are heavy pieces.
666. 32:46–32:50He starts writing complex, challenging narratives about existential dread, social struggle,
667. 32:50–32:52and human psychology.
668. 32:52–32:58What is truly fascinating here is how Mishra's personal literary evolution mirrors the evolution
669. 32:58–33:01of the Mathery language's status on the national stage.
670. 33:01–33:03Oh, that's an interesting parallel.
671. 33:03–33:08moves from the localized religious sphere devotional songs sung in village courtyards
672. 33:08–33:14to light entertainment and comedy, and finally into a robust, muscular, modern literary form
673. 33:14–33:19capable of grappling with the most complex psychological themes of the 20th century.
674. 33:19–33:24I look at Maine and Mishra's career trajectory, you know, moving from simple devotional songs to
675. 33:24–33:30heavy experimental psychological poetry, and I have to ask, is that progression a requirement?
676. 33:30–33:31What do you mean?
677. 33:31–33:36Like, does a regional language have to prove it can do the heavy, depressing, psychological
678. 33:36–33:40lifting in order to be taken seriously by the national establishment?
679. 33:40–33:46Like, the Beatles going from pop to state pepper, can't a language just be respected for its comedy and its folk songs?
680. 33:46–33:50It's a great question. And the unfortunate reality of literary institutions is that,
681. 33:50–33:53yes, they demand a certain type of gravitas before they confer recognition.
682. 33:53–33:55They want the serious stuff.
683. 33:55–34:00Right. A language must demonstrate that it is an intellectual vehicle capable of holding the full
684. 34:00–34:03spectrum of the human experience.
685. 34:03–34:08Folk songs and comedy are often dismissed by national academies as provincial or quaint.
686. 34:08–34:09That's a shame, but I get it.
687. 34:09–34:14To be recognized alongside towering languages like Hindi or Bengali, Mithili had to prove
688. 34:14–34:19it could articulate tragedy, complexity, and modern alienation.
689. 34:19–34:24Meina and Mishra, through sheer force of intellect, proved that Mithili could do
690. 34:24–34:25exactly that.
691. 34:25–34:29And he didn't just prove it on the page, he fought for it in the halls of power.
692. 34:29–34:31Misra didn't just write in isolation.
693. 34:31–34:33He actively advocated for his language.
694. 34:33–34:34He was a major political force.
695. 34:34–34:37He associated with titans of Indian literature,
696. 34:37–34:40massive figures like Phanashwaranath Reynu
697. 34:40–34:41and Ramdari Singh Dinkar.
698. 34:41–34:44And he was instrumental in a monumental political victory,
699. 34:44–34:47getting Mitheli officially recognized
700. 34:47–34:48by the Sahitya Academy.
701. 34:48–34:51Which is huge for our global listeners.
702. 34:51–34:54The Sahitya Academy is India's national academy of letters.
703. 34:54–34:56It is the highest literary authority in the country.
704. 34:56–34:58Getting a language recognized by them
705. 34:58–35:00isn't just a symbolic trophy.
706. 35:00–35:02It unlocks funding.
707. 35:02–35:04It allows the language to be taught in universities.
708. 35:04–35:06It preserves it for the future.
709. 35:06–35:08The interview notes that this recognition
710. 35:08–35:11was heavily influenced by a direct meeting
711. 35:11–35:13Mishra and his contemporaries had
712. 35:13–35:15with Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru.
713. 35:15–35:16That's right.
714. 35:16–35:19He took the fight from the flooded villages of Bihar
715. 35:19–35:21directly to the Prime Minister of India.
716. 35:21–35:24And his ultimate belief, stated at the end of the interview,
717. 35:24–35:27is simple but incredibly profound.
718. 35:27–35:30He says the Bhati will always remain.
719. 35:30–35:35Vijapati being of course the iconic 14th century Mithili poet whose work forms the
720. 35:35–35:36bedrock of their culture.
721. 35:36–35:37Right.
722. 35:37–35:41Mishra believed that if they fought for the language, its roots were deep enough to survive
723. 35:41–35:42any modern storm.
724. 35:42–35:47Mishra represents a generation that carried the weight of a culture on their backs.
725. 35:47–35:50They fought to legitimize the language institutionally.
726. 35:50–35:54By securing that recognition from the Sathya Akademi, they built the foundation that
727. 35:54–36:00allows the current generation writers like Safi and Utpal to write their raw modern stories
728. 36:00–36:06about bicycle shops and deli cyber cafes without constantly having to justify the very existence
729. 36:06–36:07of the language itself.
730. 36:07–36:11But as we move into the final segment of our deep dive, we see that the battle for the
731. 36:11–36:14Mithili language is far from over.
732. 36:14–36:16It hasn't ended, it has just shifted arenas.
733. 36:16–36:17Exactly.
734. 36:17–36:22We're moving from the preservation of language in the pages of literature to the weaponization
735. 36:22–36:25of language on the international political stage.
736. 36:25–36:28This brings us to the Kathmandu controversy.
737. 36:28–36:33This is arguably the most explosive and revealing piece of source material in the entire anthology.
738. 36:33–36:38It shows us what happens when language, identity and state power collide in real time.
739. 36:38–36:39It really does.
740. 36:39–36:43This section is a journalistic report written by Sujit Kumarja.
741. 36:43–36:47It details a highly publicized incident involving the president of Nepal at the time, Dr. Ram
742. 36:47–36:49Buranyadav.
743. 36:49–36:51And here is the crucial context for that.
744. 36:51–36:52Yeah please.
745. 36:52–36:58Dr. Yadav is a native Methil. He was born into the culture. Methili is his mother tongue.
746. 36:58–36:59Okay, so he's one of them.
747. 36:59–37:05Yes. And he is invited to attend the International Methili Conference, which is being held in
748. 37:05–37:12Kathmandu, the capital of Nepal. The entire stage is set specifically to celebrate and
749. 37:12–37:14promote the Methili language.
750. 37:14–37:18Right. The scenario we talked about in the intro. So Dr. Yadav walks up to the podium.
751. 37:18–37:23He looks out at an audience of his own people and he chooses to deliver his entire speech
752. 37:23–37:24in Nepali.
753. 37:24–37:25The official state language.
754. 37:25–37:26Yes.
755. 37:26–37:31And the reaction from the Mathill community was immediate, visceral and furious.
756. 37:31–37:33Furious feels like an understatement.
757. 37:33–37:37The report cites over 40 angry Facebook posts from community members that flooded the
758. 37:37–37:39internet instantly.
759. 37:39–37:40Critics were absolutely livid.
760. 37:40–37:43They felt he hadn't just made a scheduling error.
761. 37:43–37:46They felt he had actively abandoned his roots for political safety.
762. 37:46–37:48And it wasn't just the words he spoke either.
763. 37:48–37:51No, it was what he was wearing.
764. 37:51–37:56The critics pointed out that upon becoming president, Dr. Yadav swapped his traditional
765. 37:56–38:01Mayfield attire, the Doti Kruta, which is historically associated with the Mayfield people
766. 38:01–38:06of the Parai Plains, for the official Nepali national dress, the Darasurul.
767. 38:06–38:09Which is historically associated with the hill elites of Nepal.
768. 38:09–38:14Right, even at a conference dedicated to his own culture, they noted bitterly he
769. 38:14–38:20wouldn't take off the Nepali hat. The visual symbolism of the clothing change deeply compounded
770. 38:20–38:25the linguistic choice. In the volatile ethnic politics of Nepal, where the Pterite Plains
771. 38:25–38:30communities have historically felt marginalized by the hill-centric government in Kathmandu,
772. 38:30–38:35the duty kuta versus the door sewer wall isn't just about fashion. It's a political statement.
773. 38:35–38:39It's about allegiance. To the audience, his choice of dress and language was perceived as
774. 38:39–38:45a total shedding of his ethnic identity in favor of a homogenized, state-approved national identity.
775. 38:45–38:49The article makes this really sharp, biting contrast to drive the point home.
776. 38:49–38:53It points out that when US President Barack Obama visited India,
777. 38:53–38:58he made a deliberate effort to speak a few words of Hindi to win the hearts of the people.
778. 38:58–38:59Right. Diplomacy 101.
779. 38:59–39:01The article asks,
780. 39:01–39:04If an American president can speak Hindi to show respect,
781. 39:04–39:11Why couldn't a native Mathille president bring himself to speak Mathilly at a Mathilly conference?
782. 39:11–39:12It's a potent question.
783. 39:12–39:15But I have to stop here and ask you a skeptical question.
784. 39:15–39:19Because looking at this from the outside, I don't entirely get the anger.
785. 39:19–39:20Okay, lay it on me.
786. 39:20–39:25If you were the president of an entire nation, doesn't your job description fundamentally change?
787. 39:25–39:31Dr. Yadav represents all of Nepal, a country with dozens of different ethnic groups and languages.
788. 39:31–39:36If he goes to a conference and speaks his specific regional dialect, doesn't that alienate the rest of the country?
789. 39:36–39:38I see where you're going.
790. 39:38–39:42Isn't speaking Nepali just standard protocol for the head of state?
791. 39:42–39:46Why is following basic state protocol seen as a profound betrayal?
792. 39:46–39:54That is exactly the defense that his political allies would use, and it is a completely valid perspective from the viewpoint of statecraft.
793. 39:54–39:58As president, he is the symbol of national unity.
794. 39:58–40:04Speaking the official language, wearing the official dress, is a calculated move to project cohesion
795. 40:04–40:07and demonstrate that he is not playing favorites with his own ethnic group.
796. 40:07–40:08Right, that makes sense.
797. 40:08–40:14However, we have to look at this impartially and understand the mechanics of minority erasure.
798. 40:14–40:18For a dominant group, standard protocol feels like unity.
799. 40:18–40:23For a marginalized group, standard protocol often feels like forced assimilation.
800. 40:23–40:26Okay, unpack that for me. How does protocol become assimilation?
801. 40:26–40:30Think about the venue. It wasn't a general address to the nation. It was the International
802. 40:30–40:35Mythility Conference. The context matters. To bring in the final piece of source material
803. 40:35–40:40from our anthology, which adds immense academic weight to their anger. The text cites Article
804. 40:40–40:462 of the UNESCO Convention. What does the convention say? This convention defines intangible
805. 40:46–40:51cultural heritage as the practices, expressions, knowledge, and skills transmitted across
806. 40:51–40:56generations that provide a community with a sense of identity and continuity.
807. 40:56–40:57Okay.
808. 40:57–41:02Language is the ultimate primary vehicle for intangible cultural heritage.
809. 41:02–41:06If a language is not spoken in the public sphere, if it is relegated only to the private
810. 41:06–41:09home, it begins to die.
811. 41:09–41:10It loses its power.
812. 41:10–41:14So when the president, the most powerful Mayfield person in the country, chose not to speak
813. 41:14–41:19the language at a conference specifically dedicated to its survival, the audience felt he was
814. 41:19–41:23validating the state's historical marginalization of their culture.
815. 41:23–41:25So to them, it wasn't just protocol.
816. 41:25–41:26No.
817. 41:26–41:30To them, he was actively participating in the erasure of their heritage on the very
818. 41:30–41:31stagement to celebrate it.
819. 41:31–41:34It's like the concept of the costume of the soul.
820. 41:34–41:38He's standing up there wearing the physical national costume of the state, the dora
821. 41:38–41:39sura wall.
822. 41:39–41:43But the audience feels that by refusing to speak the language, he has entirely stripped
823. 41:43–41:45off the linguistic costume of his soul.
824. 41:45–41:47That's a beautiful way to put it.
825. 41:47–41:53So looking at this incredibly tense situation, at what point does necessary political assimilation
826. 41:53–41:56cross the line and become cultural erasure?
827. 41:56–42:01Is it actually possible to reach the highest levels of national or international power without
828. 42:01–42:06leaving your mother tongue, your specific identity at the door?
829. 42:06–42:10That is the ultimate crucible of modern minority politics all over the world, not just
830. 42:10–42:11in Nepal.
831. 42:11–42:14There is no easy mathematical answer.
832. 42:14–42:18The line between assimilation and erasure is entirely subjective, and it depends entirely
833. 42:18–42:20on where you are standing.
834. 42:20–42:24For the state, assimilation is a necessary tool for survival and cohesion.
835. 42:24–42:26A fractured state is a weak state.
836. 42:26–42:27True.
837. 42:27–42:31But for the minority community, assimilation is a slow death.
838. 42:31–42:34It is the gradual fading of their unique voice into the background noise of the
839. 42:34–42:36majority.
840. 42:36–42:40The intense fiery reaction to the president's speech in Kathmandu shows that for the Mothill
841. 42:40–42:44community, their language is not just a tool for asking for directions or buying groceries.
842. 42:44–42:45It's much deeper than that.
843. 42:45–42:50It is the very bedrock of their political, historical, and cultural existence.
844. 42:50–42:54To lose the language in the public sphere is to lose their visibility as a people.
845. 42:54–42:58Which brings us full circle. We have been on an immense journey today through the pages of
846. 42:58–43:00Vedea Sadeha 35.
847. 43:00–43:05We truly have. We have seen the full, vibrant, and sometimes painful spectrum of a culture in
848. 43:05–43:07in perpetual motion.
849. 43:07–43:09We started by looking at the raw,
850. 43:09–43:12unvarnished truth of modern Maitreya identity.
851. 43:12–43:15We saw young writers like Safi completely rejecting
852. 43:15–43:18the sanitized elite histories of the past,
853. 43:18–43:20choosing instead to write honestly
854. 43:20–43:22about the struggles of washing clothes
855. 43:22–43:24and running bicycle shops, democratizing the literature
856. 43:24–43:25in the process.
857. 43:25–43:26Unnecessary reckoning.
858. 43:26–43:30Then we unpacked the terrifying geographical reality
859. 43:30–43:34of the Kosy River and the profound necessary fatalism
860. 43:34–43:37that allows a community to survive mass drownings
861. 43:37–43:39and find the strength to rebuild their lives in the mud.
862. 43:39–43:41A literal survival mechanism.
863. 43:41–43:43We followed the youth exodus,
864. 43:43–43:45watching students like Alak Babu flee
865. 43:45–43:47to the cramped rooms of Delhi,
866. 43:47–43:49battling the linguistic imposter syndrome
867. 43:49–43:50of the English language,
868. 43:50–43:53and sacrificing their traditional notions of romance
869. 43:53–43:55for the cold demands of urban ambition.
870. 43:55–43:56The modern struggle.
871. 43:56–43:57We also looked backward,
872. 43:57–44:00honoring the immense foundational work of giants
873. 44:00–44:01like Meynan Mishra,
874. 44:01–44:04who lived through those devastating floods
875. 44:04–44:06evolved the language from village comedy
876. 44:06–44:08to serious experimental poetry
877. 44:08–44:10and fought the political battles necessary
878. 44:10–44:13to get Mythily recognized by the National Academy.
879. 44:13–44:16Giving the next generation a platform.
880. 44:16–44:19And finally, we saw how all of that history,
881. 44:19–44:22all of that trauma and all of that passion boils over
882. 44:22–44:25onto the modern political stage in Kathmandu.
883. 44:25–44:28We saw how the simple choice between speaking Nepali
884. 44:28–44:31or speaking Mythily at a podium becomes a fiery,
885. 44:31–44:35existential debate about the survival of the culture itself.
886. 44:35–44:37It is a complex, deeply beautiful,
887. 44:37–44:40and incredibly resilient cultural landscape.
888. 44:40–44:43They're the people who refuse to be quietly washed away
889. 44:43–44:44by the river or by the state.
890. 44:44–44:45They truly are.
891. 44:45–44:46And I want to leave you the listener
892. 44:46–44:49with one final provocative thought to mull over.
893. 44:49–44:51It connects back to that UNESCO definition
894. 44:51–44:53of intangible heritage we just talked about.
895. 44:53–44:54Right.
896. 44:54–44:56The document explicitly states that heritage
897. 44:56–44:58isn't a static museum piece.
898. 44:58–45:01It is something that is constantly recreated by communities
899. 45:01–45:03in response to their environment and their history.
900. 45:03–45:04It has to adapt.
901. 45:04–45:05Exactly.
902. 45:05–45:08Perhaps the survival of the Methili identity
903. 45:08–45:11or any regional identity facing the crush of globalization
904. 45:11–45:14isn't about freezing it in the past.
905. 45:14–45:16It's not just about staying in the village,
906. 45:16–45:17wearing the traditional clothes,
907. 45:17–45:20and speaking the absolute curest, oldest form of the language.
908. 45:20–45:21Because that's not living.
909. 45:21–45:22Right.
910. 45:22–45:25If a culture can adapt to the chaotic cyber cafes
911. 45:25–45:28and the brutal competitive exams of Delhi,
912. 45:28–45:34If it can produce raw, working-class autobiographies that challenge the patriarchy, and if it has
913. 45:34–45:39the political energy to force fiery debates on the international stages of Kathmandu,
914. 45:39–45:43maybe the true test of a language isn't its historical purity.
915. 45:43–45:46Maybe the true test is its elasticity.
916. 45:46–45:48Can it stretch without breaking?
917. 45:48–45:52Can a culture bend to the neon lights, the concrete and the English demands of the
918. 45:52–45:56modern world without breaking its deep ancient ties to the soil?
919. 45:56–46:01As you imagine standing on that bridge between the ancient village and the globalized city,
920. 46:01–46:04maybe the answer isn't that you have to choose just one side.
921. 46:04–46:08Maybe the language itself constantly evolving, constantly fighting is the bridge.
922. 46:08–46:09That's a powerful thought.
923. 46:09–46:14Thank you for joining us on this deep dive into the fascinating turbulent world of the
924. 46:14–46:19the Mephili cultural landscape. Keep questioning the world around you, keep learning, and we'll
925. 46:19–46:20catch you next time.

Plain text

Imagine you are the president of your country. Like, you've spent your entire life climbing this incredibly treacherous ladder of national politics. Right. Decades of work. Decades! And you finally reached the summit. And now, you're invited to step up to the podium at a major, highly publicized international conference. Okay. Setting the scene. Yeah. And the entire purpose of this specific conference is to celebrate your native language, like the language of your ancestors. The language you literally spoke as a child. Exactly, the mother tongue of the specific ethnic group you were born into. So you look out into the crowd, you see your people looking back at you, waiting to hear their language validated on the world stage by the highest office in the land. Which is a huge deal for any community. Oh, absolutely massive. But then you lean into the microphone and you refuse to speak it. Wow. Yeah, you completely ignore it and you choose to speak the official standardized language of the state instead. See it's that kind of moment that doesn't just, you know, start a political debate. It starts a full-on cultural firestorm because it touches a nerve so deep that people don't just feel disappointed. No. They feel actively erased. Right, exactly. And today we are taking a deep dive into a culture that is quite literally fighting for its life. I mean they're fighting against devastating annual floods, they're fighting the relentless pull of mega cities, and as we just hinted at they are fighting their own politician. There's a fight on every front. So welcome to the deep dive. Today we're immersing ourselves in this massive incredibly multi-layered document that just captures the struggle perfectly. Yeah, it really does. It's called Videja Sadeja 35 and it's a volume four anthology from a Mathilii journal which is edited by Gojendra Thakur. Now if you are listening to this and wondering what exactly is Mathilii, let's just quickly set the stage. Good idea. Mathilli is an Indo-Aryan language and it is spoken by tens of millions of people, primarily in the Bihar region of India and also the Eastern Terai region of Nepal. And historically, I mean it is a language with this incredibly rich deep literary tradition. Oh, absolutely. But what makes this specific anthology, the day I said, day 35, so vital is that it isn't just, you know, looking backward at some golden age. Right. It's staring unflinchingly at the present day. It really is. And, you know, even before you read a single word, the document just sets a tone. Like visually it is straight. Oh, the artwork is amazing. You open it up and you're immediately greeted with this traditional Mayfield art. There's this deeply intricate white circular mandala and it's set against this textured blood red background. Which just feels so ancient and grounded. Right, but then you turn the page and there's another drawing. It's intensely colored in red and blue and it depicts the traditional drum of bow and this, Well, this really fascinating, almost chaotic winged creature. Yeah, that winged creature is so striking. And honestly, it perfectly represents the text itself. How so? Well, because the anthology isn't just one thing. It's this wild, completely unfiltered mix of short stories and biting literary critiques and then deeply personal memoirs and hard-hitting journalistic reports. Which is exactly what you need, right? I mean, if you're trying to understand a society that is in the midst of a massive transition. Exactly. A culture is never a monolith. It's literature shouldn't be either. You need the poetry just as much as you need the journalism if you want to see the full picture. So our mission for you on this deep dive is to map out this shifting landscape. By unpacking these wildly diverse writings, we're going to explore how the Mayfield community navigates the tension between honoring their ancient roots and, well, basically just surviving the modern world. It's a huge balancing act. It is. We're going to look at the raw truth of their working class, the terrifying reality of their geography, the exodus of their youth, and the really intense political battles over their identity. And I've brought you here to help us sort of connect the dots between these incredibly personal stories and the massive sociological shifts happening in the background. I am ready. I mean, the material we have today is remarkable because it shows us a culture that's actively wrestling with its own reflection. It's not a static museum exhibit. Yeah. It's a living, breathing, cultural organism that is figuring out how to survive in the 21st century. Okay, so let's start with that reflection. Because think about how we tell our own stories today. If you go on social media, you usually see a highly curated version of someone's life, right? Well, of course. The highlight reel. Exactly. The promotion, the amazing vacation, the perfect relationship. You rarely see, like, the bank account overdrafts or the arguments. Alright. Well, historically, literature has functioned in a very similar way. And this anthology kicks off with a massive shift in how the faithful people are choosing to write about themselves. Moving away from the filter. Yes. We're moving from a polished, sanitized past to a very gritty, unvarnished present. I want to look at a literary critique in the anthology written by a man named Ashish Unkhar. Oh yeah, Anxinhar's critique is fantastic. He's reviewing a book by Sandeep Kumar Safi, which is titled, Bay Shock May Dalin Par. And this critique by Anjanhar is basically foundational to understanding modern Maitreya literature. He is essentially blowing the whistle on the literary establishment. He holds absolutely nothing back. Anjanhar completely dismantles the tradition of Maitreya autobiographies. He argues that historically, these autobiographies have been entirely sanitized. He uses this really stark terminology referring to the white side and the black side of society. Yeah, it's a very vivid dichotomy. He says that the older generation of writers only ever showed the white side. They highlighted the glory, the intellectual achievements, the positive aspects of their lives, but they deliberately, systematically hid the black side. They hid the poverty, the failures, the immense social inequalities, the manual labor. They created this grand illusion of a flawless, elevated society. Which is of course impossible. Right. But why? Why go to such lengths to pretend everything is perfect? Well to understand that you really have to look at the mechanics of caste and social hierarchy in the region. Okay. Layed out for us. Historically, literature in this part of the world was dominated by the elite castes. In the context of Methilil literature, this primarily meant the Brahmin and Chayesta communities. Got it. represent the priestly and scholarly class, while the caestas represent the scribes and administrators. So they were the ones with the power of the pen. Exactly. When you have an absolute monopoly on the written word, your literature serves a very specific political and social function. It reinforces your position at the top of the hierarchy. Oh, I see. You present an idealized version of your life, because your life is supposed to be the societal ideal. So admitting to failure or struggle would basically crack the facade. Exactly. If the scholarly class admits that they're, you know, struggling to feed their families or that their societal structures are deeply unjust, it undermines the very justification for their elite status. The sanitization wasn't just a stylistic choice. It was a mechanism of power. That makes total sense. And that actually brings us to why Anshunhar is so thrilled with Sandeep Kumar's Sofie's book. Anshunhar praises Sofie precisely because his writing shatters that traditional Brahmin and Kayaesta dominance. Safi embraces the raw unfiltered reality of the working class and the Dalit communities. Right, the communities that have historically been pushed to the very bottom of the caste system. And entirely excluded from the literary narrative. Safi's doing something deeply subversive here. He's taking the prestigious form of literature and using it to document lives that were previously deemed unworthy of the written word. And the details in the text are just so grounded. Like, Soffie doesn't write about grand philosophical debates in village courtyards. No, not at all. He writes about the physical exhaustion of washing clothes. He writes about migrating to a massive tech hub like Bangalore, but not to work as a software engineer. Right, to work as a cook. Exactly. He documents the shift away from traditional prestigious salary jobs toward gritty blue collar survival, like opening a bicycle repair shop. It's a huge pivot. But I want to ask you about the impact of this, because for a listener who might not be familiar with the intense stratification of Indian society, why is writing a story about a bicycle repair shop seen as such a revolutionary act? Because in a deeply stratified society, manual labor is inherently stigmatized. It's tied entirely to your caste and your perceived purity. Oh wow, okay. To be educated, to be part of the literary elite, historically meant that you did not work with with your hands. Your hands were for holding a pen, not a wrench. That is a stark divide. So when a writer proudly claims that space, when Safi says, yes, I wash clothes, I cook food in Bangalore, I fix bicycles, and my life is complex and worthy of exploration, he is completely democratizing the mythily language. He's taking it back from the elite. Exactly. He's unmooring it from the elite casts. It forces the reader to recognize the humanity and the intellectual depth of the working class. It's a society finally willing to look at its own true reflection without the Instagram filter. And they aren't just unmasking class and labor either. They're unmasking gender dynamics as well. There's this quick, brilliant little anecdote buried in this critique that I absolutely loved. It's referred to as the petnipokt anecdote. Patnipokt, meaning the wife worshiper. It's a phenomenal cultural snapshot. It really is. So picture this. There's a large communal feast. Everyone is sitting down, getting ready to eat, but one man is missing. Feku Babu is late. Right. So someone in the crowd casually mentions that Feku Babu isn't there yet because he's a pet nevakt, a wife worshiper. And why is he late? The reason he's late is that he is at home massaging his wife's feet. Which to this group is hilarious. The whole group erupts into mocking laughter. It's clearly meant to be this emasculating insult. The idea that a man would lower himself to serve his wife in that way is laughable to them. Right, it goes against the entire patriarchal structure. But then his friend Soothe here steps in, Soothe here looks at the group, defends his friend, and drops this incredible line. He asks them, is it a bad thing to be a wife worshiper? Is it better to be a prostitute worshiper? It's the ultimate conversation stopper. Oh, completely. The text actually notes that the moment Soothe here says this, the room goes dead silent, and all you can hear is the sound of people suddenly eagerly eating their food. Just aggressively chewing. Yes, they just put their heads down and shut up. It's hilarious, but it's also incredibly sharp. It is sharp because it uses humor to expose the hypocrisy of patriarchal norms. I mean, the men of the feasts find it laughable that a man would show tender, subservient affection to his own wife. Yet the unspoken reality that Soothier points out is that society often turns a blind eye to men who exploit women or engage in infidelity. Soothier is highlighting a twisted moral compass where public affection for a spouse is mocked. But private vice is tolerated. It's just a small anecdote, but it feels massive in its implications. It is massive. And it raises a really fascinating point about how literature functions as a trailing indicator of social change. What do you mean by trailing indicator? Think about the timeline. By the time an anecdote about a man defending massaging his wife's feet, or a story about working as a cook in Bangalore, is actually written down, published in a book, and then celebrated in a formal literary critique. The society has already changed. Exactly. The society has already shifted. Literature is often the last place to catch up. The unmasking, the challenging of the patriarchy, the democratization of labor, these things have already been happening in the private sphere. And the living rooms and the bicycle shops. Sophie is just finally giving it a public voice. So the social landscape is shifting beneath their feet. The old hierarchies are being challenged. But as we move to the next part of the anthology, we see that while society changes, the physical landscape they inhabit remains terrifyingly constant. Yeah, nature doesn't care about social progress. Exactly. Specifically, we have to talk about their vulnerability to the natural world, because if you live in this region, you live at the mercy of the Coasey River. You truly cannot understand the Mayfield cultural identity or their literature without understanding their relationship with water. Right. The transition from social critiques to environmental trauma in this anthology is jarring. But it's absolutely fundamental to their reality. For our listeners who might not be geographers, let's explain the Kosi River. Because this isn't just a gentle stream that occasionally gets a little high in the spring. No, no. The Kosi River is historically known as the Sorrow of Bihar. It originates up in the Himalayas and flows down through Nepal into the flat plains of Bihar, India. and what makes it so dangerous. It's the silt. The river carries massive unimaginable amounts of sand and silt down from the mountains. Over time, this silt builds up and essentially clogs the river's own channel. So the water has to go somewhere else. Exactly. So the river naturally and violently shifts its course. It doesn't just overflow its banks. It carves entirely new paths across the landscape, wiping out everything in its way. Which means you could build a village miles away from the river, And 10 years later, the river could literally run right through your living room. The anthology tackles this head-on. It features a poetic response to one of the most devastating recent events. There's a piece by Varendra Kumaryadov where he's praising a poem written by Rajdev Mendal. And this poem is about the 2008 Kusaha flood. Right, which is deeply etched into the memory of this region as the cozy tragedy. In 2008, the river breached its embankments at Kusaha in Nepal. It essentially abandoned its established channel and swept across areas that hadn't seen a flood in decades. Millions of people were displaced overnight. Just staggering numbers. And Yadav notes how Mandel's poem captures the sheer, unadulterated agony of the people trapped by those rising waters. Is this role? Yadav writes that it was a disaster that made the hair stand on end for people watching it on the news all over the world. But you know for the Mayfield people it wasn't a news story. It was their lives being washed away. Exactly. They're a community defined by a horrific duality. The river is the absolute source of their agricultural livelihood. The water brings the silt and makes the soil fertile. It is water as life. But simultaneously, it's a monster that can destroy generations of work in a single night. It is water as death. And that psychological duality is incredibly difficult to live with. I mean, how do you love the land that constantly tries to kill you? That exact question is explored in, I think, is the most haunting piece in the entire anthology. It's a short story called Na Arjindagi, which translates directly to boat and life. A very fitting title. This story doesn't deal with the macro politics of river management, though. It zooms in on one highly specific, devastating date, August 11th, 2010. A date that clearly serves as a marker of communal trauma. Yeah. This story sets the scene in Quattol village, right on the banks of the Toljiga River, and the atmosphere at the beginning of the story is actually joyous. Which is such a contrast to what's coming. Exactly. There's this festive energy. People in the village are rushing to get on to the small boat because they're heading across the river to attend a feast. You can picture the chaos, right? The bright clothes, the chatter, the excitement. But in their excitement, they completely ignore the danger. They just keep piling onto this small boat, far beyond its capacity. It's a localized tragedy, but it really speaks to to a broader numbness to danger. What do you mean? Well, when you live surrounded by water, a small overloaded boat probably feels like an acceptable daily risk. Right up until the moment it isn't. That is such a good point. So they launch into the river, and halfway across the inevitable happens, the water starts breaching the sides of the boat. And panic sets in. Instant panic. The festive mood just shatters. People start screaming, trying to shift their weight, which obviously only makes it worse. Yeah, tipping the boat further. Exactly, the boat capsizes, and the story describes the river as a monster opening its mouth to swallow the people whole. It is a horrific mass drowning, turning a day of celebration into a nightmare in a matter of seconds. The speed of that transition from celebration to absolute devastation is the hallmark of life in a flood prone geography. But it's the aftermath of the sinking that I really can't stop thinking about. The story shifts focus to a woman named Rathia. She survived, but she has lost her family. Oh, it's heartbreaking. She is on the riverbank wailing, literally physically beating her chest. She is mourning the loss of her loved ones, but also the total destruction of her future. She cries out over and over that her diamond has been lost. It's the primal sound of grief. It is. But then, her young daughter, Munion, walks up to her. And you would expect the child to be crying, too. But Munion is chillingly calm. He looks at her grieving mother and tells her to have patience. She says that no one knows when or how they will die. And then she delivers this line that just floored me. We brought our own fate into this world. We brought our own fate into this world. It is a profound, almost staggering moment of fatalism from a child. It really is. She's saying that birth and death are inextricably linked. And whatever happens, even drowning on the way to a feast, was simply written in the stars before they were even born. I have to push back on this though or at least try to understand the mechanics of this mindset because you know to a Western ear or to anyone outside of this reality that fatalism sounds like giving up. Okay, how so? Let me use an analogy. Imagine you build your dream house on the side of an active volcano. Dangerous choice but okay. Right. You know scientifically that it is going to erupt eventually. Ten years later it erupts and burns your house to the ground. If you stand in the ashes and just shrug and say, well, it was fate, isn't that a sign of complete cultural defeat? I see you're just saying. Like, why not just move away from the volcano? Is Minion's fatalism a surrender, or is it actually a survival mechanism? It is absolutely a survival mechanism and a highly evolved one. Really? Let's look at the psychology of your volcano analogy. If you believe that you have total control over your environment, if you believe that that human agency is supreme, then a disaster like the Coasey flood or a mass drowning will entirely shatter your worldview. Because it proves you were in control. Exactly. You will be paralyzed by the profound injustice of it. You will drive yourself mad asking, why me? Why my family? Yeah. But if you adopt a worldview of fatalism, if you accept that the river's wrath is preordained, that the cosmos has a plan that you cannot possibly comprehend or alter, then the trauma is categorized differently in your brain. So it removes the burden of the why? Precisely. It neutralizes the existential dread. It isn't that they don't feel the pain, Ruthia is clearly in agony. But fatalism provides a framework to process the unprocessable. Wow. It isn't a religious platitude. It is a psychological shield forged by centuries of living at the mercy of an under forgiving geography. It is the only way you can wake up the next morning. That makes a lot of sense. It's the belief system that allows Ruthia who eventually stop whaling. And it's the exact mechanism that allows communities to build a new boat and plant new seeds in the very mud that just drown their neighbors. They stay because it's their home. Yes, it is their land, their identity. And fatalism is the armor they wear to survive staying. That is fascinating. So the water displaces them physically and their philosophy is what allows them to survive that displacement mentally. Well put. But the anthology immediately pivots because right now there is a different kind of displacement happening and it has nothing do with water. Right. A modern displacement. It is the economic and educational displacement of the youth. The youth exodus. It is the defining demographic earthquake of modern India and the Paul. Because there just aren't enough opportunities in the villages. Exactly. The agrarian village economy simply cannot support the ambitions or the population of the rising generation. And the Macell youth are caught right in the center of this massive migration to the megacities. And the anthology captures this beautifully with two short stories by the writer Vanit Uthpaul. These stories perfectly encapsulate the modern urban struggle. Uthpaul is a very sharp observer of urban life. The first story is called Neman Tran, which means invitation. And honestly, it is a deeply cynical, heart-breaking look at how modern ambition destroys traditional relationships. Numan Tran is a brilliant exploration of the transactional nature of urban life. It asks what happens to loyalty when upward mobility becomes the ultimate goal. Let me walk you through it. The story follows a young couple, Sokshin, who is an aspiring journalist, and Nita, who is a talented Kathak dancer. The narrative spans across multiple cities. They move through Paritabad, Agra, and eventually Delhi. They meet, they fall deeply in love, and Sokshin makes massive life-altering sacrifices for her. Like what? Well, he gets into a minor dispute at his job, and he basically uses it as an excuse to just quit in anger so he can move to Delhi specifically to be closer to Nita. Oh wow. Yeah, he acts as her whole support system. He builds her website, he promotes her art, he's entirely devoted to her success. But then the turning point happens. Nita gets a prestigious scholarship to go to America. And the geographic distance immediately reveals the fragile nature of their bond. Instantly, the moment she crosses the ocean, the dynamic completely flips. She stops returning his calls with the same enthusiasm. The classic fade out. Right. Eventually she calls Sachin to deliver the final blow. She tells him that she is marrying someone else, an affluent man named Samarendra. And she coldly cuts ties with Sachin, essentially telling him that a life with him wouldn't align with her new trajectory. She makes a calculated, brutal choice. She looks at her life as a ledger, and she determines that Samarendra is a better asset for her new, upwardly mobile life in America than Sachin. Even though Sochi sacrificed everything for her. Right, she trades loyalty for ambition. And the story gets so incredibly dark from there. Sochi is completely devastated. In his heartbreak and his fury, he essentially curses her. He wishes ill upon her. That's intense. And shockingly, a little while later, Samuendra suddenly dies. Oh wow. I know. And what does Neeta do? She actually calls Sochi, not to apologize, but to blame him. She accuses him of killing her husband with his curse. So the relationship ends in just total toxicity. total toxic alienation. The story then jumps forward many years. Sajin has channeled all his pain into his career. He is now a highly successful top tier journalist. So he achieves his goal too. Yes. As the story ends, he is packing his bags to fly to New York to address the United Nations. Before he leaves, he receives an invitation, a Niman Tran to one of Nita's dance performances. And how does he react? He feels absolutely nothing. He just throws the invitation away and heads to the airport. Man, if we look at the sociological underpinnings of Navantran, it is a tragic thesis on the cost of modern success. Both Sachin and Nita actually achieve exactly what they set out to do professionally. Right. Nita makes it to America, Sachin makes it to the United Nations. They win the game of urban ambition. But the cost of that victory is the complete destruction of their traditional romantic loyalty. The city and the hyper-individualistic ambition it demands strips away their humanity and their connection to each other. They become successful, but they become entirely isolated. Exactly. They survived the city, but they lost their souls in the process. Now, Utpal's second story in the anthology deals with a very different kind of urban survival. Ah, yes. This story is titled Gory Par-Shar-Leb-Hum Degree, which I absolutely love. It roughly translates to, I'll take my degree riding on a horse. It's a fantastic title. Oh. Full of bravado. Right. And this story explores a struggle that millions of migrant students face, the crushing weight of parental expectations, and the intense linguistic gatekeeping of the capital city. A very real, very common story. The story centers on a character named Alak Babu. He's originally from Rhaepur. And his trajectory is a wild ride of failures and pivots. Because of his parents. Yeah, his parents, like so many middle-class parents in the region, view education purely as a financial investment. They pressure him relentlessly to pass the exams to become a chartered accountant, a CA. It is seen as a safe, prestigious, money-making path. But Olock isn't a numbers guy. He fails the exams, so his parents pivot and force him to study law. Also considered a safe bet. But he is miserable. To escape the suffocating pressure of his reality, he obsessively consumes cinema. And there's this one incredibly vivid detail in the text that tells you everything you need to know about Olock. Oh, the Rotor Act club speech. Yes. Before he moves away, he delivers this captivating all-night speech at a local Rotorack Club meeting. He holds the entire room spellbound as he tells a story from his childhood. It's a great scene. He talks about having an incredibly strict father and how he once meticulously stole exactly three and a half rupees from his grandfather's wallet just so he could sneak out and buy a ticket to watch a Bollywood movie called Jung Buzz starring Govinda. That details, stealing exactly three and a half rupees for a movie ticket is brilliant writing. It perfectly highlights the innocence of his small town past against the brutal pressure cooker environment he's about to enter in Delhi. Because Delhi is a completely different world. Right. And it also establishes who a lock really is. He isn't a corporate drone. He's a natural storyteller. He's a creative soul being forced into rigid corporate boxes by his parents' anxieties. And then the pressure cooker really amps up. He finally escapes the law degree and convinces his family to let him move to Delhi to study journalism. Specifically to Beresaray. Yes, he moves to a neighborhood called Beresaray. For our listeners who don't know Delhi, Beresaray is legendary. It is basically a dense, chaotic hub packed with thousands of migrant students living in knee-crampt rooms. All cramming for competitive exams, all desperate to secure a future. Exactly. So Alok applies to study journalism at the prestigious Haretia Vidyabhafan. But here's where he hits a massive wall. Alok is terrified of the English language. This is a profound and widespread phenomenon. He's a fluent Hindi and Mathili speaker, but in the corridors of power in Delhi, English is the ultimate gatekeeper. He views the polished English-speaking Delhi crowd with a mix of absolute awe and sheer terror. Yeah. where everyone else seems to know the rules and you realize the referee keeps changing the rules just to make sure you lose. That's exactly how it feels. That's what Ollock feels like. It's a massive linguistic imposter syndrome. He assumes that because he doesn't speak grammatically perfect English he fundamentally cannot compete in the capital. It's a huge barrier. He goes to take the journalism entrance exam, which is conducted in English. He walks out of the exam hall completely defeated, absolutely convinced he has failed. He tells his friend, I just don't know the English these deli people speak. And his friend's response is one of the most honest assessments of urban posturing you will ever hear. Yes. His friend laughs and tells him a secret. He says, listen, most of the people in deli actually speak terrible, grammatically incorrect English, but they speak it with so much confidence and arrogance that it intimidates people like us from the villages. It's all a bluff. It's all a bluff, and the proof comes when the results are posted. A look almost doesn't even go to check the board because he's so embarrassed. But shockingly, he hasn't just passed the exam, he has crushed it. He does incredibly well. He ranks fifth overall in the entire institution. Which proves that his fundamental communication skills, his ability to actually observe the world and tell a compelling story, just like he did at the Rotorack Club with the three and a half rupees, those skills transcend his grammatical insecurities. The story ends by beautifully capturing the gritty, exhausted reality of his survival in Delhi. He lives on late night study sessions, drinking endless little cups of cheap tea, and surviving on greasy bread pakoras from a local street vendor named Sharmaji. It's the quintessential migrant student hustle. But I want to ask you about the broader implications of Alec's struggle. English was weaponized against him to make him feel inferior. Does the language of our education dictate the limits of our ambition? Because Alec almost gave up entirely. He was very close to quitting. Is his ultimate success proof that raw talent and street smarts can punch through that linguistic barrier? Or is he just a lucky exception? That is the core tension of the post-colonial migrant experience. The language of the metropolis, in this case, English acts as a deliberate gatekeeper. Right? It is designed to keep people like Alec out to preserve the elite status of those who grew up in English medium schools. Alec's fear is entirely justified by the systemic biases he faces. It's a rigged game. His story argues that while language dictates the terms of the strudel, it doesn't have to dictate the limit of the ambition. He weaponizes his street smarts and his innate storytelling ability to bypass the gatekeepers. He beats them at their own game? He does. But we must acknowledge the immense psychological toll this takes. The Linguistic Imposter Syndrome forces students from regional backgrounds to expend massive amounts of emotional energy just to prove they belong in the room. in the room. Energy that privileged students can spend entirely on their studies. Exactly. So they basically have to run twice as fast just to stay at the starting line. We've seen the raw working-class realities of the modern writers. We've explored the geographical trauma of the cozy floods. We've followed the youth like Alec Babu battling the linguistic gatekeepers of Delhi. It's a lot of struggle. But to really understand how Mathili literature got to a point where young people could write these modern stories, we need to look back. need to look at the foundations, the giants whose shoulders Safi and Udhpala are standing on. Yes. The anthology provides a crucial historical anchor. It includes an incredibly detailed interview with one of the absolute legends of Mathili literature, Meenan Misra. This interview was conducted by Vanit Udhpala back in 2004 on the occasion of Misra winning the prestigious Proboed Saman Award. And as you read through Misra's life story, it reads like a living history book of the a mathilly language itself throughout the 20th century. His biography perfectly encapsulates all the major themes we've been discussing today. He was born in the early 1930s. And what is the defining event of his childhood? Let me guess, the river. In 1940, in 1941, his family is completely displaced by the cozy flood. The unforgiving river strikes again. The physical geography forces his family out of their home, displacing them to a place called Govindpur. And around this same time, he suffers a profound personal tragedy. He loses his mother. And out of that trauma and displacement, he turns to writing to process his grief. His very first works, written around 1945, were devotional songs. Right, very traditional. He was writing deeply localized religious music, but then his literary evolution takes a really fascinating turn. He doesn't stay in the realm of devotional music. In 1951, he writes a piece called Bongak Lota, and it isn't a tragedy, it's a famous comedy. And comedy, as we discussed the Patnevac anecdote earlier, is often a crucial step in a culture's literary maturation. Oh, so? It allows the society to critique its own flaws and absurdities safely. You do it through the lens of humor without inviting direct political retaliation. But Mishra doesn't stop at comedy either. As he matures and as India moves through the 50s and 60s, his writing shifts again. He gets much more complex. He moves into deep, serious, psychological, and highly experimental poetry and prose. The interview mentions monumental works like Agmo Am A. Pithar, which translates to fire, wax and stone, and another work called Deschanteur. These are heavy pieces. He starts writing complex, challenging narratives about existential dread, social struggle, and human psychology. What is truly fascinating here is how Mishra's personal literary evolution mirrors the evolution of the Mathery language's status on the national stage. Oh, that's an interesting parallel. moves from the localized religious sphere devotional songs sung in village courtyards to light entertainment and comedy, and finally into a robust, muscular, modern literary form capable of grappling with the most complex psychological themes of the 20th century. I look at Maine and Mishra's career trajectory, you know, moving from simple devotional songs to heavy experimental psychological poetry, and I have to ask, is that progression a requirement? What do you mean? Like, does a regional language have to prove it can do the heavy, depressing, psychological lifting in order to be taken seriously by the national establishment? Like, the Beatles going from pop to state pepper, can't a language just be respected for its comedy and its folk songs? It's a great question. And the unfortunate reality of literary institutions is that, yes, they demand a certain type of gravitas before they confer recognition. They want the serious stuff. Right. A language must demonstrate that it is an intellectual vehicle capable of holding the full spectrum of the human experience. Folk songs and comedy are often dismissed by national academies as provincial or quaint. That's a shame, but I get it. To be recognized alongside towering languages like Hindi or Bengali, Mithili had to prove it could articulate tragedy, complexity, and modern alienation. Meina and Mishra, through sheer force of intellect, proved that Mithili could do exactly that. And he didn't just prove it on the page, he fought for it in the halls of power. Misra didn't just write in isolation. He actively advocated for his language. He was a major political force. He associated with titans of Indian literature, massive figures like Phanashwaranath Reynu and Ramdari Singh Dinkar. And he was instrumental in a monumental political victory, getting Mitheli officially recognized by the Sahitya Academy. Which is huge for our global listeners. The Sahitya Academy is India's national academy of letters. It is the highest literary authority in the country. Getting a language recognized by them isn't just a symbolic trophy. It unlocks funding. It allows the language to be taught in universities. It preserves it for the future. The interview notes that this recognition was heavily influenced by a direct meeting Mishra and his contemporaries had with Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru. That's right. He took the fight from the flooded villages of Bihar directly to the Prime Minister of India. And his ultimate belief, stated at the end of the interview, is simple but incredibly profound. He says the Bhati will always remain. Vijapati being of course the iconic 14th century Mithili poet whose work forms the bedrock of their culture. Right. Mishra believed that if they fought for the language, its roots were deep enough to survive any modern storm. Mishra represents a generation that carried the weight of a culture on their backs. They fought to legitimize the language institutionally. By securing that recognition from the Sathya Akademi, they built the foundation that allows the current generation writers like Safi and Utpal to write their raw modern stories about bicycle shops and deli cyber cafes without constantly having to justify the very existence of the language itself. But as we move into the final segment of our deep dive, we see that the battle for the Mithili language is far from over. It hasn't ended, it has just shifted arenas. Exactly. We're moving from the preservation of language in the pages of literature to the weaponization of language on the international political stage. This brings us to the Kathmandu controversy. This is arguably the most explosive and revealing piece of source material in the entire anthology. It shows us what happens when language, identity and state power collide in real time. It really does. This section is a journalistic report written by Sujit Kumarja. It details a highly publicized incident involving the president of Nepal at the time, Dr. Ram Buranyadav. And here is the crucial context for that. Yeah please. Dr. Yadav is a native Methil. He was born into the culture. Methili is his mother tongue. Okay, so he's one of them. Yes. And he is invited to attend the International Methili Conference, which is being held in Kathmandu, the capital of Nepal. The entire stage is set specifically to celebrate and promote the Methili language. Right. The scenario we talked about in the intro. So Dr. Yadav walks up to the podium. He looks out at an audience of his own people and he chooses to deliver his entire speech in Nepali. The official state language. Yes. And the reaction from the Mathill community was immediate, visceral and furious. Furious feels like an understatement. The report cites over 40 angry Facebook posts from community members that flooded the internet instantly. Critics were absolutely livid. They felt he hadn't just made a scheduling error. They felt he had actively abandoned his roots for political safety. And it wasn't just the words he spoke either. No, it was what he was wearing. The critics pointed out that upon becoming president, Dr. Yadav swapped his traditional Mayfield attire, the Doti Kruta, which is historically associated with the Mayfield people of the Parai Plains, for the official Nepali national dress, the Darasurul. Which is historically associated with the hill elites of Nepal. Right, even at a conference dedicated to his own culture, they noted bitterly he wouldn't take off the Nepali hat. The visual symbolism of the clothing change deeply compounded the linguistic choice. In the volatile ethnic politics of Nepal, where the Pterite Plains communities have historically felt marginalized by the hill-centric government in Kathmandu, the duty kuta versus the door sewer wall isn't just about fashion. It's a political statement. It's about allegiance. To the audience, his choice of dress and language was perceived as a total shedding of his ethnic identity in favor of a homogenized, state-approved national identity. The article makes this really sharp, biting contrast to drive the point home. It points out that when US President Barack Obama visited India, he made a deliberate effort to speak a few words of Hindi to win the hearts of the people. Right. Diplomacy 101. The article asks, If an American president can speak Hindi to show respect, Why couldn't a native Mathille president bring himself to speak Mathilly at a Mathilly conference? It's a potent question. But I have to stop here and ask you a skeptical question. Because looking at this from the outside, I don't entirely get the anger. Okay, lay it on me. If you were the president of an entire nation, doesn't your job description fundamentally change? Dr. Yadav represents all of Nepal, a country with dozens of different ethnic groups and languages. If he goes to a conference and speaks his specific regional dialect, doesn't that alienate the rest of the country? I see where you're going. Isn't speaking Nepali just standard protocol for the head of state? Why is following basic state protocol seen as a profound betrayal? That is exactly the defense that his political allies would use, and it is a completely valid perspective from the viewpoint of statecraft. As president, he is the symbol of national unity. Speaking the official language, wearing the official dress, is a calculated move to project cohesion and demonstrate that he is not playing favorites with his own ethnic group. Right, that makes sense. However, we have to look at this impartially and understand the mechanics of minority erasure. For a dominant group, standard protocol feels like unity. For a marginalized group, standard protocol often feels like forced assimilation. Okay, unpack that for me. How does protocol become assimilation? Think about the venue. It wasn't a general address to the nation. It was the International Mythility Conference. The context matters. To bring in the final piece of source material from our anthology, which adds immense academic weight to their anger. The text cites Article 2 of the UNESCO Convention. What does the convention say? This convention defines intangible cultural heritage as the practices, expressions, knowledge, and skills transmitted across generations that provide a community with a sense of identity and continuity. Okay. Language is the ultimate primary vehicle for intangible cultural heritage. If a language is not spoken in the public sphere, if it is relegated only to the private home, it begins to die. It loses its power. So when the president, the most powerful Mayfield person in the country, chose not to speak the language at a conference specifically dedicated to its survival, the audience felt he was validating the state's historical marginalization of their culture. So to them, it wasn't just protocol. No. To them, he was actively participating in the erasure of their heritage on the very stagement to celebrate it. It's like the concept of the costume of the soul. He's standing up there wearing the physical national costume of the state, the dora sura wall. But the audience feels that by refusing to speak the language, he has entirely stripped off the linguistic costume of his soul. That's a beautiful way to put it. So looking at this incredibly tense situation, at what point does necessary political assimilation cross the line and become cultural erasure? Is it actually possible to reach the highest levels of national or international power without leaving your mother tongue, your specific identity at the door? That is the ultimate crucible of modern minority politics all over the world, not just in Nepal. There is no easy mathematical answer. The line between assimilation and erasure is entirely subjective, and it depends entirely on where you are standing. For the state, assimilation is a necessary tool for survival and cohesion. A fractured state is a weak state. True. But for the minority community, assimilation is a slow death. It is the gradual fading of their unique voice into the background noise of the majority. The intense fiery reaction to the president's speech in Kathmandu shows that for the Mothill community, their language is not just a tool for asking for directions or buying groceries. It's much deeper than that. It is the very bedrock of their political, historical, and cultural existence. To lose the language in the public sphere is to lose their visibility as a people. Which brings us full circle. We have been on an immense journey today through the pages of Vedea Sadeha 35. We truly have. We have seen the full, vibrant, and sometimes painful spectrum of a culture in in perpetual motion. We started by looking at the raw, unvarnished truth of modern Maitreya identity. We saw young writers like Safi completely rejecting the sanitized elite histories of the past, choosing instead to write honestly about the struggles of washing clothes and running bicycle shops, democratizing the literature in the process. Unnecessary reckoning. Then we unpacked the terrifying geographical reality of the Kosy River and the profound necessary fatalism that allows a community to survive mass drownings and find the strength to rebuild their lives in the mud. A literal survival mechanism. We followed the youth exodus, watching students like Alak Babu flee to the cramped rooms of Delhi, battling the linguistic imposter syndrome of the English language, and sacrificing their traditional notions of romance for the cold demands of urban ambition. The modern struggle. We also looked backward, honoring the immense foundational work of giants like Meynan Mishra, who lived through those devastating floods evolved the language from village comedy to serious experimental poetry and fought the political battles necessary to get Mythily recognized by the National Academy. Giving the next generation a platform. And finally, we saw how all of that history, all of that trauma and all of that passion boils over onto the modern political stage in Kathmandu. We saw how the simple choice between speaking Nepali or speaking Mythily at a podium becomes a fiery, existential debate about the survival of the culture itself. It is a complex, deeply beautiful, and incredibly resilient cultural landscape. They're the people who refuse to be quietly washed away by the river or by the state. They truly are. And I want to leave you the listener with one final provocative thought to mull over. It connects back to that UNESCO definition of intangible heritage we just talked about. Right. The document explicitly states that heritage isn't a static museum piece. It is something that is constantly recreated by communities in response to their environment and their history. It has to adapt. Exactly. Perhaps the survival of the Methili identity or any regional identity facing the crush of globalization isn't about freezing it in the past. It's not just about staying in the village, wearing the traditional clothes, and speaking the absolute curest, oldest form of the language. Because that's not living. Right. If a culture can adapt to the chaotic cyber cafes and the brutal competitive exams of Delhi, If it can produce raw, working-class autobiographies that challenge the patriarchy, and if it has the political energy to force fiery debates on the international stages of Kathmandu, maybe the true test of a language isn't its historical purity. Maybe the true test is its elasticity. Can it stretch without breaking? Can a culture bend to the neon lights, the concrete and the English demands of the modern world without breaking its deep ancient ties to the soil? As you imagine standing on that bridge between the ancient village and the globalized city, maybe the answer isn't that you have to choose just one side. Maybe the language itself constantly evolving, constantly fighting is the bridge. That's a powerful thought. Thank you for joining us on this deep dive into the fascinating turbulent world of the the Mephili cultural landscape. Keep questioning the world around you, keep learning, and we'll catch you next time.

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