In Mattur, election promises have to be made in Sanskrit

MANDATE 2004/ CAMPAIGN TRAIL

In this small village in Shimoga, watching political parties campaign is fascinating because everyone speaks the same language, literally. In Mattur and across the Tungabhadra river in Hosahalli, the whole village speaks Sanskrit, even in casual conversation.

So, when 14-year-old Jitendra Prasada plays cricket, he doesn't wear shorts or trousers. He plays in his veshti (or lungi as it is known in North India). Nor does he shout 'six' when he hits the ball especially hard. He yells 'shata' (six in Sanskrit). His mother insists that his sister Jayalakshmi talk to visitors in Sanskrit, "Vadantu," she insists.

About 300 years ago, this community of Sanketi Brahmins left the Kerala-Tamil Nadu border and made Mattur and Hosahalli its home. These are Brahmins ordained to teach and research Sanskrit.

Every household, every small child can speak grammatically-correct, pure Sanskrit. If you know the language, the villagers will be happy to engage you in a dialogue.

The Sanketi Brahmins had a scriptless language. On coming to Karnataka they taught themselves Kannada, but speaking in Sanskrit is a matter of preference.

The hundred or so families in Mattur have devoted themselves to studying the Vedas "" their meaning and the correct way of pronouncing the shlokas.

Across the river (which is really a small shallow canal), about 50 families study Gamaka "" a ritualised way of reciting the Mahabharata and the Ramayana, where one person recites the Sankrit version and another interprets it.

As the sun goes down on the Tungabhadra, the ritual of Sandhya Vandanam is performed en masse. Every night, families collect before the temple and their voices can be heard in the night chanting the Tyagaraj kritis in the purest of tones.

In Mattur, Sanskrit is taught not just to Brahmins but to all communities, because that is what the villagers are trained to do.

The village is particularly proud of Rummana, a ninth grade Muslim student in one of the village schools. Though an average student, she scored an aggregate of 70 per cent because she took Sanskrit as her main language and got 115 out of the 125 marks allotted to it.

Campaigning is interesting. Politicians are encouraged to make campaign speeches in Sanskrit and are gently corrected if they go wrong.

Not too many politicians have campaigned here as a result. As can be expected, the village is a Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS) stronghold.

Surprisingly, however, it is a relatively later development. Earlier, RSS pracharaks would come to the village, but were not particularly favoured.

What changed the attitude of the village towards them was the Emergency, when thousands of RSS workers in Karnataka were put in prison, including 30 men from this village.

"Since then, we conduct a morning and evening shakha. We have not suspended it even for a day," says a villager. The village has another dimension. Mattur has seen 20 of its young men moving abroad to work as software engineers. The locals say the internalisation of Sanskrit hones their mathematical skills as well. Two homes in the village have Internet connections.

Most villagers here own land, thus earning a livelihood is not difficult.

"I am not worried about Jayalakshmi. When she grows up and gets married, she may have to go to a family that doesn't speak Sanskrit. But she will teach them the language," says Jitendra's mother in half Sanskrit, half Hindi.