Miles Bronson, the American Baptist Missionary, published a rudimentary
Assamese dictionary way back in 1867. It took another 33 years for Hemchandra
Baruah to compile and publish the first
comprehensive etymological Assamese Dictionary called “Hemkosh” in 1900. That was a far-fetched accomplishment of Late
Hemchandra to collect and compile total 22346 words ( as per Wikipedia) to put the tentative Assamese Language on a firm footing, long
subdued and battered by the aggressive incursion of Bengali in Assam as its official
language.
While compiling the dictionary, Hemchandra was to include some of the
common Assamese abuses. One particular fish selling lady was renowned for her
caustic tongue and she yelled at anyone who perturbed her temper with the
choicest collections from her armoury. So, Hemchandra went straight to the
lady, played a few tricks to see her go off and came back with a rich harvest for "Hemkosh".
Near our childhood home, people of a particular ward were equally
infamous for abusing words. Particularly, their women folk could quarrel for
any trivial issues. After sometime, the issue for which the fight commenced
became irrelevant to them and they kept on shouting at each other as if
reciting the holy Mantras. It seemed,
this was a way to vent off the hardship and agonies which they endured throughout
the time they existed as living beings.
One of the reasons for our father to move out from his parental house was
to insulate us-the children, from such nearby environment. We didn’t pick up
any dirt either and even today, I am too conservative even with close friends
to get involved in any loose talks. Perhaps, it was the good upbringing at our
home that helped all the brothers and sisters to become good mannered, to excel
to some extent in studies and above all learnt the virtues of trying to remain
honest in life. We were made to study in candle light and kerosene lamps as the
electricity connection to our home got delayed by more than 6 months for my
father’s refusal to pay bribe to the state electricity board. Whenever, our
skin touched the hot glass surface of the lamp, it burnt off the skin and I ,
particularly, had many such prized round marks all over my body and more at the
two arms. At times, my parents’ daily sermons at the dinner table irked us, but
today, do realize how priceless and practical those words were.
I was sipping hot tea, basking in the late afternoon Sunday sun at
Durgapur. Suddenly the heated arguments of two shopkeeper gentlemen got
transformed into an extravaganza of verbal overdose. In those days, I was
trying to familiarize with the Bengali language and thought it was no harm to
get used to some less civilized words. Though, I had no intention to compile
another Bengali Dictionary, I kept on hearing them while finishing my tea and
the Cigarette. ( I left smoking years ago and left it for good instantly one
day unlike Mark Twain, who left smoking hundreds of time). As I murmured the
words silently in my mind without knowing the proper meaning, suddenly I found the
foul words to be extremely powerful and
rhythmic, but never thought that
someday, I would be using them myself !
That evening, I was returning late to Assam Bhavan, at Kolkatta’s Russel Street after
attending a party with friends. As, Russel Street was close by, I thought, I
would rather walk to assist my
intestine to deal better with the food I had. On my way after some
distance , one seemingly innocuous person approached me with a strange offer.
He was a pimp and seeing me, might have thought to be his prospective client.
I vehemently rejected his offer and walked along. Hardly few steps ahead,
another man blocked my way and I knew both of them were partners in the world’s
oldest profession and knew each other. That moment, I really panicked as there
was no one nearby to seek help. The two gentlemen grew bolder and one of them
held my shoulder from behind.
“Where are you going so fast, Dada “ He smiled and I must tell you that
was the ugliest smile ever I had seen at
someone’s face. He knew, I was a stranger to the City of Joy.
Out of fear, I sternly removed his hand and unknowingly shouted with the same words( I am still
not aware what those words exactly mean) heard in that Sunday afternoon at
Durgapur, but volleyed them with such ferocity, it fizzled the confidence of
the two seasoned professionals and made them retreat as I hurried off to the
safety of Assam Bhavan.
That was the last time, I used such horrendous words at someone. But
those words saved the night of embarrassment for me.
