Learning Arabic

I was in Bahrain in the second half of 2003 for 3 months and it was the best time of my life. Sure the roads look more agreeable on the eye as cars speed past over 100 kmph, there is opulence everywhere (even a public bus is air conditioned), there is a mix of Europeans, a US naval base, and it is as international as it gets.

The Arabs are a fabulous race; they define what hospitality is. You stop on the road and even ask a construction worker for a public phone and he will walk you to that place even if is a great deal of botheration or interruption to his work. Or you can drop your wallet on the road and it will most likely be returned to you. There is a kind of honesty and fairness about an Arab society that it will boggle the imagination of an insect-infected and corruption soaked India.

I fell in love with Bahrain so much (it happens to everyone for it is best country in Asia; it is more Europe than Asia) that believe it or not; I became a writer. I would be so excited that I would write 5 pages a day recording it. Everything held me in awe; the beauty of Persian woman (they looked more like pencil drawing and their skin texture so smooth that you can see the veins carrying blood .God, has not fared better in making women beautiful than in the GCC), the discipline and ethics at the office (it is a pleasure to work in such a civil society) and the close bonding of the Indian community. I loved jogging on the beach, I even loved the pigeons, or the "Bank of Bahrain" building or even the Chinese girls at the McDonalds. I even joined the bhajan chorus at the "Krishna mandir" on Sheikh Abdullah road or reading the Gulf Daily News.

Given a choice, I would have stayed in Bahrain forever, such was the attraction. It felt like iron fillings to a powerful magnet. The Arabs essentially are very decent people. It is not a talking race at all and they speak with a lot of deliberation. If an Indian visits abroad, he or she will notice one thing. You need to improve your listening dramatically and you need to brush up on speaking without excitement. I was there in Bahrain on a visit visa and my sponsors were working on a 2 year work permit; but it was the days of Bahrainization (a drive to give jobs to the nationals that they refused to get in more foreigners) and my application did not get through the Labour Ministry. So after a brief tryst with paradise I was back to the Coovam (the dirtiest and most polluted river in Madras. It is so full of industrial waste and dump that it is the metaphor of all that is worst).

Last month, a friend in KSA suggested that I learn Arabic if I wanted to get back to the region. It made a lot of imminent sense; it almost had a penetrative wisdom to it. I started to scout for Arabic tutors and settled on the first available one.

Sreekrishnan makes an immediate good impression. He is 27 years old, stands over 6 feet, he is lean and his eyes sparkle implying a razor sharp intellect. He is very fair for a typical Brahmin complexion, a small face, and a mouth that is more used to domination. He takes classes in his flat at Thiruvanmiyur; about 2 kms from my place. He was trained in CIEFL, Hyderabad and that adds to the credibility. He is an expert in two foreign languages; French and Arabic. I once asked him as to how long he has been at it and he said,” I started Arabic when I was 12 and French when I was 14″. Which means this linguist has already 15 years experience in Arabic and 13 in French. He speaks like a native in both these languages and I can bet my last money that he can audition for a TV anchor job in both Paris and Dubai. He works in a MNC during the day and in his spare time, takes these tuitions.

I have 3 classes a week; an hour each and I come up feeling more favourable disposed as to my teacher.

First, I requested him to teach me conversational Arabic; we prodded along. He would write the Arabic greetings on my diary and I would go home and get it internalized. Then I would be taught the names of 5 principal fruits, vegetables, beverages, 20 common words and within 4 classes, I had more than 60 word Arabic vocabulary. That is the "survival" words; you can go to a grocer and order your requirement. Sree will not proceed to the next lesson unless you have mastered the earlier class; he will quiz you and only when satisfied proceed ahead.

Then we reached the stage of learning the numerals and I was amazed at my own progress. Sreekrishnan too was impressed to see a 40 year who seemed to have an endless appetite for Arabic. But it did not come easy; Arabic words have no familiarity with any of the languages I know. I would come home and write these small scraps of paper and keep memorizing at every available time.

I tell him," My IQ is only 125 and so please go slow".

He smiles at the humour," Sathya you are doing brilliantly for a beginner". I say," Please keep complimenting me for I dread that I am will stop learning". This age business plagues me really. Look at the kids on sports quiz; their brain is lightning quick and they answer before the question is finished. My mind too was that quick, once upon a time. Now I even take a minute to recognize a favourite singer on the radio. The mind loses its sharpness with age; worry, depression, and constant failure can make it dull as a blunt knife or a guitar with an intonation problem.

Now came learning the alphabets and you won't believe that I had scribble those on every bit of strewn paper at home; behind telephone bill or even stray envelopes or even behind magazine covers if I found some space. Luckily I get a lot of junk mail and these have a lot of free space.

Within the first seven classes, I have mastered all the 28 alphabets; what remains is to gain mastery on different forms. In Arabic a letter takes 3 forms depending on where it appears ' either beginning or middle part or towards the end of the letter. I am so enthusiastic about my Arabic that I keep practicing it while waiting for an interview or on the bus or even at the gym. Or better still write the names of my friends in "Arabic".

Yesterday, Sree said," I want you to get this Jack Straw book before the next class".

We have a lot of fun in the class; I was asked to decipher words like “mosque”, “chair”, “pen", "book" and things like that in Arabic. There is an Arabic textbook ' used for native children in Saudi Arabia; this blooming book is for little children and full of pictures but not a word in English 'and so our conversation went like this:

Sreekrishnan: What letter is this?

Me: It looks like a snake and so it must be "Ha"

Then, what is this?

I say," It looks like a woman's breast; so definitely it is 'dal'"

Sree doesn't like this trivialization at all but he enjoys the humour. He remonstrates," Please don't mix English and Arabic though beginners usually have this association problem".

I smile and say," You missed out 'ra'; even you will agree that it looks like a comma".

He too joined in the fun,” Each time you see an arrow, it is ‘jim’”

I winded up,” Doesn’t ‘ya’ look like the letter ‘S’”.

Oh, what fun learning a language is? It is just taken me 20 days to reach this stage and Sree says," It is so nice to see someone so committed. But you could do with less humour".

I tell him as an elder," What is learnt in pleasure is learnt in full measure".

At this point in time when I only see dark clouds of betrayal, disappointments, and depressions; I have these Arabic classes. This is my sole bright point in the day. I go into the class with a heavy burden of the earth on my shoulders and after an hour I am back to my jovial best. Thank you Sreekrishnan!!!

So between a shape of a woman’s breast, an arrow, comma, a snake, and a letter ‘S’; I plod through my lessons. For a change, they don’t make my head dizzy as people around. I happily realize that learning is the best antitode to a mind sunk in depression.