When Language Plays Hide and Seek

I’ve been living in Gujarat for about seven months now. New city, new rhythm, new everything. The only thing that hasn’t quite caught up with the change is my Hindi.

I know a few words. Very, very few.

Enough to survive. Not enough to understand panic.

The Evening at the Play Area

One evening, I took my daughter down to the play area in our apartment. The usual scene—kids running around, laughter echoing, parents standing in small groups, half-watching, half-unwinding.

I was standing right in the middle of the play area, keeping an eye on my daughter, when one little boy suddenly started running towards me.

As he ran, he kept shouting: Aunty, “ maar raha hai!”

He ran past me. Came back again. And again.

Every single time, the same line: Aunty, “ maar raha hai!”

Me vs My Very Limited Hindi

Now, with my limited Hindi knowledge, my brain immediately translated this into something like: Aunty, move… you’re blocking us…

So I did what any polite, slightly confused adult would do.

I moved.

I stepped aside to give him space.

But wherever I went, he followed—still running, still pointing, still shouting: Aunty, “ maar raha hai!”

Slowly, I kept moving… until there was nowhere left to go.

I was finally stuck in a corner, leaning against the wall.

And yes—he still came running. Still shouting.

At that point, my thoughts were racing: Where exactly am I supposed to move now?

Calling the Language Expert

Totally confused, I turned to the most reliable translator I had with me—my daughter.

I gently asked her what the boy was saying. She said in Tamil: “Adikiranganu soluran ma.”

(They are hitting me)

The Realisation

And just like that, everything made sense.

The boy wasn’t asking me to move. He was complaining. About someone else. And seeking shelter.

I burst out laughing right there in the play area—at myself, at the situation, and at how confidently wrong I had been.

Seven Months In

That moment perfectly summed up my language journey so far.

Seven months in a new state. A handful of words learned. Endless situations misunderstood.

But also—moments like these that make the transition lighter, funnier, and oddly memorable.

Maybe fluency will come slowly. Maybe embarrassment will come first.

Either way, I’m learning—one confused sentence at a time.

And honestly?

I wouldn’t trade these stories for perfect Hindi.

Have you ever misunderstood a language so badly that it turned into a story you’ll never forget?

Comments

June 15: The Day I Buried My Mother and Met My Daughter

Eleven years ago, on this very day, our family grieved all over again. My mother passed away on May 8, 2015. While the initial rituals were completed within a few days, one final responsibility remained. Since she had been cremated, we decided to take her ashes to our ancestral graveyard, where my great-grandparents and grandparents were buried. On June 15, 2015, we laid her ashes to rest. Along with them went her favorite sarees, her notebook, the pen she always carried, and several belongings that had been a part of her daily life. As we buried those ashes, it felt as though we were saying goodbye to her all over again. Her ashes were the last tangible reminder we had of her, and letting go was not easy. Six years later, in 2021, I was pregnant with my daughter. My due date was June 7, 2021, but God had a different plan. Days passed, and there were no signs of labor. We waited and waited. By June 13, I had crossed 40 weeks, and labor was induced without much success. On the night of ...

FRIENDSHIP

25-March-2010 We all have friends at all stages of our lives. But how many of us keep in touch with them forever??? I always wondered why 99% of friendships break at every stage. I was very close with one of my friends in the 5th class. We used to say we’d never be separated. But now, I don’t even know where she is… Then came my 10th-class friend. We were like flesh and nail—we wore the same dress, ate together, and hung out everywhere. But now she is far away from me. We talk only twice a year—once on her birthday and once on mine. And then, my college friends. Not just one, but 13 of them. Very close to me. We ruled the class! Everyone was jealous of our friendship. But how long would it last??? It was nice to hear my friends say that we’d meet once a year and have fun. But practically… is it possible? Friendship is like a train. It starts at the source station and ends at the destination. It stops at every station along the way. Friends are like passengers—they board the train of fr...

Tomorrow, My Morning Coffee Will Taste Different

It’s been three weeks since we moved to Vadodara. Every morning since, I’ve unknowingly built a quiet ritual—coffee in hand, eyes on the sky, watching planes take off from Vadodara Airport, which I can see clearly from our balcony. There's something calming about it. Hopeful, even. A small moment of stillness as the world begins to move. But today… today was not like the other days. Around noon, news broke about the Air India crash at Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel Airport, Ahmedabad. And everything I felt in those quiet, breezy mornings shattered into something heavier, more fragile. It’s strange how suddenly a routine can take on new meaning and how quickly something comforting can start to feel ominous. My husband used to be a frequent flyer to Ahmedabad in the months before we settled down here. I was right there at that same airport with my dad and daughter, barely three weeks ago. I still remember my first visit to Ahmedabad and I wasn’t particularly excited. It felt temporary. ...

Maithily's Scribblings

Search This Blog