Bilal Bashir Bhat
Every year on International Mother Language Day, speeches are delivered about diversity, cultural pride, and the beauty of linguistic plurality. We are reminded that every language carries a civilization within it. Each one holds history, memory, emotion, and identity. Respect for all languages is essential. Yet respect must begin at home. The mother tongue deserves priority.
In Kashmir, the mother tongue is Kashmiri.
There is no shortage of seminars, literary forums, and cultural bodies that claim to safeguard Kashmiri. Their banners are impressive. Their slogans are emotional. Their social media posts are eloquent. But if one looks closely, an uncomfortable contradiction appears. Many of these same forums prefer to function in English, and sometimes in Urdu, while Kashmiri remains ceremonial. It is spoken for effect, not for substance.
Book launch events have become predictable rituals. The same faces release the books. The same circle delivers speeches. The same group sits in the front rows. At times they are on the stage. At other times they occupy the audience. After polite applause and customary photographs, the gathering dissolves into a tea session among familiar companions. Then comes the press release, carefully drafted, but rarely in Kashmiri. A book written in Kashmiri is celebrated, yet the news about it appears in English or Urdu. Not even a brief note in Kashmiri finds space in the public domain. What message does that send?
Language preservation cannot survive on symbolism. It requires lived practice. A language grows when it is used in administration, media, education, and daily communication. It thrives when children hear it in classrooms, when youth debate in it, when writers publish confidently in it, and when institutions treat it as a medium of thought rather than a decorative emblem.
The most serious gap lies in youth engagement. Young people are often absent from these literary gatherings. They are not invited meaningfully. They are not given platforms to speak, question, critique, or create. Without youth participation, no language movement can sustain itself. A language becomes fragile not because it lacks poets, but because it lacks young speakers who feel proud using it.
If Kashmiri is to flourish, the approach must change. Literary events must actively invite students from colleges and universities. Competitions, open mic sessions, digital storytelling workshops, and social media campaigns in Kashmiri should become routine. Press releases about Kashmiri books should first be written in Kashmiri. Cultural forums must practice what they preach. The language they claim to defend must be the language they consistently use.
International Mother Language Day should not be reduced to a ceremonial reminder. It should be a moment of honest introspection. Respect for every language is noble. But responsibility toward one’s own mother tongue is sacred. For Kashmir, that responsibility begins with restoring Kashmiri to the center of public life, not merely on stage, but in spirit and practice.
