Few people, even in England, have heard of Anthony Burgess. Those who have, know him primarily as a reviewer of books, rather than as a prolific writer who wrote over 40 novels, some of them absolutely terrific. He was, as someone said, the writer's writer and thus not for the masses. I prefer to think of him as a rare single malt. Every sentence he wrote can be savoured in the same way.
Burgess was also a linguist and once, referring to English, he said it was most alive and vibrant in India. He had very little time for what is known as standard English and once wrote a book called "English maid plane." But, I fear, even he would have despaired at what havoc we have managed to inflict on the language. That silly joke about Tushar Kanti Ghosh, the fiery editor and publisher of the Amrit Bazaar Patrika, telling an Englishman that since the poor Indians could not fight the Empire they would avenge themselves by ruining the language, has now worn thin. Indeed, it sounds fatuous.
For the simple fact is that after nearly three decades of running down a major asset, we are now left with its husk. Most Indians who went to college in the 1980s and after, don't know how to write a simple sentence without making a mistake. It doesn't matter what position they hold now: they write the most awful English. You can be charitable as Burgess was and say this is how a language remains alive. But surely, some simple rules must invariably be followed?
I can say all this with great authority because, as P V Narsasimha Rao used to say, only those who have worn the shoe know where it pinches. For the last year or so, I have had to edit a great deal and believe me, the articles
