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I have decided to apply to the government of Maharashtra for a language disability allowance. They can take some of the money from Raj Thackeray and members of this party.

This is a special allowance that needs to be made for people like me who are severely challenged when it comes to learning languages. For instance, I am a Bengali by birth but I am sadly inadequate with my mother tongue.

That is, I can just about speak it but I can neither read nor write it. Gasp, shock, horror, whatever, fact. Every relative I have has expressed the mandatory outrage. You cannot outdo them.

I blame my parents and they blame themselves and so the circle goes on. Fact is, I spent my formative years when such languages are taught to children between several places — including Mumbai — and not all were conducive to learning Bengali, especially if the parents are young and lazy.

But I cannot really blame them because for the rest of my life, I’ve made no attempt to learn Bengali either. There was no compulsory third language when I was in school, so it was left to several Hindi teachers to bear the brunt of my bumblings in that language and to decide whether to give me 39 out of 100 every time or to occasionally make it 42 so that I could barely pass with some dignity.

Yes, I know rashtra bhasha. Shocking. So shoot me. Sue me. Have a field day. On my good days, I can outdo Zeenat Aman in Shalimar and that’s saying something. The upshot is that I can make a fool of myself and drive people crazy in the following languages: English, Hindi, Bengali, Gujarati and Marathi.

I once studied French in school but the only time I went to France, I spoke like Peter Sellers’ Inspector Clouseau in the Pink Panther series. I could not help it and the French were not amused.

I cannot speak at all in Delhi because I cannot understand one word of that language they speak over there.

You get the point. I don’t do languages. English is all I have — and you can make your own judgments about that. Do your worst. I am specially abled and I need to be compensated for my challenged state. Just don’t send me the receipt in Bengali, Hindi, Marathi, Gujarati…

Pick of the week: Now that children have taken to having hysterics when they are rejected on reality shows and one poor young man almost drowned for trying for another, let’s have a show where the parents of talented children are shouted at by counsellors, doctors, members of the audience for being such damn greedy fools for entering their children into such reality shows in the first place. ‘Kya aap ko bachhon se zyaada akal hai’ can be the name of it. (See what I mean about languages?)
b_ranjona@dnaindia.net