Tamil Pride

If someone tells me to talk in Hindi, I won’t. If someone tries to talk to me in Hindi, I tell them that I don’t understand. I don’t use Hindi unless I choose to. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.

My Tamil pride developed slowly. For a lot of people, it’s inbuilt as they grow up. I came into it later, when my friend told me to say my ‘r’s more like a Tamilan (since I had trouble pronouncing the Tamil ‘r’ and ‘zh.’) That led to the development of pride in my language. It grew more when I read a book called The Dig, which was about the Keeladi excavations around the Vaigai River. This archeological site is believed to be older than the height of the Roman Empire. (When the Roman Empire emerged around 27 BCE, Keeladi was already thriving).

Now, for those of you non Indian readers, here’s some context. India has 22 national languages (last I checked). Hindi is the official language of the union government. I’m Tamil, which is one of the 22 scheduled languages, with a literary history that stretches back thousands of years.

Now, moving on. Tamil is one of the oldest classical languages in the world, with a rich literary tradition that includes ancient poetry, epics, philosophical works, and texts that continue to influence how people understand the world today. We have the Thirukkural, one of the most celebrated collections of ethical couplets; the Silappatikaram, an epic that explores justice, love, and the consequences of power; and the Sangam literary tradition, which gives us glimpses into the lives, emotions, politics, and societies of people who lived centuries ago. It’s even older than Hindi and was the first Indian language to be declared ‘classical.’

Tamil identity extends far beyond literature. It lives in the celebration of Pongal, in the kolams drawn outside our homes, in the pride surrounding Jallikattu, and in our music, cinema, food, and traditions. It lives in the language our families speak, and the stories passed down through generations. These are not just cultural markers; they are part of what makes Tamil identity feel alive. Being Tamil is not simply about speaking a language. It is about belonging to a culture with its own history, traditions, and sense of community.

Hindi has its own literature, poetry, cinema, music, and cultural history, and I have no reason to deny any of that. My problem begins when people assume that because Hindi is widely spoken, it must somehow be superior to the other languages of India. My problem begins when people assume that every Indian must know Hindi, regardless of where they come from, what language they grew up speaking, or what linguistic traditions they belong to.

People just assume I know Hindi. When I tell them I don’t, the reactions can be interesting. Sometimes there’s surprise, sometimes there’s disbelief, and sometimes there’s a look that makes me feel as though I’ve failed some basic test of being Indian. It’s as though knowing Hindi is an essential part of my identity, and not knowing it makes me less Indian than the person standing in front of me.

But why is Hindi treated as the default? Why is it that, in a country with so many languages and cultures, knowing Hindi is often considered a given?

Tamil is a living language, constantly evolving while remaining deeply connected to its history.

So, what does Hindi have that Tamil doesn’t?

More speakers in certain parts of India? Greater visibility in national media? More political prominence? These things might give a language wider reach, but they do not make it superior. Hindi has its own rich literary and cultural traditions, and it deserves to be celebrated. But so does Tamil. One language does not need to be diminished for another to be valued.

Tamil pride is not about claiming that Tamil is better than every other language. It is about refusing to accept that it is somehow lesser. It is about recognising that Tamil identity is as Indian as any other, and that speaking Hindi should not be a requirement for belonging to this country.

India’s strength lies in its diversity. We should be able to learn one another’s languages out of curiosity and a desire to connect, not because we believe one language deserves precedence over the rest.

Tamil does not need Hindi to validate its worth. Its literature, history, and people speak for themselves. Tamil doesn’t need to prove itself to deserve respect.