Speaking Silence: Is the Gujarati Mother Tongue Fading in the Age of English?

Krupalee Bhatt | 18th August 2025

“ જ્યાં જ્યાં વસે એક ગુજરાતી, ત્યાં ત્યાં સદાકાળ ગુજરાત”
(Wherever a Gujarati lives, there is always Gujarat)

When a child is born, the first word they utter becomes their mother tongue. In human society, language holds a unique and irreplaceable place. It is through language that we express ourselves, connect with others, and build communities. The growth of society itself is shaped by language — and the study of any language is a fascinating journey.

There is an old saying: Never forget your mother, your mother tongue, or your motherland. But how much of this do we carry in our hearts today?

When was the last time you spoke an entire sentence in Gujarati — without slipping in a single English word?
When was the last time you used an authentic Gujarati proverb or idiom?
Or wrote something, even a single page, entirely in Gujarati?

Languages are living, evolving entities. Their sounds, vocabulary, and meanings shift over time, shaped by the era we live in, the places we inhabit, and the societies we form. Yet one must wonder: if a language’s importance changes with time, how much of that is natural evolution — and how much is a quiet loss we fail to notice?

The Voice of a Custodian of Gujarati Literature

To explore this quiet loss, I spoke with the Niraj Meghani is the grandson of the renowned Gujarati poet, writer, and social reformer, Zaverchand Meghani, whose works remain jewels of Gujarati literature. He is the custodian of Gujarat’s only bookstore dedicated entirely to Gujarati works and runs the largest online archive of Gujarati writing across generations.

He spoke with a quiet mix of pride and concern:

“When we were in school back in the 1970s and 80s, we didn’t have the exposure or privileges children have today. I, of course, studied in a Gujarati-medium school — it was natural, especially because my family’s history is deeply rooted in culture and literature. I had complete access to Gujarati books and writings.

But then convent schools began to emerge, and a shift took place. We Gujarati-medium students started feeling ‘less than.’ We thought English-medium students were smarter, just because of the way they spoke. We didn’t understand it at the time, but deep inside, we still knew the power of our Gujarati language.

The sad reality is that even today, many people from my batch still struggle with English, yet they carry that old mindset — that English-medium students are automatically more intelligent. That’s why so many parents want to put their children in English-medium schools, and as a result, the ratio of English-medium students has risen far above Gujarati-medium ones.

I’ll admit — I, too, put my children in English-medium schools. But with experience, I now strongly recommend every parent to enroll their child in a Gujarati-medium school, in their mother tongue. My children have been learning four languages — English, Hindi, Gujarati, and now Sanskrit. But at such a young age, the mixing of languages has left them unable to speak Gujarati fluently.

Learning in one’s mother tongue builds a strong foundation — not just in language, but in culture, values, and identity. English can always be learned later; globalization has made it so accessible that the younger generation will pick it up easily anyway.

But here’s another truth: Gujaratis will never fight aggressively for our language. We love it, we are proud of it — but we are also practical. We have a business-oriented mindset. If we insist on speaking only Gujarati and reject other languages, it could hurt our opportunities.

Gujarati has a vast, beautiful body of literature. And even if the younger generation doesn’t read it deeply, they will still speak Gujarati at home, in their neighborhoods, within their communities. So, the importance of Gujarati will never vanish — but the importance of English is undeniably increasing.”

The concern he raises echoes what educationists have long warned: teaching a foreign language like English from the fifth standard, before the foundation of the mother tongue is strengthened, may meet short-term job requirements, but it violates the very principles of education. Worse, it risks creating generations who are fluent in neither language.

Survey Insights: What People Think?

To look beyond anecdotes, I surveyed 25 people — students, professionals, homemakers, and retirees. Their responses varied, but a common thread ran through them: for most, speaking Gujarati is not just a habit but an identity, cherished like a family treasure passed down generations.

Yet when the conversation shifts from pride to practicality, the tone changes. Many respondents, despite their devotion to Gujarati, admitted they would prefer English or bilingual education for their children. The reason was not a lack of love, but the reality of today’s world, where the corridors of power and opportunity often speak English.

Thus, Gujarati becomes the language of festivals, poetry, and home, while English becomes the passport to professional opportunity.

The prejudice that English-medium students are “smarter” is slowly fading. Most respondents insisted that talent blooms in every language. Yet they also acknowledged that English can open certain doors faster, especially in urban, career-driven environments. This nudges even the most loyal Gujarati speakers toward bilingual schooling — a compromise between culture and career.

On whether Gujarati is fading, opinions split. Some fear its edges are fraying under the hum of English in schools, media, and social life. Others believe its roots remain strong, as long as it is spoken at home, celebrated in stories, and woven into daily life.

When asked how to strengthen it, people suggested:

• speaking Gujarati with pride,
• integrating it more firmly into education,
• showcasing it in media, and
• dismantling the myth that English alone equals progress.

One truth emerged: Gujarati is not vanishing, but it is at a crossroads. Its future depends less on policy and more on the choices we make daily — in our greetings, our jokes, our lullabies, and the dreams we pass on.

Just as a child has the right to a mother’s milk, it is said that the foundation of one’s mother tongue must come first. Most citizens gain their knowledge of the world through their mother tongue, and most exchange their experiences through it.

If this foundation is weak, and if children are tempted away too early by a foreign language — one that most will never use fully — then it is not just an educational mistake but a national loss. Houses are not built on weak foundations; and the builder who attempts it is called a fool, or worse, a criminal. What, then, will future generations call those who attempt to build education on such shaky ground?

The sad irony is that I am writing about this issue of my mother tongue in English — a reflection of the very crossroads we face. Gujarati is alive, but speaking more softly than ever. Its survival now depends not on nostalgia, but on the courage to choose it in everyday life.

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Krupalee Bhatt is a media researcher with a keen interest in language, culture, and identity. Her work explores how media and education shape societal values and communication practices.