I usually think in English.
Naturally, our thought process is in our mother tongue. So how and when did I befriend this language, English? There’s history, errrrr… story behind it.
When I was in schools, I wanted to improve my English Communication. I always received good comments on my written English skills. I was not very confident about my spoken English. I read somewhere that to learn to speak well in any language, you should think in that language. So I worked very hard and programmed myself to do that.
However, I would be caught for words and often stammer when it came to talking. The “Communication Skill” class in 6th semester of Engineering was a nightmare for me. Whenever I had to present something, my mouth would go dry, my palms would become sweaty, my heart would start to beat in my ear and in my throat.
I still do get nervous, sometimes.
I am still a long way from being a good speaker. I’ve taken the initial steps to begin the journey.
Now, the flip side of story. I often struggle to convey my thoughts properly in English. I blame my limited vocabulary for that. Or maybe some thoughts are better expressed in one langauge than the other.
All said and done, there are times when I feel drawn towards my mother tongue. I want to read, write, and talk only in Urdu. Nothing satisfies my literary taste buds but that. Then sometimes it is like I am good for neither language. Does it come from being bilingual? I get so freaking confused.
But then, when am I not confused.