The decision of the Union Government to confer the status of 'Classical Language' upon Marathi is a matter of immense pride and historic significance for the people of Maharashtra.
A struggle of many years has borne fruit, and the antiquity of Marathi has been recognised before the world. Yet this joy has been marred by the recently declared results of the Secondary School Certificate examination. The outcome has revealed a harsh and sobering reality: in the very state where Marathi is the mother tongue, the breath of its soil, as many as 94,000 students have failed in the subject. This is not merely a statistic; it is a stark indicator of Maharashtra's educational, cultural and social decline.
On paper, we enforce policies to make Marathi compulsory, while in practice, we witness the language becoming orphaned in its own home. The saying "Marathi suffers within its own house" has turned painfully true. This decline not only casts doubt upon the intellectual capacity of students; it exposes the failures of our education system and the shifting social mindset. English is undeniably important for survival in global competition, and there is no dispute about its utility. But in embracing English, are we abandoning our mother tongue? That is the question every Marathi speaker must now ask themselves.
Education experts point to deliberate neglect of Marathi schools as the root of this crisis. Government-aided Marathi schools suffer from acute shortages of teachers. Lack of resources and the administration's indifference to quality have pushed these institutions to the brink. Their numbers are dwindling by the day, while parents are increasingly drawn to English-medium schools. Many parents seem to believe that once their child is admitted to an English school, their responsibility ends. Yet in this process, the child's bond with Marathi is severed - a reality few appear to recognise.
The absence of a Marathi atmosphere within homes is another grave factor. Whatever children may learn at school, it is the responsibility of parents to speak Marathi at home, to make them read Marathi newspapers, and to introduce their children to the richness of Marathi literature. Today, extracurricular reading has all but vanished. In the age of mobile phones and social media, children are drifting away from grammar and vocabulary. A deliberate misconception has been spread in society - that "Marathi does not fetch jobs" or "Marathi is not a language of employment." This illusion has bred indifference towards the subject among students.
The failure of 94,000 pupils in a single subject cannot be dismissed merely as the fault of teachers. It is the bitter fruit of misguided language policies. The government must go beyond declarations and establish, at the level of the School Education Ministry, a special panel of language scholars. Why are students lagging in Marathi? Is the syllabus too difficult, or is the fault in teaching methods? A thorough investigation is essential. Marathi is not merely a medium of communication; it is the backbone of Maharashtra's glorious culture. If this spine weakens, how will the next generation preserve its heritage?
As we celebrate the conferment of classical status, we must heed the warning sounded by the failure of these 94,000 students. It is a cultural alarm bell. If Marathi is to regain its splendour, laws alone will not suffice; pride in the language must be rekindled in every Marathi household. Otherwise, Marathi will remain 'classical' on paper, but in practice, it will become a 'foreign' tongue to our own children. To dispel this disquiet, society and government must now act together.