Kysar Khan and Siddique Ahmed, both Standard IX students at Sharada Vilas School, recite shlokas with ease alongside their peers. They still switch to Sanskrit even after classes, whether they are playing or back at home. They are actually teaching their parents the language. They say, “Our elders started with a smattering hold over it but can now manage to speak. “You’re captivated by the graffiti on the wall: ” Maargaha swacchataya viraajithe, gramaha sujanai viraajithe” (cleanliness is as important for a road as good people are for a village).
Yesterday was not the day the custom was established. According to history, in 1512, the Vijayanagar emperor gave the “people” Mathoor and the nearby Hosahalli, which were famous centers of Vedic and Sanskrit studies since ancient times. The archaeology department has kept the inscriptions from the gift deed on copper plates.
The Sanskritspeaking habit of Mathoor was further enhanced when the Pejawar mutt’s Pontiff Vishvesha Theertha came to the area in 1982 and renamed it ‘the Sanskrit village’. Once a colony of Sanketi Brahmins, the village is now home to a variety of communities, including Muslims, Lambanis, and members of underprivileged classes.
But speaking in Sanskrit is not a childish habit. Children start learning the language at the Montessori level, where they learn rhymes and hear stories in Sanskrit, and even Chandamama comics are published in Sanskrit. Sanskrit is a required subject in school, and even teachers and students converse in it.
In the several Brahmin families of the village, Vedic chants resound at the crack of dawn in the hopes of furthering their education. (Trayi, Pavanatmaja, Chintamani, PrasannaBhaskara Nilayaha are the names of the residences. ) Many people have gotten employment as software engineers, and some are teaching Sanskrit in universities throughout the state.
“I returned to live in Mathoor after finishing my engineering education. Now in his late 60s, Gopal Avadhani says, “I live with my family—about 20 of us spanning four generations—and take care of the property.
In the interim, another member of the family, Rukmini, interrupts, asking, “Coffeya chaaya kim ichchathi” (What will you have, coffee or tea)? Outside, children laugh and play while shouting out their names: Niharika, Ikshudhanwa, Savyasaachi, and Manojava.
In the true gurushishya tradition, Avadhani remembers the names of numerous foreign students who lived with them to attend intensive Sanskrit courses: “Rutger, Kortemgorst and Vincent came down from Ireland last year. ” According to Avadhani, Vincent stunned everyone by speaking Sanskrit at the farewell ceremony. Shortly after, as people resume their regular activities, you can hear more Sanskrit. Sometimes, the entire town resembles a pathashala, where everyone—including children and men—is dressed in white dhotis and angasvatra, greeting one another with the greetings ‘Hari Om’ (hello) and ‘Katham aasthi? ‘ (how are you? ).
But Mathoor is not a secluded retreat that avoids the outside world. In addition, a number of its children have relocated to urban areas in search of better opportunities, and John Mar, a British Sanskrit instructor, was also in the village giving a speaking lesson.
Samskruta Bharati, an organization based in New Delhi that works to promote the language, has a chapter in this city, and Srinidhi, its secretary, is in charge of it. The group instructs practical language for everyday communication.
From the banks of the Tunga comes the beautiful singing of the Vedas at dusk. The river is exceptionally peaceful. And the quiet transports one from modern life to a bygone era when Sanskrit was king and when there were no cellphones. Or, as the people of Mathoor would say, in the absence of a “nishtantu dooravani”!
In addition to numerous software engineers, Mathoor has trained more than 30 Sanskrit lecturers who are currently teaching at Kuvempu, Bangalore, Mysore, and Mangalore Universities. The village’s notable figures include gamaka expert H. R. Keshavamurthy, violinist Venkataram, and Mathoor Krishnamurthy of Bangalore’s Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan.
The production of arecanut, coconut, and vegetables is the primary source of income for the people of Mathoor. The village features two schools, a primary health center, a cooperative society, and a few grocery stores.
However, the locals don’t complain about the absence of infrastructure. In fact, the village may be said to be a perfect example of self-government. They have supplied each of their homes with a separate connection and pump water straight from the river. They didn’t pout when the village lake was covered with hyacinth last year and the government gave up on cleaning it because the estimated cost was over Rs 1 crore. Around 70 of them got together, swam through the lake, and physically pulled out the weeds. In 45 days, the task was completed.
