My Mother Tongue.

I heard the language, to which I call my mother- tongue since my first cry in this world. When I started going to school at the age of seven directly in class third, I found it difficult to speak standard Hindi. My mother-tongue used to take place of Khari-boli, Hindi unconciously. I didn't know the name of that Hindi. I used to call it Urdu, which was wrong. In school I tried to speak in Khari-boli, but I did mistakes in doing so. Whenever any of our relatives or cousins met during reccess in school or in public places, I used to talk to them in my mother-tongue and immediately I talked in Khari-boli on the other side to my school friends.
After marriage my in-laws used to speak Kannaugi dialect. Even today I feel difficulty in speaking correct Kannaugi. I always did and do mistakes in speaking Kannaugi and mingle both the dialects.
About fifty years have passed of my marriage, even today I think in my mother tongue. I frequently talk to Sainath in my mother tongue. I do every thing in this dialect. I pray, I talk, I complain, I thank and I show my gratitude to Lord in my mother-tongue. I don't leave a single opportunity in using my loved language. I always talk to my siblings on phone or personally only in my this original dialect. Though my husband started talking to me in Khari-boli of Hindi since first day of meeting, I couldn't be free from deep-rooted love for my mother-tongue. I never feel tired of using my dear Ganj-muradabadi, near Unnao, U.P. I love my mother-tongue.