Perspectives Uncovered

Lately, while learning Indonesian, I’ve noticed an intriguing aspect of the language – its perception of time seems slightly ahead. For example, “half-past six” is expressed as “jam setengah tujuh” in Indonesian, which translates to “half an hour to seven”. English has similar expressions like “a quarter to seven” for 6:45, but they don’t convey the same sense of urgency or the poignant lament for the half-hour about to be lost. Time, an objective measure, is infused with subjective longing in this linguistic nuance. The future tense becomes a present imperative.

The extent to which language shapes the character of its speakers is a proposition often romanticized and yet unproven. Users immersed in their daily linguistic routines may view language merely as a tool, rarely contemplating its inherent personality. Consider French, known for its precision through tense, conjugation, and articles, aligning each component in clear-cut positions, seldom leaving room for ambiguity. Yet, French culture often revels in the beauty of vagueness and ambiguity. In this light, Indonesian seems like a language of the future. Every half-past six becomes a countdown to seven, instilling a sense of urgency to make the most of the remaining time – to strive, enjoy, or struggle a little more before the hour strikes.

English’s present continuous tense is also quite distinctive. Adding “ing” to a verb is like winding up a clock – a perpetual motion. When McDonald’s coined the slogan “I’m lovin’ it,” it seemed to capture the essence of modern life. French has its progressive form too, but daily usage often employs the phrase “en train de” to denote ongoing actions, as if stillness is the norm, and motion, the exception. English appears to be a language of the present, continually evolving, simplifying, discarding the old. Shakespeare, Shelley, Dickens – their defenders seem quaint in a world where “dim-sum,” “Singlish,” and an array of new, bizarre, unorthodox, foreign terms gain acceptance.

When a nation clings to “the language of Molière,” heated debates over the abolition of old spellings suggest a language and people enamored with their past. Only a language from yesteryear can hold words like “nostalgie” (a longing for a homeland or a bygone era) and “mélancolie” (a subtle, almost tangible air of melancholy). Similar sentiments are echoed in Wang Guowei’s “Ren Jian Ci Hua.” His exploration of “scene” and “sentiment” allows language users fleeting glimpses into the character of the language itself. These relics of the past offer solace to modern souls, restless and irate in a rapidly changing world. It reminds me of the spark in my father’s eyes when he recited, “To worry before the world worries, to enjoy after the world enjoys.”, from a 10th century Chinese statesman.

This past year, like many, I’ve grappled with feeling powerless in the face of changing times, braving the pain of shattered hopes, and bearing the weight of fruitless efforts. Learning a new language has transformed from a pleasure to a struggle of faith in adversity. Through language, I perceive time, finding in each symbol created by its users a way for the insignificant individual to coexist with the overwhelming force of time. In the river of time, everything becomes transient; the seemingly inescapable black holes of the present may just be a blink in the eyes of the gods. If reality is a river, then I hope the turmoil, the roars, and the struggles beneath the calm surface will not have been in vain. All rivers eventually reach the sea, and so too, may we find contentment in our destinations.

If we take every tomorrow for granted, then tomorrow loses the passion that makes it desirable. If we take every yesterday for granted, then yesterday loses the intrigue that warrants reflection. If we take every now for granted, we lose what might be humanity’s most beautiful trait: the belief that what we do in this moment will impact the future. We are all writing a story. To stop writing is the easiest path, but if that means our life’s book would be filled with blank pages for future readers, let us rather rouse our spirits and write fervently.

May everyone’s 2024 be such that if we advance, we achieve our desires, and if we retreat, we do so without regret.