'When it's fake, it sounds fake'

In a society which has developed an odd obsession with Westernisation, the pressure to sport a foreign accent has become a status symbol. But is this linguistic cosplay doing more harm than good? Actor Hina Bayat seems to think so, and she's not pulling any punches. Bayat recently set the record straight on the absurdity of putting on airs through accents. In a society where a British or American lilt is often mistaken for sophistication, her words cut through the nonsense with surgical precision.

"Any accent, if it's put on, will come across as fake," Bayat stated on Instagram. "One should work on grooming themselves to get the pronunciations right but not 'try' and put on an American or British accent—when it's fake, it sounds fake! It is far more important to get the grammar right, to work on your vocabulary and then pronunciation."

The actor isn't merely taking a jab at pretentious accents; she's diving into a growing disdain for one's native language in a quest to seem fashionable. It's a phenomenon that's slowly eroding the cultural bedrock of Pakistani society. "It saddens me when I see how we have started taking pride in 'not knowing' Urdu. When you negate your own language, you lose out on your culture, literature, history, and ultimately, your identity. It is far more important to excel at your own language before trying the same for another."

This isn't just about accents or enunciation; it's a sharp critique of how, in the pursuit of global acceptance, many are willing to abandon the very things that define them. Bayat's words urge us to confront an uncomfortable truth: by obsessing over foreign languages, especially through a half-baked impersonation of an accent, are we not sidelining our own cultural essence?

Echoing Bayat's sentiments, fellow actor Saba Hamid adds her voice to the conversation with an equally sharp commentary on the perils of neglecting one's mother tongue. Hamid's stance is less about accent critique and more about the survival of linguistic heritage.

"Speak your native language to your children or watch it die within the next 20 years," Hamid warns. "Looking down on your relatives who speak your native tongue because you speak perfect English is stupid. It is like being proud of borrowed clothes," she penned on her Instagram Story.

The Noor Jahan actor's analogy of "borrowed clothes" brilliantly captures the absurdity of flaunting fluency in a foreign language while sidelining one's own. It's like being decked out in designer wear that doesn't belong to you, while your own wardrobe, rich in history and sentiment, gathers dust. The metaphor is spot-on and stings just enough.

Both Bayat and Hamid aren't advocating for the abandonment of English or any other foreign language. They're calling for a reclamation of linguistic pride—an insistence that we should first master the languages that are intrinsic to our identity before we dabble in others. It's a push for sincerity in a world that often mistakes mimicry for mastery. As Bayat puts it, "when it's fake, it sounds fake." It's high time we reconsider our linguistic priorities before we lose more than just the ability to roll our R's or nail a tricky diphthong.