There I was, standing in a police station somewhere deep in Tamil Nadu, anxiously watching the officer behind the desk scribble away, “Sir, what happened?” he asked in English.

I carefully explained the whole incident: My car brushed against another vehicle, and the angry driver insisted I accompany him to the police station. Now, I was hoping the officer would hear me out and set things straight. The officer nodded sympathetically and turned to a constable. Suddenly, Tamil words filled the room like rapid gunfire.

The constable grabbed a pen, wrote furiously on a large sheet of paper, and handed it to me to sign.

“What’s this?” I asked, hesitant.

“Your complaint, sir! All correct!” the officer assured me.

I stared at the page. Not a word of English or Hindi on it. For all I knew, it could've said, “This man admits to driving rashly, agrees to pay damages, and confesses to every traffic violation in the last decade.”

“But how can I be sure what you've written is accurate?” I questioned.

“Sir, we wrote what you said,” the constable replied firmly.

“Yes,” I said, “But how do I know you haven’t twisted my words or left something important out?”

The officer smiled, but I could see the impatience in his eyes. "Sir, we are here to help. Just sign."

I hesitated, then reluctantly put pen to paper. As I walked out of the station, a knot of anxiety tightened in my chest.

Had I unknowingly agreed to something disastrous?

That to in my own land!

And that's the danger of language, isn’t it? It’s meant to connect, but too often it divides. In legal matters, one wrongly interpreted sentence can alter the course of justice. In hospitals, a misunderstood prescription can endanger a life. In politics, a mistranslated remark can spark tension between people.

Take, for instance, the Treaty of Waitangi in New Zealand. A critical mistranslation between the English and Māori versions resulted in vastly different understandings of sovereignty, causing decades of conflict and unrest.

Or consider the funny case of a tourist in Japan who, after asking for a 'hospital,' was mistakenly sent to a mortuary!

Even in our own homes, language can spark conflict. Misunderstandings between words parents use and children, spouses, or friends have turned minor disagreements into major quarrels.

Weeks later, I met a lawyer who told me I had been fortunate. "You did the right thing questioning them," he said gravely. "People have unknowingly confessed to serious accusations because they couldn’t understand what was written."

Language should build understanding, not create fear. Because sometimes, what's written in ink can change your life forever!

Who are creating this divide are politicians, because the only way we can establish better relationships, do better business or become a success in our respective fields, is through better communication, and certainly not by allowing ourselves to get lost in translation..!

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