Going back to the point regarding the region made before, an added complication, a delicious one no doubt, is not only the multilingualism but also the multi-logicality of the writers writing in Indian languages. An Amritlal Nagar’s Hindi, shot through with a rich dosage of Awadhi and Lucknowi Zubaan, and a Vijaydan Detha’s creatively transformational retellings of Rajasthani folktales, are too disparate to be viewed as from or originating in a common Hindi, as their translators Christi A Merrill and Sheeba Rakesh will readily attest to. My own attempts at translating Gajanan Madhav Muktibodh have brought me face to face with the impossibility of divorcing his language from his native Marathi, from which his migration to Hindi was a very conscious and motivated decision. Moreover, certain writers are best viewed primarily in the very framework of translation before actual translations of their works into English are even undertaken. A Jayant Kaikini, whose Kannada reverberates with Mumbaiya Hindi, Dakkhani and even Gujarati and has been vigorously and vitally rendered into English by Tejaswini Niranjana is one such example. For another take Premchand who writes the ‘same’ novel in Urdu first as Bazaar-e-Husn, and then in Hindi as Sevasadan. Perhaps it will not be a surprise for the readers to know that the two texts read very differently and bear different political and social constraints, not to say the most glaring constraint induced by the politics of aggressively emerging nationalistic Hindi and a declining-receding Urdu. Not just limited to Indian languages, such multilingualism and multi-logicality extends to ‘foreign’ languages too, best exemplified in my knowledge in the writings of Nirmal Verma whose Hindi reflects the syntactic structure of Czech and other east-European languages! Amongst several other things, such as the impossibility of linearly tracing the (quite literally!) translation from the vernacular to English, this plurality confronts us with a deeply unequal relationship between Indian languages, such that even as translations from certain languages continue to grow and assert their presence in the global circuits of literary translation, most other languages are languishing due to the neglect of publishing houses, marketing networks and a dearth of skilled translators. As Malayalam, Bengali, Tamil, Hindi, and increasingly Marathi and Kannada have caught the imagination of readers in English, languages like Oriya, Pahari, and dialects and languages are spoken in the North-East suffer not only due to the skewed translational flows, but also the state policy which only recognises 22 official languages in this land of bewildering and throbbing linguistic diversity.