There is something deeply uncomfortable about the way we sometimes judge people in India by the way they pronounce English words.

Somewhere along the way, pronunciation stopped being simply about communication and became a marker of education, class and social status. We have begun to believe that the person who can reproduce a foreign accent or pronounce an unfamiliar word exactly like a native speaker must be more educated, sophisticated or intelligent.

But is that really fair?
Think about words we commonly encounter today in restaurants and on menus: salmon, quinoa, tortilla, gnocchi, jalapeño.

For many of us who grew up in ordinary Indian homes, these were not words we heard during childhood. They were not part of our vocabulary, our conversations or our surroundings. We encountered them much later—perhaps in a restaurant, on television, in a movie, on YouTube or through social media.

And then suddenly, we are expected to know how they are pronounced.

Where did we learn them?

Often, from foreign television serials, Hollywood movies, YouTube videos and social media. We hear a particular pronunciation repeatedly and eventually imitate it.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with learning the correct pronunciation of a word. In fact, it is useful.

But the question is:

When did knowing the pronunciation become a reason to look down on somebody who doesn't?

Think about the person behind the pronunciation.

Imagine a young man from a small rural village in India. He has worked hard, perhaps studied in a government school, learnt English as a second or third language and finally gets an opportunity to come to a large city.

He may be talented, hardworking and extremely capable. He may know his subject better than many of the people around him.

He walks into a corporate office for his first interview.

He speaks English, but with the pronunciation he has learnt.

Someone asks him to pronounce a particular word.

He gets it wrong.

There is a smile across the table.

Perhaps someone quietly corrects him. Perhaps another person laughs later. Maybe a colleague begins imitating the way he speaks.

What happens then?

The young man doesn't suddenly become less intelligent. His qualifications haven't changed. His ability to work hasn't changed. His character hasn't changed.

Only our perception of him has changed.

And that is the real problem.

When this happens repeatedly, something begins to change inside the person. He becomes conscious of every word. He thinks before speaking. He worries that someone will laugh.

Eventually, he may stop participating in meetings altogether, not because he has nothing to contribute, but because he is afraid of how he sounds.

We should be very careful about creating such insecurity in people.

Of course, pronunciation matters. If a word is being pronounced in a way that makes communication difficult, it is perfectly reasonable to help someone learn it.

A teacher should teach. A colleague can gently correct. A friend can explain.

But there is a world of difference between correcting someone and humiliating someone.

Pronunciation is not the same as accent.

English itself has no single universal pronunciation. British English, American English, Australian English and Indian English can sound very different. Even within Britain or America, people pronounce words differently.

Take schedule, tomato, garage, route or advertisement.

Different pronunciations can be perfectly legitimate depending on the variety of English being spoken.

So why should an Indian automatically believe that sounding foreign means sounding better?

Perhaps because we have spent years consuming foreign media. We hear actors and television presenters speaking in a particular way, and we naturally imitate them.

There is nothing wrong with that either.

The problem begins when imitation becomes superiority.

A person who grew up hearing English at home may naturally pronounce a word differently from someone who first encountered English at school.

A person from Mumbai may sound different from someone from Kerala. Someone from a village may sound different from someone educated in an international school in Bengaluru.

None of these differences determine intelligence.

Consider the restaurant table.

Imagine two people sitting across a restaurant table.

One confidently orders *gnocchi* with the pronunciation he learnt from an Italian chef on television.

The other looks at the menu and struggles to pronounce it because he has never heard the word before.

Who is more intelligent?

The obvious answer is:

We don't know.

One simply has greater exposure to that particular word.

And that is the point we need to remember.

Education should broaden our understanding, not narrow our respect for people.

If someone mispronounces quinoa, teach them if they want to learn.

If someone says jalapeño differently, explain it without making them feel foolish.

If a new employee from a rural background speaks English with a strong regional accent, listen to what he is saying before judging how he is saying it.

Because someday, any one of us could be the person who doesn't know the word.

The true measure of an educated person is not how quickly they can detect somebody else's pronunciation mistake.

It is how graciously they respond when they hear it.

English is a language we use to communicate. It should open doors,not become another door through which we decide who belongs.

Perhaps the next time we hear someone pronounce a word differently, we should listen a little more carefully and judge a little less.

The accent may be different.
The pronunciation may not be perfect.
But the person deserves to be heard.