I've been thinking about this for a while, and I want to know whether other people from Telangana, especially Hyderabadis, have noticed the same thing.
Are we becoming so eager to look modern, cosmopolitan, or culturally similar to everyone else that we're slowly losing touch with what makes us distinctly Telangana?
I'm not saying culture should never change. Every culture evolves, and Hyderabad has always been a meeting point of different languages, traditions, and communities. I'm also not against North Indian or Western culture. The problem, in my opinion, starts when we begin treating our own traditions as outdated or uncool while treating everything imported as fashionable.
1. Our festivals are becoming events, but are we preserving their traditions?
Look at Bathukamma. Its distinctive identity comes from seasonal flowers, traditional folk songs, women gathering in circles, and generations participating together. Telangana's own government describes it as an important symbol of the state's cultural identity.
Source: Telangana Government — Language and Culture
But in some urban celebrations, I feel the emphasis is increasingly shifting towards DJs, huge sound systems, lighting, stages, and dancing that resembles a nightclub or concert.
There's nothing inherently wrong with music or modern celebrations. But if the traditional songs, dances, and community rituals become secondary, what exactly are we preserving?
The same question applies to Bonalu and Vinayaka Chavithi. We should be able to modernize celebrations without allowing the traditions that distinguish them to become an afterthought.
2. Why does our own traditional clothing sometimes feel less fashionable?
At weddings and festivals, why do some young people feel more excited about wearing outfits associated with Bollywood, North Indian wedding fashion, or Western trends than learning about their own regional attire?
Why aren't we equally enthusiastic about traditional Telangana styles, sarees, langa-vonis, panchalu and other regional clothing?
I'm not saying anyone should be forced to wear a particular outfit. Wear whatever you like. My concern is whether we are choosing different styles because we genuinely prefer them, or because we have unconsciously learned to associate our own traditions with being old-fashioned.
A culture doesn't survive because it exists in museums. It survives because ordinary people continue to wear it, practise it, and pass it on.
3. Our language deserves more respect
This is one of my biggest concerns.
Telangana Telugu has its own vocabulary, expressions, pronunciation, humour, folk traditions, and regional variations. Hyderabad's speech also reflects centuries of interaction between Telugu and Deccani Urdu.
That linguistic mixture is part of Hyderabad's history. Urdu influence does not make Telangana Telugu any less Telugu, and speaking a mixed urban dialect does not automatically mean someone has lost their identity.
My concern is different: are children still learning the native words, expressions, stories, and regional speech of their families and villages? Or are some of those things gradually disappearing from everyday conversation?
Sometimes people mock regional accents or consider standardized Telugu more respectable. If children grow up believing that their grandparents' way of speaking is inferior, they may stop passing it down.
A language can survive officially while some of its local vocabulary and oral traditions fade away. That is why preserving regional speech matters.
4. Hyderabad's food culture is bigger than biryani
Hyderabadi biryani, haleem, and the city's famous food traditions are part of our heritage too. They aren't the enemy.
But Telangana also has a rich culinary tradition of its own: jonna rotte, sajja rotte, sarva pindi, sakinalu, gongura pachadi, regional curries, and traditional festival foods.
The Telangana Tourism website documents many of these dishes:
Telangana Tourism — Gastronomy
How many young people regularly eat these foods, learn to prepare them, or know which dishes are associated with their family's region?
How often do we introduce these dishes to friends compared with the restaurant foods that dominate urban food culture?
The issue isn't that biryani or other cuisines are popular. It's whether our regional food traditions receive the same enthusiasm, investment, and attention.
5. Are we confusing cultural pride with copying what is popular?
Garba and dandiya are wonderful traditions, and people should absolutely be able to enjoy them.
But when we celebrate Bathukamma, shouldn't we also make sure its traditional songs and dances remain central? Why should every celebration need to follow the same DJ-driven format to feel exciting to younger people?
We don't need to reject other cultures to appreciate our own. We need to stop assuming that something becomes more modern or prestigious simply because it comes from somewhere else.
The goal should be cultural confidence, not cultural isolation.
6. What happens when the next generation no longer knows the difference?
This is the part that worries me most.
Imagine a child who grows up in Hyderabad knowing popular songs, social-media trends, restaurant foods, and fashionable outfits, but barely knowing traditional Telangana folk songs, regional words, local festival customs, or the food their grandparents grew up eating.
That child grows up and passes on what they know to their own children.
Nothing dramatic happens in a single generation. There is no moment when a culture suddenly disappears. Traditions can simply become less familiar, less frequently practised, and eventually harder to recover.
Of course, this isn't inevitable. Families, schools, artists, and communities can keep traditions alive while embracing modern life.
But it requires conscious effort.
7. What about economic ownership and representation?
I also wonder whether we discuss local cultural preservation enough alongside local economic opportunity.
Who gets opportunities to build businesses, establish brands around regional products, preserve traditional crafts, develop local food enterprises, and create jobs within Telangana?
I sometimes hear people complain that particular trading, hospitality, and real-estate sectors are dominated by communities with long-established business networks, while local people feel underrepresented in some areas.
I don't think it is fair to blame an entire linguistic, religious, or regional community for its members' business success. Hyderabad has been shaped by people from many backgrounds, and its economy benefits from that diversity.
But it is reasonable to ask whether people born and raised in Telangana have accessible opportunities to build businesses, develop skills, own enterprises, and participate in the prosperity of their own region.
We should examine actual ownership, employment, investment, and access-to-capital data rather than rely on assumptions about who owns what.
Cultural preservation also needs practical support: local entrepreneurs, regional food businesses, folk artists, language resources, and institutions that help younger people engage with their heritage.
My question to fellow Telangana people, especially those from Hyderabad:
Have you noticed any of these changes in your own families, neighbourhoods, festivals, or schools? Which traditions are genuinely fading, which are thriving, and which are simply evolving?
And most importantly, how do we make Telangana culture something young people are genuinely proud to participate in, rather than something they remember only during festivals?
I want a real discussion, not an argument about which culture is superior. We can be cosmopolitan, welcome people from everywhere, and still have a strong sense of who we are.
Modernization should expand our identity, not make us embarrassed by our roots.
