The British Raj left many marks upon India and Indians. One of which is the English language, which has become one of the countries official languages. The language has so become intertwined with the daily language --that you can't tell what are Indian words and what are British words.
My study of the Influence in our language started when I was reading the book, A Passage to India, in high school. I learnt of words that could possibly be of British origin that I thought were Indian. Like the word, tiffin -- who knew that the container we refer to as a tiffin, originated from the Brits.
Lets take the food item, "Ragda Petis" or "Ragda Patties" as I have recently realized it could possibly be hinting to. I am simply amazed that the thing I call Petis, could be referring to a Patties.
Like the word "jungle" which originate from the Hindi word, 'jangal', which means a rough, waterless place. I recently heard the word jungle being used in a bhajan and thought that they started to use English words, when I checked dictionary.com and realized that the word I thought was English was actually of Indian origin.
Another word/phrase I theorized about recently was "phoot", which is slang in Gujarati and it means "to get out of here". When I said phoot, I thought of my foot and how the British were probably telling the Indians "phoot", meaning to get out. Possibly starting a slang term, that is still being used by me. Amazing. Or I just have a lot of time on my hands to wonder.
Update (12/31): The word "punch" orignates from "paanch" meaning five, the number of ingredients in the drink, punch.
Showing posts with label what if. Show all posts
Showing posts with label what if. Show all posts
Friday, May 11, 2007
Friday, January 26, 2007
What if... I was the Greatest Lyricist of All Time
My cube-mate and I both have headphones on. God only knows what he is listening to, but I thankfully am not performing an auscultation of the voices in my head. That I'll leave to another What if... I am grooving to "Aa Bhi Ja" with Lucky Ali and Sunidhi Chauhan. A remarkable song with above-satisfactory lyrics. These are one of the many soothing units of the lexicon put together into a full ballad that I have encountered, but not the most touching.
What if I was a lyricist and I were to put together the most majestically awe-inspiring set of lyrics? Of course, I require a Ganpati to be my scribe and I take on my new role of Vyas dictating my composition, as the emotion and words spew out of me. I start off with a heart-strings pulling line, "Shree Vallabh nakha-chandra chata bina, Saaba jaaga mahi ju andhero". (Without the moon beams shining from the toe-nails of Shree Vallabacharya, I only see darkness in this ignorance-ridden world.) I carry forward with another emotion evoking statement, "Saadhun aur nahi aa kali-mai, Jaso hawte nevero". (In this terrible age of Kali (Kalyug – Dark age), I see no other way to save myself.) Seeing that the first two lines require a sufficient title line, I spit out, "Dhrada inna charanane kero bharoso". (I take refuge at the feet of Shree Vallabhacharya, for I have absolute faith in him and him alone.) It indeed becomes my first line and title of the poem song.
Realistically Dhrada inna charanan was written by Surdas, his very last poem, after countless songs of Krishna, but what if I could muster up some passion onto paper and write something as magnificent. Had I written it of course, I would have croaked at the last word, but reached salvation.
What if I was a lyricist and I were to put together the most majestically awe-inspiring set of lyrics? Of course, I require a Ganpati to be my scribe and I take on my new role of Vyas dictating my composition, as the emotion and words spew out of me. I start off with a heart-strings pulling line, "Shree Vallabh nakha-chandra chata bina, Saaba jaaga mahi ju andhero". (Without the moon beams shining from the toe-nails of Shree Vallabacharya, I only see darkness in this ignorance-ridden world.) I carry forward with another emotion evoking statement, "Saadhun aur nahi aa kali-mai, Jaso hawte nevero". (In this terrible age of Kali (Kalyug – Dark age), I see no other way to save myself.) Seeing that the first two lines require a sufficient title line, I spit out, "Dhrada inna charanane kero bharoso". (I take refuge at the feet of Shree Vallabhacharya, for I have absolute faith in him and him alone.) It indeed becomes my first line and title of the poem song.
Realistically Dhrada inna charanan was written by Surdas, his very last poem, after countless songs of Krishna, but what if I could muster up some passion onto paper and write something as magnificent. Had I written it of course, I would have croaked at the last word, but reached salvation.
Thursday, January 25, 2007
What if...Sheel Does Bollywood
As I sit here in my cubicle, which I share with another coworker, masquerading as a diligent employee, staring at the corner time display of my computer screen, which is still showing 2:46 PM, I am left to ponder what if I hadn't taken the plunge into the overwhelming thrill ride that is Information Technology. What would I have done? Could I have been an Indian film Star..or at least a C-list "altu-phaltu" (nobody)? Hey, a girl can dream can't see, and so this one does...
I abscond from this constant state of lethargy known as work and land on a couch of a room in the Port of Bombay now called Mumbai. I look around the room as the door across the couch opens up and in comes a 40-something man who seems to be inebriated. He plops down on the couch uncomfortably close to me and he says, "Thanks for coming to my Madh Island bungalow, 'Ruchi', I wanted to get to know your "acting" skills on a more personal level." Looking outside the window at the dark of night, I know for a fact that he is not going to ask me to sing bhajans to him. Before I could say, "Ruchi who?", he places his arm around me. I immediately freeze up, not saying anything, while debates go off in my head. What am I doing?, so can I get a role out of it?? Unbeknownst to me, the glimmer of character that I didn't know to exist burst out of nowhere and I pushed him off and sprang out the door.
My daydreams truly suck with negativity oozing out of every bubble. Most people fantasize of super-stardom and here I am imagining obscurity. Ah well, I'm back at work its January 2007 and I still have a December 2006 calendar on my wall. Looking at my lackluster cubicle, I'm already looking forward to my next What if....
I abscond from this constant state of lethargy known as work and land on a couch of a room in the Port of Bombay now called Mumbai. I look around the room as the door across the couch opens up and in comes a 40-something man who seems to be inebriated. He plops down on the couch uncomfortably close to me and he says, "Thanks for coming to my Madh Island bungalow, 'Ruchi', I wanted to get to know your "acting" skills on a more personal level." Looking outside the window at the dark of night, I know for a fact that he is not going to ask me to sing bhajans to him. Before I could say, "Ruchi who?", he places his arm around me. I immediately freeze up, not saying anything, while debates go off in my head. What am I doing?, so can I get a role out of it?? Unbeknownst to me, the glimmer of character that I didn't know to exist burst out of nowhere and I pushed him off and sprang out the door.
My daydreams truly suck with negativity oozing out of every bubble. Most people fantasize of super-stardom and here I am imagining obscurity. Ah well, I'm back at work its January 2007 and I still have a December 2006 calendar on my wall. Looking at my lackluster cubicle, I'm already looking forward to my next What if....
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