More than words - - - - -

With so many Hindi words joining the English dictionary, it would appear that (the) English is once again on a conquest. However, the fact is that Hindi has not been too far in picking English words to suit its purposes.

The first time I noticed this was when someone used the word ‘Colgate’ while speaking in Hindi. He was describing in Hindi how he injured himself while he was doing ‘Colgate’ in the morning. He was using the name of a brand in a generic way to describe morning ablutions.

That’s what got me tuned into this subterranean world of English words.

Bus drivers are called ‘Pilots’ more to give them respect than to describe the speed at which they ply on Indian roads, while bus conductors shout ‘right right’ not because they want him to turn in a certain direction but to egg him on. The word almost sounds like ‘ray’.

Whenever cell phones percolate down to the tiniest village English has not been far behind. The strength of the signal indicated by bars on the screen are described as ‘tower’ well it does look like a mini tower. So if there is no signal one says ‘there is no tower’ (in Hindi off course).

Indians have not only Indianised Chinese but have also improvised on the spellings. ‘Chainese’ is the most seen spelling around, while to cater to the Indian palate a dish called ‘Gobi Manchurian’ (pronounced Manchuri) has been concocted. Gobi, is Cauliflower and has got nothing to do with the abode of the Bactrian Camel. Brightly lit roadside stalls announce brazenly on their small billboards ‘chainese’, while the sidekick offers ‘gobi manjuri, veg fried rice’ (pronounced weg) all in a single breath.

Small eateries in small towns serve a cuisine of their own. The places are small, smoky and dingy, people sit packed into benches sweating reasons being lack of ventilation and the liberal amount of chillies added. Ordering an egg here can be a problem – if you want a fried egg you ask for a ‘half boiled’. Strangely enough in one of the places in the south I heard ‘bulls-eye’ being ordered and it did not end with a bovine becoming blind.

‘Congress’ has less to do with a political party or a gathering of people, in certain areas of the south it indicates free munchies in shady bars. This is usually puffed rice with the odd salted peanut thrown in to add colour, it is served on a piece of paper. Munching these things provide entertainment between sips because one has to protect it from the blast of the fan that blows away the smoke from those smoking. While when you order a ‘cutting’ do not expect someone to snip your hair but to serve you half a glass of tea.

‘Adjust’ is a word that is frequently used, infact it describes an Indian’s mentality. If there is an accident the guilty party pleadingly uses the word ‘adjust’ to beg for a little mercy. While on a train bursting at its seams a passenger will stand next to a sitting person and request him to ‘adjust’ which means that the sitting person sidle up to provide a little place.

One does not have to seek any particular environment to hear/see such things. These things can accost you on the road - if some asks you to ‘hold it’ and gives you nothing, it does not mean s/he is an inmate of an asylum – it’s just a request for you to stop.

If language transcends boundaries, Indians have shown that words transcend meanings.

Was ‘I will survive—‘ inspired by India’s history?

Who hasn’t heard Gloria Gaynor belt out ‘I will survive’. Who hasn’t relived every failure, rejection when she heartily adds ‘I have so much more to give---’. Who hasn’t silently winced at the thought of the time a toe was stomped on when the best foot was put forward.

‘I will survive’ is an anthem that anyone can identify with.

But, what inspired Freddie Perren and Dino Fekaris to write these words, what were the incidents that made Gloria sing with so much emotion what was it that makes these words ring true even today?

Me thinks that the lyricists and Gloria were inspired by India’s history. But I am not stopping there I also think that they saw into India’s future too.

The words of this 1978 song trace the course of Indian history. Consider the first six lines of the song (http://www.lyricsdomain.com/7/gloria_gaynor/i_will_survive.html). It speaks about lack of faith in oneself and then the self realisation that metamorphises into self actualisation. These words have to be about India’s freedom movement.

But these words were prescient because they also present a clear picture of the state of India’s politics. Consider how political parties (and even politicians) hop into bed with each other and then hop out. Each such episode ends with a oath to ‘go it alone’ but somewhere in their downside to oblivion parties and politicians come out to the press and state that they are now ready for a coalition on ‘certain terms and conditions’. And so it continues.

Gloria sings lustily ‘I should have changed my stupid lock I should have made you leave your key If I had known for just one second you'd be back to bother me’. Well if this isn’t about India then I don’t know what is. India was attacked innumerable times over the centuries. Some of the known faces who were uninvited guests (frequent at times) and even bad guests were Alexander, Mohammed of Ghazni and the British. The British made this country their little love nest and overstayed their welcome. Thus was borne India’s desire to change the keys of her door.

But even now India feels the need to make her home secure what with separatists in the North and North East baying for freedom.

The second stanza is more about India’s current desire to be recognised as a global superpower. Gloria belts out “and I spent oh so many nights just feeling sorry for myself I used to cry Now I hold my head up high and you see me somebody new I'm not that chained up little person”. Who can forget India’s tryst with nuclear weapons in 1998 and it proudly crowing that she is now a ‘nuclear have’ or for that matter the recent start up of a military outpost in some break away of the former USSR. All these are indications of a change from a third world country with hungry millions to a wannabe first world country with still hungry millions – all in a span of 60 years.

So Gloria, I think you should come out and thank India for the inspiration it has provided you and your lyricists. It is not too late to do so.

I saw this behind an autorickshaw.

Of files, handshakes and office table drawers.

What seems – never is! Maybe that is why India has earned so many accolades as the corruption capital of the world – okay Transparency Internationals Global Corruption Barometer puts India as the 70^th most corrupt nation. Not very encouraging when India is near the bottom half of this list while dreaming of becoming a global super power. But the good thing about this whole thing is that it not only indicates that Indians are very creative, but also very adaptable (look at the country's history) – Darwin would be proud.

Consider the situation of the office of an Indian File Pusher (IFP) – it has a large desk, a chair behind it which is draped with a towel. The wall behind the chair may have a photo of Mahatma Gandhi, the President and the politician in power. There will be a large calendar to keep the IFP up-to-date. The office may have a small shrine with the deity of the IFP.

The desk is unique, on one side two plastic trays (in and out) carry the hopes of millions, while the other has a pen stand with a myriad variety of pens. There may be paper weights on the desk, but these are going out of fashion as air conditioners become the norm. A lidded glass of water stands as a sentinel close by. The desk has drawers on the side where the IFP sits – usually empty.

The drawer serves another purpose. It’s the unofficial collection box. This is what happens - someone comes with an urgent file, the person stands at the side of the IFP in deference while the IFP peruses the file. Some questions are asked which are answered vaguely. As the file is signed the person puts his hand into his pocket and in one deft movement drops a packet of notes into the drawer. This happened in front of me.

Consider the same IFP in a similar office. A file is brought to him - he opens it and out slips a little packet of notes into his lap. The file is quickly dealt with and then the offending packet is delicately put into the draw for later retrieval.

The handshake was always been a form of communication, communicating a greeting, a promise- okay it was also a way to pass information, you know, a crowded station two men in trench courts pass each other under the benevolent eye of clueless cops and as the two men pass one hand slips the other a vital piece of information that saves the world and kills one of them.

In India this has been modified into an art that ensures both parties not only survive but thrive. The parties in such situation are the cops (traffic species in particular) on one side and erring drivers on the other.

The traffic police usually work in teams they operate either from a motorbike or a jeep. What happens is that the lackey does the scouting while the senior person finds a comfortable spot on the parked bike or jeep and waits. The flunky sifts the wheat from the chaff and the manna begins pouring in.

This is how – the lackey flags down an erring vehicle and the first thing that he does is grab the ignition keys. Then he asks for documents from the erring driver and then goes to his boss who is sitting noncommittally on his vehicle – salivating. The boss looks at the documents shakes his head and takes out a form and begins filling it in all seriousness. This performance gives him a black and white picture of what is coming next court visits, vehicle impounded, sheaves of notes flying from his wallet into the hands of the government. The lackey sees these thoughts in Eastman Colour. He takes the erring waif aside provides a solution which is simple and suits everyone. No court, no impounding, no sheaves of money entering government coffers, just a little private monetary transaction.

The erring driver moves a little away and then pulls out his purse takes and out the suggested amount. He folds it into a very tiny innocuous piece of paper that fits neatly in the palm of his hand. The lackey hands over the documents to the driver and in grateful thanks he shakes hands with the lackey and thus passes the money. The lackey puts his hand into his pocket and saunters back to his boss. This process is followed till its time to go home (or the closest bar).

And so that is how Indians have gone ahead and improved and even improvised on age old traditions, they have found new uses for things to ensure that there is a win-win situation.

Indians have added an addendum to Darwin's theory – a win-win situation ensures that everyone thrives.

Perceiving more the second time.

I saw Platoon on a movie channel yesterday. This movie about Vietnam, war and how people deal with it had a surprise for me. At various stages of the movie (before and after advertisements) the channel gave little tit-bits about Platoon. So besides the fact that the entire crew lived like soldiers at location in the Philippines, I also learned that this was one of Johnny Depp’s first movies, and that Stone saw Depp becoming a Hollywood star.

What is quite surprising was not Stone’s ability to sniff out star material but that there was something new to be found in the old. I have seen Platoon many times and I have never recognised Depp nor seen Depp’s name in the fine print of the credits.

I remember, many years back, my father asking me whether I could hear new nuances to familiar music, then I heard music as one great orgiastic human creation. The delicacy of the cymbals in the clash of drums, the off-beat or even the sound of an altogether new instrument was lost in the noise of music.

And this ability to discern is a new phenomenon with me, maybe I am ‘discerning affected’, or maybe now the sum is as important as the parts. I think there is this space created when you allow the world to surprise you. It’s not about seeing things in a different light, its going beyond and recognising that light consists of seven colours.

Its as much about seeing things differently as letting things be seen.

Is milk an unrecognised source of climate change?

I was watching Veer Sanghvi in a programme on “Travel and Living” the programme is about different foods of India, today he was speaking about India’s fetish for milk.

He guided me through a variety of facts – India was the largest producer of milk and yawn and yawn and yawn. I woke up when he began to meander through varieties of milk products – the zillions of sweets, clarified butter, cottage cheese, cheese, yoghurt and so on.

And then it hit me – milk can also be a cause of Climate Change.

No I am not talking about cows farting (http://www.danamania.com/temp/cow-fire.jpg), or about grasslands and all that. It’s all about the processes that milk and its products go through. It begins from pasteurisation, to the boiling of milk to make sweets to finally the process that makes the sugar.

If one were to calculate the number of sweet shops, the variety of sweets, Indians love for sweets and India’s population one would come to a climate change inducing amount of fuel used.

So what can be done to reduce the impacts of Indian sweet making on the climate? The first step for this industry would be to use jargons such as ‘energy efficiency’, ‘alternative fuels’ which every suresh, ganesh, ramesh is using. Maybe another thing to do immediately would be to reduce our consumption of milk. If we don’t do something now then we will have to do something more drastic like cutting on our sweet intake – but that may lead to Indians doing what they like best – burning things (buses, flags, effigies, people etc) which may be the last straw on the camel’s (pronounced climate) back.

Maybe it would be more palatable if everyone switched from incandescent bulbs to CFLs in the interim while the government creates a committee to study the impacts of milk on our climate.

If (with apologies to Rudyard Kipling)

If thinking of you could bring peace, there would only be 'make love'
If thinking of you could fill every pothole, suspensions would breathe easier
If thinking of you could reduce weight, there would be no guilt after a chocolate
If thinking of you could fill my glass of whiskey, I wouldnt have a waiter hovering around me
If thinking of you could give me a cigarette, passive smoking wouldn't be a health hazard
If thinking of you could fill my bike's petrol tank, Bush wouldnt have an excuse to attack Iraq
If thinking of you could clean a house, who would have heard of Cinderella?

If only thinking of you - - - - - - - - - -