S is for sitting

Sorry about the lack of blogposts recently. You see, I've not been sitting on my computer lately.

Test: Are you wondering how I'd type a  blogpost if I was sitting on my computer? If you answered yes, then you are not a Hinglish speaker.

Hinglish speakers believe that computers are sat on, not at. That this implies that a computer could be replaced with a nice, comfortable sofa does not occur to them. Also, the thought that it could prove a little inconvenient to sit on the computer when it is necessary to actually use a computer apparently does not arise. If my backside (see backsides ) is on my computer, basic things such as offing or onning the computer (see offing and onning ) will become difficult, never mind surfing the internet or using word processing software.

Computers are not the only things that can be sat on, desks also fall into this category. I have often walked into offices only to be be told that the people I want to meet are sitting on their desks. This conjures up an imagine of a group of people perched on their desks with their feet on their chairs, whiling away their time - which actually may be a better description of what they are doing.

It is also disconcerting to go to someone's house for dinner only to be told that the other guests are already sitting on the dining table (just like a whole roasted pig with an apple it its mouth a la Christmas dinner - to carve or to socialize, that is the questions)!

A tip to all non-Hinglish speakers: when faced with an unlikely seating description, replace sitting on with sitting at and see if the situation seems more probable.

O is for office

Hinglish speakers' use of the word office can make it next to impossible for their schedules to be deciphered by non-Hinglish speakers.


For instance, have you ever been told that someone is going to office? I am always tempted to ask questions like, "And where exactly will you office?" and, "For what will you office?" I suppose if "I am going to a/the shop" and, "I am going to shop" can both be correct, then it is terribly unfair that words like office have to always be preceded by an article or a possessive determiner.
 
At other times, the word may continue to be used as a noun but with an entirely different connotation. In this situation, the sentence may go something like this, "I will do it in office." And no, they do not mean that they will fight for a noble cause while serving a term as the illustrious (insert appropriate title) of some large business or country. Unlike some Presidents of the United States who, while in office, have achieved some great things, the Hinglish speaker who will do something in office means that he will complete a (mundane) task while at his/her place of work.

Sometimes, people will even tell you that they have office.  This can be used in a sentence as follows, "I cannot see you tomorrow, it is Monday so I have office." People say they have office like they have a fever or Seinfeld on DVD, but what they really mean is that they have to go to work.

The word office is clearly extremely important in the current Indian context, since almost everyone spends some time at an office, so non Hinglish speakers should remember the following things while trying to make plans around someone else's schedule:
"I'm going to office," means, "I'm going to the/my office."
"I will do it in office," means, "I will complete the task when I get to my/the office."
"I have office tomorrow," means, "I need to go to work tomorrow."

N is for names

When I was a child, it always confused me when people asked me me for my "good name," I never knew what to tell these well-meaning adults. I remember wondering whether I had a "bad name" which would be used when I'd been especially naughty. I also wondered whether it was odd that I did not have a "good name," just a regular name.

How is a good name different from any other name? Ah, that is an excellent question. You see, "good name" comes from the Hindi phrase shubh naam. It is, surprise surprise, a literal translation. Good names are usually very formal, long and dignified - not really suitable for young children. The result? Said young child, saddled with a long, formal name is often referred to by a shorter name which is usually unrelated to his "good name." To differentiate, the shorter name is called a "pet name."

Pet names were another source of confusion for me as a young child. First, because a pet name sounds very much like the type of names you call your little furry friends and second because pet names and good names are always so different. In general, people are known by their pet names at home and to friends of the family, but are known by their good names at school and professionally. When the two groups of people meet, chaos can ensue since none of the people in either camp know the person by the other name.

For instance, a cousin, who was at that time a colonel in the Indian army, called my house and identified himself by his rank and his good name. My grandmother, convinced she had never heard of the man, hung up on him to his great consternation. The situation was eventually sorted out when my cousin called and gave us his pet name. To this day, my grandmother vehemently defends herself saying she could not have been expected to know the gentleman's real name.

Despite the fact that pet names are so commonly used, it is widely acknowledged that pet names do not suffice as people's real names. So, when one introduces oneself (especially in North India) another frequently asked, name-related question is, "Is that you real name?" This does not mean they are accusing your name of being a fake Gucci in the back of a truck on the wrong side of town. They are simply trying to find out if the name you have given them is the one they will find on your college degree and your horoscope (more on this in another post).

Clearly, names - good, real or pet are a big deal in Hinglish, and are the topic of many questions. To answer these seemingly simple questions, non-Hinglish speakers should remember the following: Your good name is your given name, and you will most definitely be asked for it at the beginning of any conversation with a new person. The shorter it is, the more likely it is that people will follow that question up with, "Is that your real name?"

When you confirm that your name is both good and real, the next question may be, "What is your pet name?" Be very careful what you divulge at this point. If you tell Hinglish speakers your nickname, they will, in a misguided attempt to demonstrate their fondness for you, allow your real, good name to fade into oblivion altogether too quickly.

W is for ...uh... Marriage

The word 'wedding' does not exist in Hinglish. It is replaced by the word 'marriage'. Marriage (not the institution) is a term that has such a firm foundation, that Hinglish-speakers would stare at you blankly if you ever mentioned the word 'wedding'.

Marriage (in Hinglish) has more uses than one would imagine - as in the following examples...

Are you coming to my sister's marriage? (Will you attend my cousin's wedding?) [...an explanation fro the change from sister to cousin will follow in due course]
Have you had your marriage? (Are you married?)
When was your marriage? (When did you marry?)
Where was your marriage function? (Where was the wedding?)
Was it in a marriage hall? (...an architectural monstrosity created primarily to host a wedding or two)

You may notice that all the above examples are questions - a tribute to the efforts of unrelenting Hinglish-speakers who don't really try to hide how inquisitive they are.

B is for backsides

Some people have vegetable patches in their backsides. Other people's backsides are exclusively reserved for their dogs. Backsides may be places where unused building material is stored or where people keep their garbage until the garbage collectors arrive. In office buildings, backsides are sometimes used for parking. Backsides and front sides differ because you do not want the general public to know what your backside looks like, but your front side is generally well-maintained and for public viewing.

Confused yet? Here's a clue: we are definitely not discussing anatomical parts!

The hindi word peeche is used to refer to the back of something as well as when discussing something that is behind another. Since the there is no differentiation in the usage of the words back and behind,  Hinglish speakers almost exclusively use the word back to discuss where something is located. And, if you can have a right-side and a left-side then, in all fairness, why not a backside and a frontside also?

Sometimes, the person takes the time to qualify which backside is being discussed i.e. The generator is in the backside of the house. This sentence is decidedly less confusing as one understands that a geographical location is being discussed. Backsides of buildings, houses, rooms and cupboards are common features in everyday conversation.

However, at other times,  the word backside is not qualified.  For instance, I once heard someone say, "I have onions growing in my backside." The use of the word backside in this manner can lead to some embarrassing misinterpretations for non-Hinglish speakers.

General rule of thumb: If the word picture that comes to mind when someone uses the word backside seems completely implausible, it probably is a case of literal translation. Pause, substitute behind the house, behind the office or in my backyard for backside, depending on which seems the most suitable, and try to reassess the situation.

P is for punctuation

Sentence structure is a huge problem in spoken Hinglish, but usually less so in written Hinglish. A few years ago, many signs in Bangalore were grammatically awry in some way, but recently I've had very little luck finding poorly lettered signs.

My new source of weird signs? Auto rickshaws!

I understand that commas, colons and semi colons are complicated to use. However, full-stops and capital letters are generally easier. We practice using them for many years. I think back to English grammar lessons in the third grade when we wrote the definition of a sentence a zillion times: "A sentence is a group of words arranged to make complete sense. A sentence begins with a capital letter and ends with a full-stop." And then I wonder what the guy who wrote the words for this sign was taught about sentence structure.

Apparently a picture is worth a thousand words! In this picture, the words say it all!

F is for Fans

In common parlance, a fan can be off-ed and a person can be in the act of offing a fan. And no, the fan in question is not the type of fan that supports Manchester United, and a person who wants to 'off the fan' or is in the process of 'offing the fan' does not want to murder said supporter of ManU. Fans are not just offed, sometimes one is also given an opportunity to 'on the fan'. This is not an instruction to perform feats worthy of a three-ring circus.

The fan, referred to in these contexts, is the garden variety of ceiling fan, which plays an important role in every Indian house, especially during the summer (i.e. 9 months of the year). Use of this humble, everyday object is one of the few ways the heat can be made bearable, and it is therefore  the subject of many Hinglish sentences. Instructions regarding fan-usage given by a Hinglish speaker to a non-Hinglish speaker can be the source of great confusion.

To clarify, requests to 'on a fan' or 'off a fan' mean that the person just wants the ceiling fan to be turned on or off. When given this instruction, look at the fan in the room and change its current state of rest or motion to the direct opposite.

Fan-related requests can be made more complicated when you are told to 'raise' or 'lower' the fan. These feats, which seem to require the help of an electrician and a builder, are simple requests to turn the regulator to increase or decrease the speed of the fan.

You may also be requested to 'fasten the fan', 'speed the fan' or 'increase the fan'. For queries regarding these instructions see 'raise the fan'.  Instructions to 'slow the fan' or 'decrease the fan' are similar to 'lower the fan' but are far less frequently used only because the average summer temperature in the country does not permit it.

The culprit in these fan-tastic situations? My favourite, literal translation!

E is for explanations

Literal translations are my favorite Hinglish crime. In Hinglish, people are constantly being explained. I explain you. You explain me. We explain them.

A Hinglish rookie may be forgiven for thinking we, as a nation, are in the midst of a collective existential crisis, or that our very existence is particularly confusing to those around us. But more seasoned observers know that this particular "fox pause" occurs simply because the preposition "to" does not exist as a separate word in any Indian language.

Mujhe samjhao, literally, "explain me," is an extremely common occupational hazard for your everyday literal translator.

It would be misleading to leave you with the impression that all Hinglish speakers are chronic preposition droppers. To be fair, I tell to you that some are extremely diligent about overusing prepositions in every possible way, while others look forward for substituting suitable prepositions with unsuitable ones.

L is also for Life

...in its various stages.

In Hinglish, Life does not just start at birth and end at death. A pregnant mother 'is expecting'. Expecting what? ...a boy? ...a girl? ...a child? ...Led Zeppelin to reunite? None of these. She is just expecting. This is not a shortened form of the fact that the mother (and not both parents) 'is expecting a child' (as it is supposed to mean when used in English). It is an expression to indicate 'the state of being pregnant'. This paints a picture of a woman just sitting around, waiting.

When she has finished waiting, she 'delivers.' Again, this is more like delivering someone from evil than actually giving birth to a child - at least in spoken Hinglish. What really happens, is that she has 'an issue' (pronounced e-shoe... more like a sneeze than computer footwear). This is a term that is derived from 13th century English, and died with 13th century English, but lives in modern Hinglish. This gets confusing when you meet someone for the first time, and one of their first questions they ask you is, "Do you have any issues?", or, "How many issues do you have?"

Hinglish stays with a person till after he dies. He may 'expire' (like a box of bad prunes), or he may 'pass' - not 'pass-on' or 'pass-away.'

L is for Literal Translations

A Hinglish phrase, commonly heard at offices is, "Let's sit for it" or better yet, "Let's sit ON it." This does not refer to an actual seat, the act of sitting or the desire to not participate (sit this one out).  What the person using the phrase really means is, "Let's work on it" or, "Let's have a meeting about that," or "Let's discuss the matter."

One might wonder how the phrase sit for/sit on found its way into the ever expanding Hinglish dictionary. The origin is quite clear. It is a literal translation of the Hindi phrase, "beht sakte hain?" meaning, "Can we sit?" which could be used to ask for another person's time in any of the situations mentioned above.

The problem arises because in translating sentences literally, the actual meaning is lost. Of course, this is not a problem that is unique to English. Any person learning a new language is bound to find themselves in this situation since one language will almost always be dominant. Dominant in this situation refers to the language in which one thinks and feels.

On that note. I must go do some sleep.

O is for over-regularisation

We have all been victims of the tip-of-the-tongue (TOTT) phenomenon - when you know what you want to say but just cannot recall the word. This problem is exacerbated when the language you are trying to speak is not your first or your second language. Instead of having multiple synonyms at your disposal as you would in your first language, you only have a few options. Worse still, your understanding of the word is based on a literal translation from another language. And sometimes you recall a word which essentially expresses your intent, but you cannot remember the form.

The solution? Over-regularis(z)e.

For instance, what do you say when you want a process hastened? If English is not your first language, the word hastened or a suitable synonym probably will not occur to you immediately, so then you must think of other words to express your meaning. You know that "fast" somewhat expresses what you mean, but isn't the right form. In your quest to use as few words as possible, you try to shorten "to happen faster" but can't remember how. You start to think of similar words and remember that when you add -en to a word it can sometimes be a verb - when something must be made softer, you soften it; when something must be made shorter, you shorten it. Sooo, when something must happen faster you...fasten it? The sentence comes out as, "We must fasten the process."

How does one explain that to fasten something, literally means to attach it firmly to something else and that it is not, in fact, related to speed in any way?

...and it begins with Z

When the British left, they took with them treasures, but gave India the railways. They took spices and gave cricket. They took several kingdoms, and left behind a few countries. They also took their English, and left behind 'Hinglish' (popularly the name given to a hybrid of Hindi and English, but in this case, the wreckage of the Language of the Queen).

Now, this 'Hinglish' can be found prevalent all over India - not just in the states where Hindi is the most common (... actually, the second most - after the traditional 'Hinglish') language spoken. This 'Hinglish' unifies India in a way that only a Sachin Tendulkar century can. It doesn't matter what a person's 'Mother Tongue' is (every Indian MUST have a Mother Tongue - a language that he/she literally belongs to. This can never be 'English'. No Indian would ever accept that another Indian's Mother Tongue is English.), the dialect of 'Hinglish' remains the same across the country (...soon to beat Mandarin as the most widely spoken language in the world).

A very brief example to set the ball rolling. "A" (used as an article).

In spoken Hinglish, the article, 'a' is pronounced just like the alphabet 'a'. For example, in the sentence: I saw a house, the word 'a' is pronounced "AY". As much as I would love to analyse the origins of such deviations from English, I would like to point out that this mispronunciation is one of the most common in Hinglish, and I'm fairly certain I have heard this at least once almost every day of my life.

I must now take a nap.