How to Speak Anglo 101

The other day I was talking to my boyfriend Eric, about having to get home in time for a funeral. He thinks being late is one of my many talents.

"Johnny, (Yes, I call him that, totally unrelated, I know!) musint I reach from Thevara? The traffic is pretty bad in the evening!"

Before I could finish he laughed so loud I swear the whole of Fort Cochin heard him. For a moment I didn't really know why. He tends to laugh a lot. But then he said, "Say that I again... Musint?" (Creolized version of mustn’t, our grammatical use of which can only be summarized as horrendous)  

Yes. I am a student of Literature and if there are any teachers from the English Department of Christ University reading this they'd probably want to, in the words of one of my dear professors, 'Thup' (spit) on me; but I’m also Anglo, and we talk like this, A LOT!

But I don’t think there's anything to be embarrassed about, at least, not anymore.

I studied in Christ University, Bangalore, and on my first week I didn’t speak a word to anyone. Everyone was so proper, speaking with such finesse, with all their polished Ps and Qs, annunciating their 'tehs' and 'dehs' and 'ers'. These Bangalore people speak with such class; and there I was going, "Ey, where to get books, men? You know eh?"

Three years later and now I too can talk all Bangalore types "Yes, deconstruction, Marxism, feminism and so on, have transformed the idea of culture and untethered it from explicitly nationalist leanings." Yes, I speak fancy. And yet whenever I'm back home I can flip the switch and go, *insert Anglo Aunty sing-song voice*

"Aiyo! There, I went to bloody thatti and fall… you be careful eh, child!"

(Aiyo! is a very south Indian expression for ‘Oh no!’ and thatti is the Malayalam equivalent of, trip or stumble)

We've been speaking this way for decades. After all, we are a fabulous mix of two very different worlds. We took the English that our forefathers spoke and creolized it; and based on your family tree you'll have a few bits and pieces of Portuguese or Dutch thrown in here and there as well.

The end result is a very unique, delightfully sing-song kind of dialect with a lot of ‘My child’s and ‘Bloody’s (pronounced bleddy) and ‘Oh Jesus’es thrown in for added effect. The Queen’s English went for a toss the day they packed up and left, but hey, it’s so much fun, to speak and even more to listen to that my boyfriend and I now do it for sport. One of our favorite words is pariah, but we Anglos pronounce it as parrier. The word is used to generally denote bad or unacceptable behavior (“There, don’t show your pariah nature eh.”), just as something to call someone (“Come here, you pariah!”) or to refer to the locals, essentially, the ‘other’ Indians. (“Don’t act like a pariah.” And “That looks pariahotic!”) mostly in the last-mentioned context.

I grew up with a bunch of boys who got more and more creative with their lingo over time and thinking back on the conversations they used to have is very entertaining. Firstly apart from saying things like ‘bugger off!’ they used to call each other ‘bugger’. “Bugger come here… Don’t act smart you bugger… oh cute bugger he is, men?” So I googled the word, and according to the Oxford Dictionary it means; A person who commits buggery a.k.a bestiality. Don’t think they knew that. They don’t really read so even after I do post this they still won’t know what they’re oh-so-fondly calling each other.

Anyway, where was I? Yes, their conversations. They used to call me a cutlet. And when I was chubby it became potato cutlet (a popular Anglo dish, a round fried ball of mashed potato filled minced meat). I recently found out that in Fort Cochin, their version of cutlet is biscuit. Yes, they called people biscuits, not because they’re sweet, but apparently because “All they are fit to do is eat.” *face palm*

So when we’d go out to play I’d ask them if I could play with them and there would be two responses to that question, it was either: “Play eh? Go put mat and sleep, you play and fall and all and your Mumma will paste us” (paste = beat), or my personal favourite, “Scratch and smell!” (Don’t ask me what it means, it’s disgusting. Essentially it’s their version of ‘dream on’). There was also the popular threat of “There, bloody kicking and oppers I’ll give you eh…” (Oppers = anglicised version of Appam, a UFO-looking Kerala dish that’s eaten with curry.)

We also considerably shorten our sentences. It’s like our very own Morse code. Like, “Saalt Ghaat?” (‘Salt got?’) which translates to: “Can I please borrow some salt.” And “Mama Ghaat?” which is, “Is your mother at home?” plus the usual “Take and go.” = “You may take it and leave”, “Bring and come”, “Roll and fall” = physically impossible unless you're some bloody acrobat, it just means ‘to fall’. (They love the extra masala) “Don’t lie and die” which actually means, ‘don’t make such a big deal/fuss out of this.’ “Uncle’s name whatoly?” which is “Uncle, what is your name?” And one you’ll probably hear the most, “Aaw… where going?”

The final lesson on ‘How to Speak Anglo 101’, is our obsessive, compulsive, excessive use of the word ‘no’ and ‘men’ in the course of a sentence. “Aiyo! That no, morning that bloody Pammy’s that child came home no, and sat there child. Didn’t bloody go, men. My Jesus! Mustn’t cook? Then no, Johnny got angry and told that shit to go. Bloody born for antichrist he is men. How’s it?! Mother is also like that, no.” and that is just the beginning of it. Depending on how annoyed the speaker is at the time and the intensity of the subject, the number of ‘no’s and ‘men’s increase.

Laughed and died, no? Don’t bloody mock us eh, hold your tongue (popular usage for ‘don’t you dare say it!’) or one rap (slap) you’ll get. But if want then come off home and I’ll make one ball curry and give and we can sit and talk like this full day, men. What say?

Don’t want?

Ah then go! Want will do! (Only if you want to)

P.S: I forgot to mention that Eric shouldn't have been laughing at all! He’s bloody Anglo too! But I’m glad he did. Inspired me to write this post, no. I love you, heard!