Vincenti Dabitur

My old school made the front page of Times of India in Pune recently for winning the local school athletic championship for 60 years in a row, sending me back in time like a javelin thrown by one of the many star athletes the school birthed.
I was never a star athlete, falling woefully short in the high jump trials and running miserably out of breath during the middle distance heats. It didn’t matter though, St Vincent’s High School bred the kind of loyalty and for-the-greater-glory-ness you only see in movies. So I cheered and fed off the glory.

Language of the slaves

And then there’s my other favourite word - vernacular. The reason why I like etymology is because it corrects perspective. The Indian English press loves the word and uses it liberally when referring to the local language press. Local language press, please note, is the right usage. Vernacular comes from the Latin, or Greek (can’t remember) word verna, which means slave. The word, therefore, was used by colonisers, the British in particular, to describe the languages spoken by the people native to the lands they colonised. Vernacular means language of the slaves. Be careful, therefore, when you use it.

With all due respect

‘With all due respect’ - when you hear those words, flee. The phrase is a wolf in sheep’s clothing and the speaker is about to tear into you, generally, with a deep, offensive, and here’s the key, personal remark. Have you ever heard someone say something nice, when they have started their sentence with, ‘With all due respect’? Didn’t think so. It’s anesthesia before the lethal injection. So, I have scant respect for people who use it. If you’re going to kill me, at least, with all due respect, be man or woman to do it in cold blood.

Lingo bingo

As an ardent student of the English language, I am more often than not studying context and innuendo of dialogue, whether overheard at a pub, in a movie, lyrics of a song or at work. Etymology delights me and if I led a more disciplined life I undoubtedly would be sporting a tweed jacket studying, and or teaching, the same in some university. One thesis would be on the use of the word vernacular – generally a racist and derogative noun. The other, which struck me off late, is the use of the phrase – ‘With all due respect’.
(To be contd)

Sub-prime investments

As the world of economy meltsdown in the afterglow of the heat generated by the US subprime crisis, working for a business publication allows me to see money disappear in terms I have never quite noticed before.
At times like this I am grateful my money is not invested in stocks or commodities. My money is invested in people. And the payback is not always monetary, but very tangible. However, I have discovered that most of the people I’ve invested with are the equivalent of what the risk market would call – sub-prime. High returns, but very, very risky.

Rain driven

I don’t drive here. I don’t have a licence. It’s below my dignity to go for two months of learner’s lessons and unlimited tests, just because I’m Indian, to get one. Cabbies are my friends now. They work seven days a week from 6 am to midnight. They have to, or else the payment structure of the cab companies will not allow them to make any money. When it rains though, the taxi companies forbid them from driving for fear of car damage. That’s the only time they get the day off. They pray for rain. Nature sometimes answers.

Oh,4

My boy is 4. After terrible twos and difficult threes, it’s time for the Oh,4s.
It’s the age where your child’s sole purpose in life is to embarrass the life out of you. So everywhere you go, that exclamative phonetic delight, Oh!, is your best friend. Oh! Sorry about that. Oh! Please excuse him. Oh! I wish God would strike me dead. The key to surviving this time is mastering the tone of the Oh!. What follows then is the meek acceptance that the brat you’ve unleashed on the world is indeed yours. And empathy from some victims.

Taking the piss

I should have written four days ago, but a mean cocktail of post-holiday blues and two heads of state, Bush and Sarkozy, visiting, allowed me to procrastinate. But, here I am, after a very indulgent Christmas and New Year, a gut-busting wedding and chillin’ with the boyz back home.
The Gods are taking a piss on the UAE and the shiny Emirates are almost drowned. Makes you wonder how billions of dollars can be invested into an infrastructure that can’t handle what Punekars would call a drizzle. Given, it’s a desert. But it rains even in the desert.