Wednesday, June 29, 2005

Lost in translation... from English to English...

I sometimes can't help but wonder the fate that would befall poor Lynne Truss if she ever finds her way to the desi land.
Not only does she have to tolerate the spineless pandering of a typical desi, but worse, listen to grammatically incorrect flavour of whatever is left of English in this land. And if fate has it that she meets a techie in the vicinity of bangalore who makes sure that s/he rolls every R, but is quite oblivious to the other mistakes that gush forth at the rate of 3 grammatical and 2 semantic mistakes per sentence with liberal sprinklings of hindi/tamil all over the place, she would be tempted perpertate much more than a symbolic act of defiance with a permanent marker, and would probablyl go on to throw up all over the place.

If the liberal use of apostrophes can drive a person crazy, sentence constructs can drive him over the edge, steal an XM-29, and happily pump round after round of bullets blindly in random directions, and once the ammo runs out, proceed to buy another pack and empty them too.

A popular outlet in Bangalore says:
Latest fashion dresses for men's women's boy's and girl's
And for God's sake, it wasn't even an undergarments outlet.

A leisurely walk along Hosur Road would have driven out the British faster than the Mahatma, who unfortunately, was a stickler.

Side sing Package trip to Ooty, Kodai, Mysore and Coorg
No, this is not a safari of the tribal heartlands of Kodai and Ooty where tribals line up on the either sides of the road to sing a soulful song on thier favourite two-headed dog-demon that kills innocent unwary tribals, and no, it is not the pot they smoke before killing snakes, though you might actually end up buying it. It is not a courier service either, as the package trip might suggest. What the board means by wisely tearing out superfluous letters is that they offer packaged tours for sight seeing. Parsimony at its best, I would say.

Further down the road, right next to the real estate agents who also rent out VCD's and DVD's, past several hotels that surprisingly don't provide lodging, and offer interesting dishes on the lines of Spinach omlet and Mashroom Manjuri, you would see a board that reads in bold letters

Child cutting done here

You pass out for a second, regain consciousness, shake your head in disbelief, rub your eyes just in case, see the board and promptly faint again. You are brought back to reality by the bakery owner next door who incidentally sells Cocanet balls and explains that it is a barber shop and they give children a haircut here. Relieved, you ask for a soft drink to bring down your heart rate. The shop owner gives you a look that is usually reserved for 25 year old men who run down the road screaming out loud that there is a tyrannosaurus rex in his underpants. You say 'Pepsi' and his face promptly brightens up and he exclaims, Ah, cooling, sir!.

You finally get a feeling that there are a few things that you don't understand, and the term cooling is one of them. If science can't explain cooling, there isn't much that you can trust science with. The shopkeeper then smiles, extends his hands and says

Myself Pandey sir, Dayal Pandey

Who is Myself Pandey here? you ask, after looking around to confirm that there are only two people in the vicinity. You are yourself, fine!; he is Dayal Pandey, great! but where is this Myself Pandey? You bend and look under the table to see if you can find this elusive Myself Pandey.

No, he isn't there. Quite a strange name for a person- a reflexive/emphatic substitute for a name. Interesting! So thinking, you go on to finish your pepsi. But Dayal Pandey is not amused.

You are comedy sir. Mein Dayal Pandey hoon, myself

You couldn't stop the violent spasm that makes you splash the remaining pepsi on the walls of the shop. Between the frightful coughs you also find time to wonder what makes you a comedy!

At this moment, your survival instincts take over. You suddenly don't want to stand near a shop that indulges in paedicide and to talk to a reflexively referring individual. You grope for your purse, pay him and rush out. As you come out of the shop, your eyes happen to notice that they sell Grill Sandwhich, shudder and run for your life.

5 comments:

Sriram said...

LMAO!!!

Ambar said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Ambar said...

she would be tempted perpertate much more than a symbolic act of defiance with a permanent marker, and would probablyl go on to throw up all over the place.

WTF??? Are all the bloopers in this text deliberate?

Ambar said...

You've been tagged
http://ambarthejovian.blogspot.com/2005/06/biblio-tagged.html

Vaidya said...

dei.,
u forgot
u haffffffffto do it and u talk abt all this.
-mani