The Pukka Linguistic Legacy Of The Raj
Phoning Bangalore call centres, our hero marvels at India’s contribution to English
By Tom Shields
http://www.sundayherald.com/42695
The Buffer has been spending hours on the telephone to Bangalore. This is what happens when your computer is destroyed by lightning and you have to contact your computer manufacturer, your broadband internet provider, and your home insurance company. Almost every enquiry ended up routed to a call centre in this Indian city. The companies concerned may be pleased to know that the services provided by their Indian employees was excellent. There were, of course, occasional communication problems but, when I spoke more slowly and in less of a Glasgow accent, everything was okay-dokey.
Patrick, the bloke taking my call in Bangalore, seemed to understand okay-dokey. I’m pretty sure his colleague Eric, who was guiding me through the final steps of getting my e-mail to work, knew what I meant when I said “Bob’s your uncle” as our session reached a successful conclusion.
My only problem with dealing with Bangalore is the inherent racism in a system where a bloke should have to call himself Patrick when his name might be Pramesh. I chose Pramesh from a dictionary of Indian names because it means “master of accurate knowledge” which pretty well describes what a smart bloke Patrick/Pramesh was.
I would have asked Patrick and Eric, and Alan and Mary whom I also talked to last week, what their real names were. But it would probably only have got them into trouble with their supervisors if they told me.
It may be that some companies prefer the use of Western names for their staff as part of some fiction in which they are pretending that they haven’t really exported thousands of British jobs to India. They are on to plums, as they probably don’t say in Bangalore.
The rich sub-continental accents are a dead giveaway. I loved listening to the rounded tones as Mary (who might actually be Madhu or “honey”) informed me that the lightning strike which had reduced my computer to year zero was a “natural calamity”.
One of the positive aspects of dealing with call centres is the chance to hear so many mellifluous accents: British Telecom in Geordieland, Microsoft in the Republic of Ireland, and Sky TV in West Lothian. But Bangalore is the business.
Talking to Bangalore also gives the opportunity to celebrate the contribution India made to the English language during the years of empire. I am sure Pramesh would not take it as an insult if I said we would have to get a jildi on, as in hurry up. But I have too much respect for my computer wallahs ever to say that. Especially to one as pukka as Pramesh.
It would be nice to engage in some leisurely chat. About my bungalow (from the Hindi word bangla for a single-storey house) or how my garden is a jungle, also a Hindi word. Working from home a lot, the Buffer is often to be found still wearing pyjamas, from Urdu “pay-jamah”, literally “leg garment”.
After a breakfast of kedgeree on the veranda (Hindi via Portuguese) it would be time for a shower and shampoo (from Hindi champoo). Then it’s on with the khaki jodhpurs but not the cummerbund (from the Hindi and Urdu cummerbund) and get out for a walk. Perhaps stopping off for a cup of char in a café and a puff at a cheroot, if Glasgow city councillors haven’t unilaterally banned smoking.
The anti-smoking lobby has become something of a juggernaut – “an overwhelming, advancing force that crushes or seem to crush everything in its path” (from the Hindi jaganath). Smokers are now pariahs, to use a good old Tamil word.
Since the boys and girls in the Bangalore call centres are encouraged to keep up to speed with topical talking points, they should be able to discuss England’s progress in the Euro 2004 football tournament. They could opine on the relative merits of the TV pundits, which word is derived from the Hindi pandit meaning learned or wise man. Your average football pundit is far from wise but that Alan Hansen is a bit of a guru, from the Hindi for heavyweight teacher.
It would be pleasant to chat to the Bangalore folk about their home town. It is called the Garden City and looks pretty fab. It has moderate weather all year round, although Patrick told me a couple of days ago it was pretty cold with the temperature hardly getting above 27˚C.
Bangalore is cosmopolitan kind of place and the Buffer can see himself hanging about sipping lassi and enjoying a cool kulfi. If the accent isn’t too much of a barrier, it might be nice to get a job in a call centre.
If you phone the call centre you might get a bloke who is trying to sound like Peter Sellers in Goodness Gracious Me but who still has a broad Glasgow accent and who says his name is Tom but is really Timin (meaning large fish) then that will be the Buffer.
I would discuss employment prospects with Patrick in Bangalore but it is expensive at 50p a minute. That’s quite a lot of loot. Or lut as we say in Hindi.
Actually, the Buffer’s word of the week is manpo-kei. You will doubtlessly already be aware of this Japanese expression which literally means “10,000 steps to fitness”.
You will also be aware that June is Feet Fit For Life month. Christine Skinner, of the Caley Uni health faculty and the Society of Chiropodists and Podiatrists, has been encouraging the Buffer to take great strides in pursuit of fitness. I had hoped Christine would equip me with new feet, knees, and hips unencumbered with gout and wear and tear. I got a pedometer instead to measure how close I get to the magical figure of 10,000 steps.
Most people only manage between 2000 and 6000 steps a day, so my first total of 8460 was not bad for a cove with a sedentary lifestyle. A nurse of our acquaintance, also on the manko-pei path, did 10,146 (which is more than five miles) in the course of an eight-hour shift.
The next day’s total was only 6246. This was not down to lack of commitment but to the arrival of the Glasgow rainy season. The relentless downpour forced this potential pedestrian into using taxis, which are always a pleasure, and the Underground, which is not. (Have I mentioned before how expensive, dirty, smelly and customer-unfriendly the Glasgow subway is?)
Christine, our podiatric guru, points out just how good walking is for you. There are the obvious benefits of losing weight, reducing the risk of developing heart disease, and helping to build healthy bones, muscles and joints.
Less obvious plus points include reducing the risk of developing diabetes mellitus, and colon and breast cancer. Walking reduces depression and anxiety, presumably by keeping you out of the Glasgow Undergound.
The Feet Fit For Life starter pack contains many handy hints, although the Buffer draws the line at putting Vaseline between the toes and taking up ballroom dancing. The main piece of advice is not to increase your steps immediately to 10,000 a day. They recommend a target of 500 extra steps a week.
The Buffer has another target. The pedometer device is attached to the wearer’s belt. The ambition is one day to be able to see the pedometer without delving beneath the barriga. That is another word of the week and is Spanish for beer belly. This ambition might best be achieved by taking some extra steps past the pub.
We are grateful for some linguistic input from the readers. In our analysis recently of the European Parliament, we suggested that many of the 750 members of this institution hablar mierda, parler merde, but we didn’t know what the German is for talking ****e.
A reader or two said the phrase is sprechen scheisse. But we prefer the suggestion by Bettina J Blanke from Laurencekirk of “Dünnschiss labern” which, she says, translates literally as “blether diarrhoea”.