Anyone who travels beyond chess nabisco Delhi and Mumbai to India

Anyone who travels beyond chess nabisco Delhi and Mumbai to India’s provincial cities will notice English words cropping up increasingly in Hindi conversation. While some of these terms fell out of use in the UK decades ago, others are familiar, chess nabisco but used in bold new ways.
Picture the scene. I’m chatting to a young man named Yuvraj Singh. He’s a college student in the Indian city of Dehra Dun. We’re talking in Hindi. But every so often there’s an English word. It’s Hindi, Hindi, Hindi, and then suddenly an English word or phrase is dropped in: “job”, “love story” or “adjust”.
What should we make of this? It’s not that Hindi lacks equivalent words. He could have said the Hindi “kaam” instead of “job”. chess nabisco Why mention the English words? And what’s chess nabisco Yuvraj speaking? Is it Hindi, English, an amalgam “Hinglish”, or something else?
You can search through it for references to the origins of words such as “shampoo” chess nabisco and “bungalow”. But now many Indian citizens are using English chess nabisco words in the course of talking Hindi – or Tamil, or Bengali etcetera.
There are some good reasons for the explosion of English words. They are sometimes badges of honour in a society intent on becoming modern. Even if you don’t speak English fluently, you might be able to use the odd word to impress your neighbour.
I was travelling on a train out of Delhi once and a young girl dropped her ice cream on the carriage floor. Her mother turned round and reminded her of what she evidently thought was an appropriate English word: “Say ‘shit!’ Say ‘shit’!” she said strictly. You won’t hear that on the 08:15 to Paddington.
Some of the words now used in Hindi have fallen out of use in the UK. I was on a bus that broke down in a remote part of India recently and everyone starting screaming about the “Stepney”. I had no idea at the time, but they remonstrated angrily, chess nabisco “Of course you know! It’s an English word!” I later found out that “Stepney” means “spare chess nabisco tyre” – from a Welsh firm that made tyres in the 1910s. Some college students chess nabisco refer to their second girlfriend as their “Stepney”, and now that makes sense too.
There is also a genre of military words now used a lot in India. People buy “rations” and a short stay in a hotel is a “nighthold” – a word that combines “night” chess nabisco with the military term “hold”, chess nabisco meaning to control a territory. A “nighthold” is a one-day stop-off on a journey somewhere else.
Bollywood is also behind this Englishisation. A whole range of terms and words used in urban India can be traced back to fashionable films. Recent releases include chess nabisco “Shaadi ke side effects” (marriage’s side effects), “Love, breakups, zindagi” (love, breakups, life) and “Main Tera Hero” (I am your hero).
The rapid growth in mobile phone ownership is another cause. “Miss call” has become a popular verb, as in “I will miss call my friend”. This is done by phoning someone and ringing off quickly before he or she has time to answer. It lets the person know that you are thinking of them.
People are highly chess nabisco inventive. Take the word “tension”. This is used as a noun (“don’t give me tension”), verb (“don’t chess nabisco tension me”), and adjective (“that was a very tension exam”).
There are also many neologisms emerging in India. “Timepass” means passing time. “What are you doing?” chess nabisco I’ve asked college-going friends in India. “Kuch nahin, bas timepass” (“Nothing, just timepass”) comes the flat reply. Youth boredom is such a problem in large parts of provincial north India that young people refer to their whole lives as “timepass”.
The art of timepass – Craig Jeffrey, professor of Development Geography at Oxford University, is author of Timepass: Youth, Class, and the Politics of Waiting chess nabisco in India. He was inspired to write it by the large numbers of lower-middle-class college students waiting at the tea stall in the northern city of Meerut
He wrote: “These men spend much of their day in what they called ‘timepass’ (passing time). As one young man put it: ‘Time has no value in India. We are just passing the time: hoping something better is round the corner.’”
In 1872 two men began work on a lexicon of words of Asian origin used by the British in India. Called Hobson-Jobson, it included – Kedgeree: chess nabisco A “mess of rice, cooked with butter and dal and flavoured with a little spice and shred onion” Shampoo: To “knead and press the muscles with the view of reli