Sea of Poppies (81 page)

bunow/ bunnow/ banao (*The Glossary)
: ‘This is, as Sir Henry rightly observes, one of the rare Hind. verbs to be adapted into English. But even after it had made the crossing it retained something of its original sense, which was more “to build” than “to make” – for one could certainly never say, as above, “
bunow
the crossing”.'

+burkmundauze/barkandaz
: ‘A term that was useful mainly for its imprecision, for it could, when necessary, be applied to any of that great
paltan
of
paiks
,
piyadas
,
latheeals
,
kassidars
,
silahdars
and other armed guards, retainers and sentries who once thronged our streets. The gatekeepers and watchmen whose duties kept them stationary formed a slightly different kind of
paltan
, composed of
chowkidars
,
durwauns
and the like.'

+burra/bara
: ‘I am convinced that this is another word that has entered English through a nautical route,
burra/bara
being the common Laskari term for the tallest of a ship's masts – the main.' See also
dol
.

Burrampooter (*The Glossary)
: ‘This is merely the
anglice
, blessedly shortlived, of “Brahmaputra”.'

+bustee/basti
: ‘In my childhood we used this word only to mean “neighbourhood” or “settlement”, with no pejorative implication attached. The English derivative, on the other hand, was used to mean “Black Town” or “native area”, being applied only to the areas where Bengalis lived. Strange to think that it was in this derogatory
guise that it was passed back to Hind. and Bengali, and is now commonly used in the sense of “slum”.'

butcha/bacha (*The Barney Book)
: ‘A word for “child” that will undoubtedly migrate through the open windows of the nursery.' Neel was wrong about this.

buy-em-dear
: See
bayadère
.

buzz
: See
shoke
.

+caftan/qaftan
: See
choga
.

caksen/coxen (*Roebuck)
: ‘It is puzzling that Roebuck lists this as the Laskari word for “coxswain”, since the pronunciation of it is indistinguishable from the English.'

caleefa/khalifa (*The Glossary)
: See
bobbachy
.

+calico
: ‘Some dictionaries award this word a Malayali lineage, since this kind of cotton cloth was said to be a product of the Malabar coast. This is utter
buckwash
, for the word
calico
self-evidently comes from “Calicut”, which is a place name introduced by Europeans: were the word derived from the town's Malayalam name the cloth would be known, surely, as “kozhikodo”.'

calputtee (*Roebuck)
: ‘The Laskari for “caulker”, this was a
mystery
who found little employment on Indian vessels, which were generally rabbeted rather than caulked.'

carcanna/karcanna (*The Glossary)
: Already in Neel's lifetime this long-pedigreed English word (from Hind.
kar-khana
, ‘work-place' or ‘work-shop') was slowly yielding to the term ‘factory' – a lexical scandal in Neel's ears, which were still accustomed to hearing that word used to designate the residence of a ‘factor' or ‘agent'. But it was not for nostalgic reasons alone that he mourned the passing of
carcanna/karcanna
: he foresaw that its wreckage would also carry into oblivion many of those who had once worked in these places of manufacture – for example the factory-clerks known as
carcoons
. It was in mourning the fate of this word that the unknown wordy-wallah penned his comments on logocide.

carcoon (*The Glossary and *The Barney-Book)
: See above.

chabee (*The Glossary)
: In an uncharacteristic display of restraint, Neel refused to enter into the controversy over whether the Portuguese word for ‘key' had set sail for England from Portugal or Hind.

+ chabutra / chabutter
: See
bowly / bowry
.

+ chaprasi / chuprassy
: See
dufter / daftar
.

+charpoy
: As noted earlier (see
bandar
), Neel was of the opinion that words,
unlike human beings, are less likely to survive the rigors of migration if they travel as couples: in any pair of synonyms one is sure to perish. How, then, was he to account for the journey of those eminently successful synonyms,
charpoy
and
cot
(both of which, un-beknownst to him, were to receive the
Oracle
's imprimatur)? Neel was clearly annoyed by this anomaly – (‘Has Blatty no words for the comforts of the bed, that it must steal so wilfully from us?') – but he did not fail to recognize the threat that was posed to his pet theory by these paired words. ‘English, no less than the languages of Hind., has many reasons to be grateful to the lascars, and the gift of the word
cot
(from Hind.
khât
) is not the least of them. There can be little doubt that this word entered the English language through a nautical route: it is my conviction that
khat
was the first Laskari word for “hammock” and that
jhula/jhoola
only came into use when the original was confiscated by their
malums
(vide
the Admiral
's definition of
cot
: “a wooden bed-frame, suspended from the beams of a ship for the officers, between decks”). These
cots
were clearly more comfortable than ordinary hammocks, for they were soon passed down to ships' infirmaries, for the benefit of the sick and the wounded. This, by extension, is the sense in which the word was swept into the main current of the English language, being adopted first as a name for the swinging cribs of the nursery. We see thus that contrary to appearances,
cot
and
charpoy
are no more synonyms than are “cradle” and “bedstead”. Nor indeed are they synonyms even in Hind., for I am convinced that
charpai
was originally applied to all four-legged pieces of furniture (in the precise sense of the Hind.
char-pai
, “four-legged”) in order to distinguish them from such objects as had only three legs (
tin-pai
or
tipai
– from which, as Sir Henry rightly observes, descended those small tables known as
teapoys
in English). The confusing term
sea-poy
, however, is merely a variant spelling of
sepoy
and has nothing whatsoever to do with legs or seasickness. The ghost of this peculiar misconception is yet to be laid, however, as is evident from a story I was recently told about a young lieutenant who came to be separated from his troops while boarding a ship. It is said that after crying out in alarm – “I've lost my
sea-poys
!” – he was taken further aback at being handed a
balty
and some smelling salts.'

charter
: ‘Although the
Oracle
makes no mention of it, I am convinced that this verb was often used in the same sense as the Hind. verb
chatna
, from which English received the resplendent
chutney
, “good to lick” (not to be confused with
chatty/chatta
, which lascars were accustomed to apply to earthen vessels). The cant term
charterhouse
is frequently applied to houses of ill-repute.'

chatty/chatta (*the Admiral, *Roe-buck)
: See
charter
.

+chawbuck/chábuk
: ‘This word, so much more expressive than “whip”, was almost as much a weapon as the object it designated. That it should be among the few Hind. words that found a verbal use in English is scarcely a matter of surprise, considering how often it fell from the sahibs' lips. When so used, the proper form for the past participle is
chawbuck't
. The derived form
chawbuckswar
, “whip-rider”, was considered
a great compliment among hard-driving horsemen.'

chawbuckswar (*The Glossary)
: See above.

+cheese
: Neel was no visionary in predicting the eventual incorporation of this derivative of Hind.
chiz
, ‘thing', into the
Oracle
, for the use of it in such sentences as ‘this cheroot is the real
cheese
' was common enough in his day. However, its role in such locutions as ‘the
Burra Cheese
' would undoubtedly have come as a surprise.

chicken/chikan (*The Barney-Book)
: ‘The closely-worked embroidery of Oudh; from which the cant expression “chicken-worked”, frequently used to describe those who had perforce to live with a
bawhawder ma'am-sahib
.'

+chin-chin (*The Barney-Book)
: ‘Greetings (from which
chin-chin-joss
: “worship”).'

chin-chin-joss (*The Glossary)
: See
chin-chin
.

chingers (*The Barney-Book)
: ‘Curious that Barrère & Leland imagine this word to have entered the English language through the gypsy dialect. It was quite commonly used in
bobachee-connahs
, for
choolas
had always to be lit with
chingers
(from Hind.
chingare
). I have even heard it used in the sentence “The
chingers
flew”.'

Chin-kalan (*The Glossary)
: ‘Strange as it seems today, this was indeed the name by which lascars were accustomed to speak of the port of Canton.'

chints/chinti (*The Glossary, *The Barney-Book)
: ‘This word for ants and insects was doomed by its resemblance to the more common
chintz
(painted
kozhikodoes
)'.

+chit/chitty
: ‘A most curious word, for despite the fact that it comes from the Hind.
chitthi
, ‘letter,' it was never applied to any missive entrusted to the
dawk
. It had always to be delivered by hand, never by post, and preferably by a
chuprassy
, never by a
dawk-wallah
or
hurkaru
.'

chitchky (*The Glossary)
: Neel was convinced that this descendant of the Bengali word
chhechki
had a brilliant future as a migrant, predicting that it would even be ennobled as a verb, since English had no equivalent term for this technique of cooking. Searching vainly for a palatable meal in the East End, he once wrote: ‘Why do none of these lascars ever think of setting up inns and hostelries where they can serve
chitckied
cabbage with slivered whiting to Londoners? Would they not profit from the great
goll-maul
that would thus be created?' He would have been greatly saddened to see this elegant word replaced by the clumsy locution ‘stir-fried'.

+chittack
: A measure of weight, equivalent to one ounce, seventeen penny-weights, twelve grains troy.

+chobdar
: ‘To have one was a great sign of prestige, since a mace-bearer was a rare luxury. I still remember how the poor Raja of Mukhpora, even when facing ruin, could not bear to let his
chobdar
go.'

+choga
(see
banyan
): Neel was pessimistic about the future of this word, which he believed would be overwhelmed by its Turkish rival,
caftan
.

+ chokey / choker / choakee / choky / chowki
: ‘If an exchange of words be-tokens a joining of experience, then it would appear that prisons are the principal hinge between the people of Hind. and Blatty. For if the English gave us their “jail” in its now ubiquitous forms,
jel
,
jel-khana
,
jel-bot
and the like, we for our part have been by no means miserly in our own gifts. Thus as early as the sixteenth century the Hind.
chowki
was already on its way across the sea, eventually to effect its entry into English as those very old words
chokey
,
choker
,
choky
, and even sometimes
chowki
. The parent of these words is of course the Hind.
chowk
, which refers to a square or open place in the centre of a village or town: this was where cells and other places of confinement were customarily located, being presided over by a
kotwal
and policed by a
paltan
of
darogas
and
chowkidars
. But
chokey
appears to have gained in grimness as it traveled, for its Hind. avatar is not the equal of its English equivalent in the conjuring of dread: a function that devolves rather to
qaid
and
qaidi
– two words which started their travels at almost the same time as
chokey
, and went on to gain admittance under such guises as
quod
,
quoddie
, and
quodded
, the last having the sense of “jailed”.'

+chokra/chuckeroo
: ‘Another instance in which Hind. and English usages subtly diverge, for a
chhokra
in former refers to a youth, a lad, a stripling, while
chokra/chuckeroo
points rather to a rung in the ladder of employment, which, no matter whether in a household, a military encampment, or a ship's crew, was usually the lowest, and thus commonly (but by no means always) held by the young. In the Raskhali Rajbari it would have been considered strange indeed to speak of a middle-aged
khidmatgar
as a
chhokra
. But such an usage would not appear unusual in English. It is interesting in this regard to compare
chokra/ chuckeroo
with its synonyms
launder/ launda
, which were never used in mixed company, for reason perhaps, of baring a little too much of their manhood.' See also
lascar
.