Tamil to Hindi accident

Guess, no other human being would have ever landed up in a language class by accident...

FLASH BACK...

The story goes like this - I was in my 1st std. at YMCA, Pondicherry (the school is extinct now though)... and was as usual arattai aduchufying and attentionless in the class... and dhideer nu teacher edho kekka, oru 4 pasanga and ponnunga stood up... and the class became silent... I was shocked by the silence and looked around and also stood up... and they noted the names of the students who stood after the teacher posed the question... sandoshama S. Arun Prakash nu name sollitu vandhutten...

Next day - Tamil period, teacher calls out a few names and my name and asks us to go to the terrace for Hindi class... thus started my Hindi lessons...

Me: Appa, school la miss enna Hindi class ku join panna solli scale aala adichaanga pa.

Appa: Ennadhu, adichaangala? (Thinks) Seri, parava illa , nee Hindi kathukko, Viji (my sister) tamil padikattum...

"Flash front" to 2008... Ipdiyaaga aarambichadhu ennoda Hindi as a second language...Ada raama... apdeenu Hindi padichu, +2 la school second um vaangi... college la join panni Bombay ku oru trip dhairiyama ponen, with my friend...

Flash back again - March, 1996... I was travelling in the butter-jam-sardine-packed metro train between Goregaon to Churchgate and was to get down at Andheri en route... and I did not know which side of the train the platform was supposed to be... as it kinda kept changing between stations... I decided and asked someone who cd possibly know... and did not understand the Hindi and was standing at the exactly opposite gate where the station platform was at... and missed getting down at Andheri... missed and before I realized and went back to the opposite door to get off at the next station, 3 stations had already passed and I explained in my horrible Hindi to the fellow passengers about my plight... they said - haa haa Andheri mein uthaarna thaa!! and started LOL...

Apram in the hanging gardens of Mumbai, my friend and I were walking around, unable to find the route to reach there, ended up getting lost and finally I brought up the courage to ask a small shop in the locality and explained that we are new to the place and we are looking to go to hanging gardens in my broken Hindi... and after I finished, the shopkeeper replies - ennaga Tamil aa? Neraa poyi right la thirumbunga (go straight and turn right)... and my friend was rolling on the ground with laughter...

And another story, in 2000 at Hyderabad... I go to receive a friend at Hyd railway station and we hired an autorickshaw to go to my home... and the auto driver goes blah... blah... blah... yada yada yada in Hindi-Urdu... and both of us had no clue what he was saying... and we were just answering, haanji, naheemji... and my friend was getting increasingly bugged... he decided to put an end to it with the three words that he knew in Hindi... all that he knew was Doodh, Kahaan Jaatha Hai... so he phrased this sentence... Yeh Doodh Kahaan Jaatha Hai... the auto driver slowed down and looked back at us and kept silent for the rest of the journey... PEACE!!!

started blogging again

thot wd maintain a register of thoughts, however random they may seem... i sat down to write abt it as I suddenly remembered a radio ad about Bril Ink during my childhood days and my mind set sails towards the high school days...

I used pencils until my 4th Std. and when I moved to an another school starting my 5th std., I started using pens... and it was suggested to use the fountain pen for nurturing a good handwriting... the Hero pen was a real popular choice with the student those days... pens leaking, pens running out of inks, borrowing drops of inks from ur buddy sitting besides you... the fountain pen nibs breaking and you trying to straighten it up on the edges of the benches so that it could write somehow and you end up tearing the papers on your notebook instead of writing with your pen...

though ballpoints were not so popular that time, until the "Reynolds 045" stormed the Indian market...the ballpoint pen refils were 50 paise that time... carried a yellowish-golden nib... and you have to warm up the refill by rubbing against your palms to have the ink flowing, scribble the pen on the backside of your "rough notebook" (scrapbook as it is being called these days)... and sometimes bite the nib off the refill tubing and blow through the other side of the refill to have the ink "in contact" with the nib.... and you ended up making an indellible ink stain on your school uniform...

Suriyagandhi Kuripedu was a popular brand of notebook those days... and high school kids stuck to the Konaar tamil urai....

jus random thoughts.... jus random thoughts....