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I belatedly realized that there were a few categories that had been left out in the first post on Mallu Christian names…
The list continueth:
1. Phonetically translated from shortened English names (Elizabeth = Lizzy or Jessica = Jessie or Rosemary = Rosy) but then subsequently miss-spelled, e.g. Lissy or Licy (fortunately not Lousy!) I once came across a Wincy – kept me wondering if a miss-spelled Eensy weensy spider nursery rhyme was responsible! The reason is that the letter ‘z’ does not exist in Malayalam – the closest equivalents are ’s’ and ‘c’!
Male Mallus are not spared. I once met a ‘Reggie’ (or so I thought) and innocently asked him if his full name was Reginald – as in the Archie comics. he threw me a disgusted look and then spelled it out to dispel any doubt. “R-e-j-i : that’s my full first name.”
“Oh!” I replied, trying to be polite, “Ji like the Northies – with respect and all that jazz… ” I trailed off as he gave me a blank look!
2. Names that sound like noises – the most common from Kerala is Achu which sounds like a loud, too-late-to-check sneeze to me.
Tamil is not immune to similar tendencies – Kichu is extremely common diminutive of Krishna – I think that sounds like a politely suppressed sneeze! I once met a Bhooma and couldn’t help thinking her name sounded like a mini explosion!
Here is a post from Timofeyevich on some more amazing laugh-aloud examples of Tamil names!
© Sosha Srinivasan
I relish creative stuff and commercials with a dash of humor always catch my eye. This one made me laugh aloud – because an almost parallel story line runs at home! My not-so-young son sometimes regresses into childhood and gives me a a long hug or a nuzzle – and hubby dearest looks daggers at sonny from his corner… Only (according to Wilkinson) hubby’s not anywhere in the competition – because he wears a full beard!
© Sosha Srinivasan
Bob Wolpert, 2003 recipient of the Distinguished Junior High School Mathematics Teaching Edyth May Sliffe Award – and my Math teacher at IST, sent me a reference to Improv Everywhere, in particular this video of Frozen in Grand Central Station, NYC:
Harmless, good, clean fun!
You can browse through the Improv Everywhere site too for more videos – or click on the link in my sidebar widget.
Turns out that Improv Everywhere’s creator, Charlie Todd, was also taught by Mr Wolpert. Talk about six degrees of separation! By the way, I loved Will Smith’s performance in the movie by the same name, didn’t you?
Here’s a similar, though more musically oriented stunt, from Antwerp, Belgium:
© Sosha Srinivasan
Memory is a way of holding on to the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose.”
- Kevin Arnold.
When I first read about blogs/blogging – I thought what could be less interesting about reading about someone’s life? Fiction, to me, had always seemed more interesting than life. (Confessions of a “bookmad” individual – to quote my son.) I have since come across the pits – dull as ditchwater meandering treatises, but also, happily blogs of the prolific, well traveled Mark Moxon (though www.moxon.net is not, technically speaking, a blog) and India’s very own Mrs. Fife – wonderfully humorous turn of phrase (jeete raho beti!)
I also decided my schooldays were interesting enough fodder for a blog… memories from my years at Cathedral & John Connon, Bombay (sorry Mumbai – old habits die hard) – Std 2 to Std 6 (1972-1976) – any CATs reading this? – and then at the International School of Tanganyika (IST) – Grade 7 to Grade 11 (1977-1981). Both schools have been catalysts - I owe a great deal of what I am – my personality, outlook, philosophy, call it what you may – to the influence of teachers there, as well as friends I made at both schools. Unfortunately it has been over a quarter of a century since I’ve been in touch with them….
I’d been trawling the Net for familiar names and a month or so ago I got lucky. I had tried a Norwegian study buddy’s name, Morten (from IST), got several matches but none that I could be certain of. Then in a, if I may say so, brilliant piece of detective work (though jealous critics may call me devious) I keyed in his kid sister’s name, and bingo! there she was, larger than life with photo ID to boot. She forwarded my mail and …
The truth is, I sat on it for a month. Why? I wasn’t sure of the reception I’d receive after 26 years – and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to keep up a regular correspondence… but I finally did, mostly on impulse.
I have tracked down a couple of other close friends from IST, one in the UK and one in the US of A – Anna, you are not going to believe what hit you! DuBois will have to make do with a phone call since I could only trace a telephone number with the means at my disposal…
The suspense builds up – will I get the cold shoulder – have I got the right number… ? Don’t go away, I’ll be right back with the most recent update of the breaking news…
While you wait, here’s a lovely poem called ‘Sometimes’ to think about – and remember …
Across the fields of yesterday
He sometimes comes to me,
A little lad just back from play—
The lad I used to be.
And yet he smiles so wistfully
Once he has crept within,
I wonder if he hopes to see
The man I might have been.
- Thomas S. Jones, Jr.
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