And now back to The Times of India

From the first page of the Saturday March 8th edition:

INDIAN ENGLISH WILL CONQUER GLOBE: EXPERT

Rashmee Roshan Lall

LONDON: English will fragment into "global dialects," Forcing speakers routinely to learn two varieties of the language - one spoken in their home country and a new kind of standard English with pronounced Indian characteristics, a leading expert has said.

The new Standard English, which will be understood globally, would be neccessary if the growing ranks of English-speakers around the world are to understand each other, said Professor David Crystal, one of the world's foremost experts and author of the Cambridge Encyclopedia of the English Language.

The new Standard English's likely Indian characteristics would signify the end of the primacy of American English. Future users of global Standard English might routinely say "I am thinking it's going to rain" rather than the British "I think it's going to rain," said Crystal.

"In language, numbers count. There are more people speaking English in India than in the rest of the native English-speaking world. Even now, if you ring a call centre, often it's an Indian voice you hear at the end of the phone. As the Indian economy grows, so might the influence of Indian English," he explained.

"Because Indians tend to use the present continous where we would use the present simple (with an Indian saying) 'I am thinking, I am feeling, I am seeing' rather than 'I think, I feel, I see...' this way of speaking could easily become sexy and part of global Standard English," said the professor, who has written more than 100 books.

Crystal, who was attempting to forecast the rise and rise of English as it fiercely beats off linguistic challenges and spreads, predicted that English would eventually become a family of languages, just as Latin did a thousand years ago. Latin, of course, spawned French, Spanish, Italian and other languages.

Blogger's commentary: Uhm. Okay. You read it here first. I had a few parts where I thought they were exagerrating a tad. More people speaking English in India, is he kidding? Just because, on my way to see if the girls were up and about at the Lotus today, I encountered another friendly fellow, this time an older, mature, adult type who said "Hello! Good morning! hello friend, chai? Helping something?"

I thought of this article as I kept walking past the fellow (He continued "friend, hello! HELLO! friend?") and thought about the number of people who know how to ask me for stuff in English: "Please something helping. Chapati. Biscuit. Baksheesh. MONEY, hello! MONEY!" or how everyone can make conversation to a certain point, the point where my usefulness appears to be determined "Hello. Which country? How long in Pushkar? Business? Come to my shop, I have many nice things. Just looking is okay, no charge for looking. Why not, I no say need to buy."

I feel most of the conversations I'm having with Pushkarters are of a superficial nature (I know, I'm contributing, it's not a one-sided issue, when is it ever? Never, that's when.) And when I tried having a discussion with Krishna the shopkeeper/tailor (not to be confused with Nepalese Krishna of the German Bakery fame) well, I pretty much wrecked it early on:

Krishna: (reacting to my reaction to a cow passing within a foot of my face) What?

Eufemia: It's great to see these cows just walk past your shop. But I still find it funny.

Krishna: Which country you again?

Eufemia: Canada

Krishna: Cows not like this in your country?

Eufemia: Ah, no.

Krishna: Where you have cows?

Eufemia: Uhm. Well, on farms. In my country, some people eat them.

Oh yeah, don't worry, I realised immediately I had stepped in it big time and should have just lied. He looked horrified. The conversation recovered slightly, he talked about his family, asked if I was married. I said no, and funnily enough, he didn't ask me if I had some strange disease. But then, seriously, out of nowhere he asked, "What your father do?" and without batting a kohled eyelash I said "He's retired but he was a butcher."

There was a pause and Krishna said "What that?" I said "Someone who works with meat." He looked like he was going to vomit. I jaldi (quickly) hoovered the savories and chai he had purchased for me and him to share and left. "Come to my shop and practice your Hindi" had turned into him practising his English, which gave me a furrowed-brow-headache.

But who am I to say anything? My grasp of grammar is laughable. I am the wrong person to explain anything about English to anyone, as many here have heard. ("I'm an idiot savant about this stuff. Sometimes just an idiot. That's why I do what's called 'creative writing'.") See my punctuation problems for further proof. As if you needed any.

I always thought I wanted to be a writer because I wanted to communicate....so much important stuff I have to communicate, y'know? (Oh here we go, what malarkey. First and foremost, I wanted to be famous, and now we know those piano lessons were a waste of time and moola. I never even got as far as Chopsticks and I still shudder when I hear Frère Jacques) But if I really want to communicate, I should also learn how to listen. Listen with patience. Listen carefully, not just thinking of the next thing I could say to ensure it sounds like I'm smart enough to handle the discourse. I'm sure I tune out a lot because I haven't focused my mind, it wanders about aimlessly in search of chocolate and carbohydrates, thinking it's best to communicate on a full stomach.

I remember once as a teenager, I chided my father on his English pronounciation. His reply? "My English may be no so good - but your Italian is terrible."

And my father's reaction to my "I have things I want to communicate, big things!" dilemma was so perfectly Papaji:

"So? Who's stopping you?"