Appellations
of Chennai's localities that are particularly hard on the tongue, especially to
those not knowing Tamil, co-exist in simple avatars, making lives easier for
its teeming citizens
If brevity constitutes the art of articulation, then Chennaittes are its past-masters. Proof of it lies in the names of some of its localities, which are in a state of perpetual minimalism. Those finding it difficult to enunciate the names of its localities could derive help from nomenclatures – a la the IUPAC for anything chemistry – that ensure you do not have a tongue-twister for an address.
From those steeped in the Sangam era of Tamil literature to their present-day trendy abbreviations or Anglicized versions, or those named after politicos, the names of Chennai’s localities could very well be Exhibit A in The Louvre of Pluralism and Co-existence. But we digress.
Did someone say floccinaucinihilipilification is the longest word in English? Or that Eyjafjallajökull (remember the volcanic eruption in Iceland that disrupted flights over half the globe?) seems unwieldy to read? Reading the names of some of Chennai’s localities, too, could be a demonstration of the phrase “as slippery as an eel”, making tongue twisters seem like child’s play. Take Valasaravakkam, for instance, a locality which was once in the city’s suburbs, but now well within its orb. Chances are, even the average Tamilian might flounder while reading it. Ditto with Virugambakkam, Nungambakkam or Injambakkam – to name a microscopic few. In fact, save for edifices such as name-boards on the MTC buses or post-offices, few might recognise them by their full names.
And banish the thought that Chennai is also the metropolis of literary faux pases, for, a rather irrational technique helps subvert it. Applicable for names ending with ‘-am’, it involves abbreviating and appending them with the suffix ‘-ai’. Which means, Valasaravakkam gets reduced to Valasai, Nungamabakkam to Nungai and Virugambakkam to Virugai. Why, even the city mayor calls himself Saidai (Saidapet) S Duraisamy. Voila. How ingenious! Interviewers, take note – one can’t get any more terse, and yet convey the meaning.
Go ahead, tell someone that this phenomenon laid the foundations for SMS lingo. Chances are, no one would dare to contest it.
Going by the same logic, a Madurantakam should get reduced to Madurai; Acharapakkam to Acharai; and Villivakkam must assume the identity of Villivai, but no, they do not. Reason? Because the city is exceptionally sunny right round the year. Because a certain N Srinivasan once became the president of the Board for Cricket Control in India, and had to be ousted. Because the filter coffee here tastes like heaven. Because the Tamil Nadu chief minister is also its mother. Because actor Rajinikanth doesn't wear wigs at public functions, revealing his bald pate.
That’s as rational as one can get.
And then we have the acronyms representing landmarks of the city – EA, TIDEL, CMBT, LIC, DMS, TVS, DPI, NIFT -- expanding which would, in all probability, elicit furrowed eyebrows, puzzled or dirty looks (Trust me, I am speaking out of experience!). Also, pat yourself on the back if you thought of the acronym-prefixed localities such as K K Nagar, M G R Nagar or M K B Nagar.
Short and sweet? OMG, this is 2G2BT, u kno!!
If brevity constitutes the art of articulation, then Chennaittes are its past-masters. Proof of it lies in the names of some of its localities, which are in a state of perpetual minimalism. Those finding it difficult to enunciate the names of its localities could derive help from nomenclatures – a la the IUPAC for anything chemistry – that ensure you do not have a tongue-twister for an address.
From those steeped in the Sangam era of Tamil literature to their present-day trendy abbreviations or Anglicized versions, or those named after politicos, the names of Chennai’s localities could very well be Exhibit A in The Louvre of Pluralism and Co-existence. But we digress.
Did someone say floccinaucinihilipilification is the longest word in English? Or that Eyjafjallajökull (remember the volcanic eruption in Iceland that disrupted flights over half the globe?) seems unwieldy to read? Reading the names of some of Chennai’s localities, too, could be a demonstration of the phrase “as slippery as an eel”, making tongue twisters seem like child’s play. Take Valasaravakkam, for instance, a locality which was once in the city’s suburbs, but now well within its orb. Chances are, even the average Tamilian might flounder while reading it. Ditto with Virugambakkam, Nungambakkam or Injambakkam – to name a microscopic few. In fact, save for edifices such as name-boards on the MTC buses or post-offices, few might recognise them by their full names.
And banish the thought that Chennai is also the metropolis of literary faux pases, for, a rather irrational technique helps subvert it. Applicable for names ending with ‘-am’, it involves abbreviating and appending them with the suffix ‘-ai’. Which means, Valasaravakkam gets reduced to Valasai, Nungamabakkam to Nungai and Virugambakkam to Virugai. Why, even the city mayor calls himself Saidai (Saidapet) S Duraisamy. Voila. How ingenious! Interviewers, take note – one can’t get any more terse, and yet convey the meaning.
Go ahead, tell someone that this phenomenon laid the foundations for SMS lingo. Chances are, no one would dare to contest it.
Going by the same logic, a Madurantakam should get reduced to Madurai; Acharapakkam to Acharai; and Villivakkam must assume the identity of Villivai, but no, they do not. Reason? Because the city is exceptionally sunny right round the year. Because a certain N Srinivasan once became the president of the Board for Cricket Control in India, and had to be ousted. Because the filter coffee here tastes like heaven. Because the Tamil Nadu chief minister is also its mother. Because actor Rajinikanth doesn't wear wigs at public functions, revealing his bald pate.
That’s as rational as one can get.
And then we have the acronyms representing landmarks of the city – EA, TIDEL, CMBT, LIC, DMS, TVS, DPI, NIFT -- expanding which would, in all probability, elicit furrowed eyebrows, puzzled or dirty looks (Trust me, I am speaking out of experience!). Also, pat yourself on the back if you thought of the acronym-prefixed localities such as K K Nagar, M G R Nagar or M K B Nagar.
Short and sweet? OMG, this is 2G2BT, u kno!!
