Historical Underpinnings
“Friends,
our dear sister
is departing for foreign
in two three days,
and
we are meeting today
to wish her bon voyage…
she is most popular lady
with men also and ladies also.
Whenever I asked her to do anything,
she was saying, ‘Just now only
I will do it.’ That is showing
good spirit. I am always
appreciating the good spirit.” (Ezekiel)
These verses by the prolific poet of 20th-century India, Nissim Ezekiel, from his anthology of poems, Very Indian Poems, still ring humorously relevant in an India where higher education and English education are synonymous, AI is taking over human thinking, traditions are being replaced by pop culture, and timelessness is replaced by trendiness.
At first glance, the India of Ezekiel and the India of today could not be more dissimilar, but take a closer look and you’ll find the great semblance that paints the canvas of our motherland into rich, peculiar hues. One of those vibrant strokes being—English, the language of the masses.
Ezekiel’s India was a first-generation English-speaking nation, in a sense. In an era led by the Raj, the exigency for brown-Brits, called Babus, was one of the few ways to climb the ladder of societal hierarchy (Sreeja). A good formal education in English, paired with a knack for administrative or teaching jobs, accredited an individual with high regard. Well—not much has changed since then—except perhaps an increased repudiation of the proper use of language.
Quirks of Contemporary Indian English
Shying only a quarter to a century since our pale settlers left us for good, the English language has undergone tremendous philological changes. Aside from the pandemic of American vs. British spellings in Indian institutions, there is also a rich lexical inventory of Indian-English. Words that are not familiar to the English language but are culturally native to English speakers in India. Words like: loose motion, prepone, godown, timepass, bunk, mixie, cousin-sister, cheatercock, jugadoo, etc.
The beauty of such neologism is that it frees us from the constraints of a culture whose language we may have adopted but have not much else in common. In his critical essay “The Future of Englishes,” David Graddol examines the evolving nature of the English language globally, predicting how different varieties of English will continue to emerge and adapt in various cultural contexts. His essay emphasises the increasing influence of localised English varieties and the shift in English usage toward multilingual contexts (Graddol).
While that is quite visionary, it still doesn’t hurt the educated masses to slap the dust off of their grammar books every now and then and learn to be more articulate. As much as a study of Greek and Latin required a sound understanding of grammar, the contemporary population is driven away from it. Slang has become the new parameter to measure an individual’s linguistic prowess. Words like “Suh dude?” are preferred over “What is up with you?” and a more repetitious yet abbreviated syntax has sprung up. Teenage interactions now reveal a mix of English slang and local dialects, making traditional speakers wince. “We was standing by the café, and there she was—looking fire. NGL” (Yule).
Believe it or not, this is especially the case for a more metropolitan India. One keen journey through the veiny routes of Delhi metro would provide you with a diploma in Indian-English. It may not help you with grammar, but at least you’ll be fluent in Hinglish as you approach the terminal at Vishwavidyalya. Scores of young men and women chattering excitedly, “I to knew ki today’s lecture would give me a BT for sure,” and “Matlab bhyi, did you see what jugadoo-shit she was wearing at the convocation?” Ah! the sweet music of gossip and chatter.
In its defence, Indian-English is in no way a poor reflection on the Indian populace. I mean, there’s also Japanese English—or, should I say, Japanese Ingrish. As an academic in language and literature, all of these peculiarities are funnier to you than offensive. It reminds you that there is an aspect of language that cannot be regulated, restricted, or passed down, and that aspect is culture (Poole). This ‘component C’ dominates our daily discourse and penetrates all human understanding.
Take, for example, how we try to create mnemonics to retain important information. The associations we make may be surreal but are also totally culturally appropriate. In my limited time as a babysitter, I have heard my nephew reiterate, “Auto-mein-takli, Automatically.” I was flabbergasted by the sheer creativity of infancy and equally amused.
But while there is a plethora of innocent, humorous examples, there is also a plentitude of more serious and often embarrassing cases. For example, I have more than I would like to recount, met with postgraduates at the best Indian universities, with a metropolitan upbringing talk to me as follows:
“Hey, pleased to meet you."
“Yeah! Hello! Likewise.”
“So where are you from? I am from Jaipur.”
“Oh wow! I am from Jaipur only.”
To say this was a singular case would be lying through my teeth. And quite frankly, she had wonderful vocabulary. There were words in that conversation that tempted me to pull out a notepad and jot down for future regurgitation. It was after many similar conversations that I hypothesised that perhaps the problem is not with our ability to learn appropriateness and grammar but perhaps the way we think in words.
Many of us are trained in schools to learn the equation-ridden formulae of English grammar. “S1 + V1 +ing,” and so we grow old looking at language as a puzzle to solve for some sort of answer. However, it not only beats the purpose of learning a language but also ruins it for any possible enjoyment. How could you have fun learning if your tongue was wrapped in barbed wires of mechanicality? Yes, there are rules, but those rules are best retained through communication, as has been proven. The superiority of Dell Hymes’ Communicative Language Teaching (Sherzer et al.) over the Grammar Translation Method (Piantaggini), viz., to directly translate the grammar of one language into another, is bolstered by heaping mounds of research, and yet schools and language coaches in India keep barking up the wrong tree.
“Are you ready?”, the surgeon asked the patient lying before him on the operation table.
“Yes-Yes, I am Reddy,” replied the agitated patient, doubting the surgeon’s skill and wondering why he was just now asking for his name.
The pertinent idiosyncrasies of Indian English only just begin here. Many derisive sketches of language teaching are inspired by classrooms. A technique preferred by educators is the just-talk-in-English-no-matter-what approach. This leads to gems like, “I'm doing time pass in the canteen” or “Ma’am, Shirin ate my rubber.” Sure, the intention is to practice English, but it often results in poor, literal translations from native languages, creating phrases that may be understandable to fellow Indians but would bewilder most native English speakers (Lange).
Additionally, students are often given assignments to prepare PowerPoint presentations. Most presentations start with the iconic “Good morning, respected sir, ma'am, and my dear friends.” What's funny is how every student, regardless of the topic, uses the same introductory lines, followed by awkward pauses, struggling to remember what comes next. It’s a ritualistic display of English, where phrases are memorised rather than understood. Yet another instance of this is the age-old “I beg to say that” in applications to authority. How many of us have begged our way through school ‘bunks’ or ‘furloughs’ is a mystery even for us to solve.
Then there is the bombastic verbosity, the last arrow in every lazy academic’s quiver. In debates or papers, students resort to adding big words without fully grasping their meaning to make up for an inability to formulate a sturdy argument. For instance, they may say, “The implication of the procrastination in modern civilisation is irrefutably perplexing,” just to sound intellectual. Upon pressing for elaboration, you are sure to meet a “search me” expression.
Furthermore, buzzwords like "paradigm shift,” "synergy,” and “innovative solutions” are thrown around quite liberally. A student might say, “We need to leverage our core competencies to facilitate a paradigm shift in our learning methodologies.” But what does it mean? It certainly does little to evoke ethos for change.
Another peculiarity of the upcoming Indian English speakers is their desperation to adopt a foreign accent (Lange). Many young students, in a bid to sound fluent, imitate a forced foreign accent, especially during formal events like presentations or speeches. This often leads to absurd pronunciations like “faiv” (five), “fotty” (fourty), or “won-dah-ful” (wonderful), coupled with an exaggerated rolling of Rs. Unfortunately, their enunciation shifts from clarity to verbal theatrics, making them sound comical rather than proficient. This demoralises them to speak often, eventually robbing them of opportunities to express themselves openly. Also, it prevents them from building real confidence; this charade of “fake it till you make it” exhausts them past a point.
Cultural and linguistic importance of Indian English
If we rest and meander on the subject of peculiarities, we are sure to find a dozen others, but as it requires reiteration, the purpose is not to chide English speakers across the nation but to stoke a sense of recognition and acceptance. It is a curious event how language functions morph over time and become a part of history. David Graddol is certainly right about “the increasing influence of localised English varieties,” but it also comes with caution. Language teachers and learners especially should sincerely devote time to a rigorous study of language before they set out to break rules and use any language for convenience.
In the meantime, Indian English stands as a vibrant testament to the adaptability and resilience of Indian culture, blending global influences into a truly distinctive variety. With its unique neologisms and borrowed words, Indian English mirrors the diversity of India itself, connecting communities across cultural divides and adding allure to the broader English language. Words like bamboo, shampoo, juggernaut, namaste, aum, yoga, and jungle are all Indian gifts. After all, any children’s storybook would sound dull if it opened with “Once upon a time, in a dark and dense forest” instead of “Once upon a time, in a dark and dense jungle.”
As Sreeja emphasises, it is not merely a language but a bridge—an innovative, evolving dialect that unites millions of speakers with expressions deeply rooted in local sensibilities (Sreeja). Far from diluting English, Indian English celebrates the creative potential of a multilingual society.
With its quirks, idioms, and distinct lexicon, Indian English captures the humour, warmth, and inventiveness of its speakers. Piantaggini underscores how language retains its vitality through adaptation, and Indian English does this with ease (Piantaggini). Instead of conforming to rigid structures, it breathes freely, embodying a culture that cherishes uniqueness. This evolution is more than linguistic—it is a cultural mosaic connecting India’s past and present, painting a colourful canvas of identity and language.
Indian English, then, is much more than a mere variant; it is an evolving artefact of India’s rich and complex identity. It speaks to more than just the structure of English—it captures the very essence of a nation, weaving diverse voices into a vibrant tapestry. In this sense, Indian English is as beautiful, resilient, and multifaceted as India itself.
Works Cited
Ezekiel, Nissim. "Nissim Ezekiel." Poemhunter.com - The World’s Poetry Archive, 2012, www.poemhunter.com/i/ebooks/pdf/nissim_ezekiel_2012_4.pdf.
Graddol, David. The Future of English? The British Council, 1997, dialnet.unirioja.es/servlet/articulo?codigo=2453542.
Piantaggini, Lance. “Grammar-Translation: What Is It—Really—For Students?” The Journal of Classics Teaching, vol. 21, no. 42, Jan. 2020, pp. 92–94. https://doi.org/10.1017/s2058631020000513.
Raghu, A. The Poetry of Nissim Ezekiel. Atlantic Publishers and Dist, 2002.
Sherzer, Joel, et al. “Dell H. Hymes: An Intellectual Sketch.” Language in Society, vol. 39, no. 3, May 2010, pp. 301–05. https://doi.org/10.1017/s0047404510000229.
Sreeja, V. “Babu English: Mimicry and Subversion in Language.” IOSR Journal of Humanities and Social Science (IOSR-JHSS), vol. 24, no. 2, Feb. 2019, pp. 13–17. https://doi.org/10.9790/0837-2402011317.
Wright, Arnold. Baboo English as ’tis Writ: Being Curiosities of Indian Journalism. 1891.
About the Author
Vishwajeet, a PhD scholar at the Department of English, University of Rajasthan, and former Assistant Professor at JECRC University, Jaipur, brings a distinctive blend of academic rigour and creative thinking to the field of Humanities. With a solid foundation in both the Sciences and Humanities, he has cultivated a critical and creative perspective, which he considers his most valuable tools for navigating both academic and personal challenges. His guiding philosophy as a learner and educator is to delve into the essence of subjects to uncover deeper truths, a mindset that he integrates into his work as both a scholar and an assistant professor at the university.
Vishwajeet is the youngest Indian author to write and publish a book on Research Methodology, which has garnered attention for his unique combination of scholarly precision and practical teaching experience. His book, ceremoniously launched by the Vice-Chancellor of the University of Rajasthan, Prof. Alpana Kateja, alongside distinguished academicians such as Prof. Deepa S.P. Mathur (Head of English), Dr. Anjila Singh, and Dr. Vishakha Chauhan, reflects his commitment to advancing research education. At just 26, he has already contributed numerous research articles and book chapters to peer-reviewed, high-impact journals and authored two traditionally published books. His work on Research Methodology is also featured in several university libraries, affirming its value as a critical resource for students and researchers alike.