Before exiting India in 1947, the British colonial rulers ransacked India in every sense of the word. So much so, there is a standing joke that there are probably more Indian antiquities and treasures in British museums than in the whole of India.
While the 109-carat Koh-i-Noor diamond takes centre stage in the Tower of London, dazzling tourists, another looted item quietly resides in the English vocabulary.
It’s the word “loot” itself, which is derived from the similarly pronounced Hindi “lut”, which means to plunder.
That’s just the start. In January 2020, The Times of India reported that the ninth edition of the Oxford Advanced Learners’ Dictionary had more than 240 Indian-origin words.
Let’s examine this great linguistic heist, one looted word at a time.
Take “avatar,” for instance. Once a dignified Sanskrit term meaning “descent of a deity”, it now refers to the blue beings in James Cameron movies and cartoon graphic self-representations on social media. This fall from grace – from god to gamer – might be the most epic career downgrade in history.
Then, there’s “candy” – the word on perhaps every child’s lips. It seems that once upon a time in India; pieces of sugar were produced by boiling sugarcane juice. These sweets were called “khanda”.
Somehow, this sweet Sanskrit word popped up in the Old French term “cucre candi” or sugar candy.
The word then hopped across the English Channel.
So, the next time you unwrap a lollipop, remember: it’s basically ancient Indian tech.
And how about “dungarees”? Sounds rugged and hip, doesn’t it? Except it came straight from the Hindi “dangri”, a cheap rough cloth worn by workers near the Dongri area of Mumbai.
Meanwhile, “bandana” comes across as something a dashing Zorro or a Wild West hero would wear. But, in a plot twist worthy of a Bollywood movie, it is derived from the Hindi “bandhnu”.
“Pyjamas” too have Indian roots, and now the Hindi “pay-jama”, meaning leg-garment, has become the nightwear favourite the world over.
While washing hair after waking up, do note that your shampoo has Indian roots. The word comes from the Hindi “champo”, meaning to massage the scalp.
Then there’s “juggernaut”. Although it sounds like an angry Transformer, it actually comes from Jagannath, a giant Hindu deity whose massive chariot crushes everything in its path.
Nothing was safe from the British.
From the Hindi “jangal”, meaning forest, they coined the word jungle.
From the Indian thuggee cults who strangled travellers and made offerings to the goddess Kali, they devised the descriptive noun “thug”.
“Khaki,” a proud staple of British military uniforms, is Urdu for “dust”. Rather ironic, considering the British left India in the dust after 200 years of colonial rule.
Even “punch” – the popular British party tipple is part of the loot the British plundered from India. It is derived from the Sanskrit “panca”, meaning five, as in the original five-ingredient drink.
So the next time you slip into your pyjamas, knot a bandana, or pour yourself some punch, remember — you’re not just using English. You’re speaking a language spiced with India’s own words, taken without thanks, stitched into the empire’s tongue. Now that’s the real linguistic loot.
tabla@sph.com.sg
