Lassan, Kaddu and Tera Bhai!

If neutrally judged by the language we speak, most of us would be considered nothing but ruffians. This is because a significant part of our vocabulary consists of colloquial words, slang expressions and euphemisms, which are non-standard, non-literary and informal but used by many of usin everyday conversations.

Like other major languages, Urdu has its informal versions. Featuring abay, tabay, teri tou, and beyond, this version comprises interesting terms, trendy catchphrases and suggestive expressions often too informal to be spoken, written or found in dictionaries. Sifting through the good, the bad and the ugly of Urdu slang and colloquialism is an uphill task. Nevertheless, it is an inevitable part of our everyday language, as shown by many common examples worth mentioning.

Kaddu (pumpkin) may be just another vegetable in other countries, but in the Subcontinent, it is the most emphatic word to convey one’s impulsive emotions. Lassan (garlic), originally lehsan, is another word people use with a befitting verb to express their frustration when things go in undesired directions. Khachar (mule) is used with similar connotations.

Despite their rather blunt, offensive or closer-to-offensive nature, the perennial popularity and strength of colloquialisms lie in their never-ending capacity and elasticity. They help one speak one’s heart out on the spur of the moment without constraining one’s impulsive creativity to steadfast lingual rules or confining one’s wildest (literally) imagination to conform to social boundaries. And even the sky’s not the limit when such expressions are delivered, particularly in anger or spoken during abrupt moments.

With an overemphasis on Urdu alphabets like gaaf, chay, laam, tay and pey, most slang is used within a specific environment and by particular groups of people sharing similar ages, interests, professions, communities and socio-economic backgrounds. However, many colloquial terms, catchphrases and common proverbs tinged with slang are frequently used. From the potpourri of the most popular street lingo and casual expressions, the words abay, chal, bharam, ghanta, tera bhai, patlee gali se, and ‘Hitler’ top the list and are used with a variety of connotations by both the literate and illiterate.

The non-academic version of the Urdu language is predominantly ruled by Hindi, followed by Punjabi. The popularity enjoyed by Indian films has been a great source for inducting slang expressions and catchphrases into everyday vocabularies, such as panga, action Kumar, bol Bachchan, chamiya, chammak challo, dada, siaynpati, tashan, tapori, takla, tulla, chirand, waat lagna, and many more. “Tera kya hogaa kaliya?”, “Kitne aadmi the?”, “Mogambo khush hua”, “Ye Baburao ka style hay” and “Tareekh pe tareekh” are iconic lines from films that have found their way into everyday communication.

Examples of the most common colloquial proverbs are Khaya piya kuch nahi glass tora baraa aanay ka, Jo naa katay aari se, wo katay Bihari se, Lag pata jaey gaa, Baap bara naa bhaiya, sab se bara rupaiyaa, Banda heera hai bas zarra saa keera hai, Kaam karo poora, bhaar main jaey noora, Majboori kaa naam shukriyaa, Ya Shaikh, apni apni daikh, Pappu yaar tang na kar, Hansi tou phansi, and Naqad baray shoq se, udhaar agle chowk se. Colloquial proverbs such as Bharam tight aur pateela khali and Baat croron ki, dukan pakoron ki are used almost with similar connotations, referring to a destitute person behaving arrogantly or making tall claims.

Urdu is never short of befitting expressions to honestly describe a person along with his or her personal characteristics, such as chashmatoo or chashmulli, darhyal, mucharr, heroinchi, afeemchi, akru, lambu, khaimbu, paitu, kodu, tunta, dedh footiya, tat poonjia, foothpathiya, taaru, pakaoo, etc. Similarly, there are scores of analogies and similes, such as pakora for nose, buttons for eyes, bhoosa and khali khopri for the brain, samosa for ears, thobra for face, ghonsla for hair, airport for a hair-free head, kunwan for the stomach, til kaa laddu for a mole-filled face and doodh patti for a person affected by vitiligo.

The localised translation spree has turned the measurement tape into an inchi tape, a water suction pump into a khainchoo, a stapler into a joroo, a megaphone into a bhonpu, a bobby pin into a baal pin, an old, worn-out car into a dhakka start and an old motorcycle into a phatpati. Ironically, a poor man with no means of transportation has to rely on walking called giyara number ki bus. Many words also have clandestine meanings and euphemistic applications, such as dhulai, ragraa, panchayat, merna, maarna, marwana, laina, daina, lagana, banana, pakana, chorna, phainkna, lapiatna, phutna, phootna, hatana, bejana, kaam hojana, halka/bhari/choraa hona, class laina, etc.

Kids are referred to as raiz gari, bacha party, chillars, chillar party, bachaa log and chawwanni athanni, while the word bachoo is used as an intimidating remark. A beautiful girl is mostly painted as bachi, kancha, chanp, piece, popat, hato-bacho and katto, while pappu, pappu bacha, and chikna are used for a clean-shaven, good-looking boy. People use kallo pari to refer to an attractive girl with a dark complexion. Interestingly, my late mother coined the term kallo patra, a distorted version of Cleopatra, to describe those women (mostly her daughters-in-law, her relatives and her neighbours) trying to appear beautiful despite being otherwise.

In a culture that revels in gender segregation, one must never wonder when a doctor is called doctorni, manager becomes a managerni, darzi as darzan, chamar as chamaran, baira as bairan, and banda as bandi. Terms like youthiya, surkhay, jamaati, jiyala and tableeghi depict people’s political and ideological associations.

Counting in Urdu’s colloquial version is much more than just numbers. Children have alternatives for the natural numbers, such as pail (one), dool (two), teel (three), chol (four), panj (five), and so on. Aik number refers to a top-quality product, while dou number is used for a second-rate thing and for those considered dishonest and have immoral characters. Das numbri denotes a clever person or a fraudster, while char so bees, derived from Section 420 of the Indian Penal Code, also reflect similar meanings. Ponay aath refers to a man with effeminate qualities, and chakka and teesri dunya are used for transgenders. A chappan churi person is quarrelsome, while the one-of-a-kind slang proverb De maar, sarray char is often used to show one’s frustration or desperation to achieve results no matter what.

Based on euphemisms and quasi-offensive expressions, many phrases fall into a gentleman’s slang, used mainly by the educated, well-bred lot as an accessible outlet for catharsis without crossing moral thresholds. Venting their anger with a murmured teri tou to quietly calling someone saala, saali and susra, a gentleman’s slang features many words and phrases revolving around bhains (e.g. abay bhains, bhains ki aaknkh/taang/poonch), ullu (e.g. ullu ki dum), kutta (e.g. kutta dimagh), sooar, gadha, khar or khachar.

Due to cultural and historical factors, language, phrases, and words keep evolving, as do their pronunciations. From naalij (knowledge), kaalij (college), paalish (polish), puncher (puncture), lecturaar (lecturer), and custoomer (customer) to laat (lot), plaat (plot), phateek (fatigue), biskut (biscuit), ricaard (record), mainoo (menu), tool plaza (toll plaza), full-flash (full-fledged), kalashan (Kalashnikov), etc., a whole host of non-Urdu words are used with gusto but with localised pronunciations.

The commonality of informal lingual expressions and how they become part of everyday speech is underlined by their widespread use in TV shows, films, and ads. Haath hojana, an offensive phrase, is now a (wrongly) yet widely accepted journalistic term. Lashkara is a common word used in washing powder ads. The phrase lush pash, mainly derived from urban street jargon, was also featured in one of Ariel Excel’s TV ads in the early 2000s. Chief Saab, Sajjad Ali’s trademark song, is a textbook example of urban Urdu slang. Other than the eponymous Chief Saab, the song is littered with such slang words as pinki hona, meter ghumna, raag paat sunana, naqsh-e-bazi dikhana, mawaali and pakhraat.

Be it a mummy-daddy boy, papa ki pari or a burger family, the taap-o-taap journey of Urdu colloquialism is never-ending, coining, mimicking, distorting and scooping up every possible word to help us let it all out. Alat dee!

Faizan Usmani is Senior Editor, Intersys, an international IT firm. faizanusmani76@gmail.com