The Island Editorial

Aiyo!

12 October 2016

 

An exclamation with Sinhala and Tamil roots is reported to have been assimilated into the English language. The Oxford English Dictionary (OED) has recognised ‘Aiyo’ as a legitimate English word, we are told. It has been etymologically categorised and defined as a word ‘expressing distress or regret or grief’ and described as a substitute for the English phrases, ‘Oh no!’ or ‘Oh dear!’ This polysemous exclamation has other meanings and nuances as the native speakers of Sinhala and Tamil are aware.

Anyway, let’s be happy that we have loaned another word to the English word stock, which is a chain of borrowings with a miniscule Celtic core and more non-English than English, given the sheer number of words being borrowed from many other languages such as Greek, Latin, French and German. Interestingly, some of the oft-used loanwords are mistakenly thought to be English. ‘Jungle’, which is of Hindi/Urdu/Sanskrit origin, is a case in point.

The remarkable flexibility, adaptability and readiness to borrow from other languages have made English what it is today—a vehicular language or a lingua franca. Ironically, these attributes were once considered weaknesses of the language even by some famous English writers and poets. Edmund Waller wrote:

‘Poets that lasting marble seek

Must carve in Latin or in Greek;

We write in sand, our language grows,

And, like the tide, our work o'erflows.

How mistaken Waller and others of his ilk were! The works carved in Latin or in Greek are today as good as dead and English continues to flourish; it looks as if lasting marble could be sought only by carving in English.

Meanwhile, some of the Sinhala words assimilated into the English language are of interest. Cynics may argue that they are associated with some of our national traits. Several of them come to mind: ‘beriberi’ or vitamin deficiency (weakness), ‘tik polonga’ or a kind of viper (aggressiveness and venom) and ‘kitul’ or a palm from which toddy and treacle are obtained (inebriation). ‘Anaconda’, meaning a large constricting snake, is derived from the etymon, ‘henakandaya’.

It goes without saying that the OED has rendered an invaluable service to the English lexicon as a repository of words. There are, of course, other English dictionaries whose service to the English word stock should also be appreciated. The fact, however, remains that none of them, the OED included, will ever be able to store the entire English lexis at the rate new words are being adopted, especially in the field of science and technology. Interestingly, some of the longstanding monosemous words are now becoming increasingly polysemous. ‘Meme’ which, of relatively recent origin, meaning ‘an idea, behaviour, style or usage spreading from person to person within a culture’ now has gained another meaning as ‘netizens’ will tell you—‘a humorous image, video, piece of text, etc. that is copied (often with slight variations) and spread rapidly by Internet users’.

Words are like muscles as it were; unless regularly used they get afflicted with what is known as the disuse atrophy; they tend to go out of circulation. But, they never get lost because lexicons also serve as linguistic catacombs; they have to retain the dead words. And, there is no way of knowing whether a word is dead or not!

Hereafter, thanks to the OED, no one will be able to laugh up his or her sleeve when you use ‘Aiyo!’ while conversing with someone in English as most Sri Lankans do. It is hoped that phrases such as ‘Ane apoi’ and ‘Budu Ammo’ with a similar range of collocation will also find their way into the OED as calque is not simply possible.

Now that the government is going hell for leather to effect an unconscionable VAT hike, having already caused the cost of living to go through the roof, folks, let’s say, ‘Aiyo!’ for the whole world to hear. And louder!