Saturday, 4 October 2025

From Nalanda to NASA: Bharat’s Leap from Past Glory to Future Power

 
From Nalanda to NASA: Bharat’s Leap from Past Glory to Future Power

A meditation on Bharat’s timeless intellect — her journey from inherited grandeur to engineered greatness, where civilisational memory meets scientific modernity.


Make India Great Again: Bharat’s Rendezvous with Destiny

“Make India Great Again.” To some ears it may sound like a slogan borrowed from foreign political theatre. But in the Indian context, it is not a hollow catchphrase. It is a civilisational summons. For Bharat, greatness is no novelty to be engineered afresh; it is a patrimony to be reclaimed, recalibrated, and rendered relevant to the twenty-first century.

Our forebears gave the world the concept of zero, the rhythms of yoga, the curatives of Ayurveda, and philosophies that married reason with reverence. Colonisation, however, truncated this trajectory, leaving behind poverty and a fractured self-confidence.

Today, as Bharat strides into her Amrit Kaal, the time has come to blend ancient grandeur with modern vigour — to convert slogan into strategy, aspiration into arithmetic.


The Engines Already Whirring: Current Achievements

It would be churlish to deny that parts of the MIGA process are already in motion:

  • Economic Expansion: India has emerged currently as the world’s forth-largest economy and consistently the fastest-growing among major world economies.

  • Digital Alchemy: Aadhaar and UPI have wrought what the French call a coup de maître — turning even the humblest villager into a participant of the digital economy.

  • Spacefaring Prestige: ISRO’s Chandrayaan-3 touched the lunar south pole; Mangalyaan circled Mars at a fraction of Western costs — proof that thrift and triumph are not mutually exclusive.

  • Start-up Surge: With the world’s third-largest start-up ecosystem, India births unicorns at a pace that suggests entrepreneurial élan, not merely enterprise.

  • Democratic Depth: Despite cacophony and contestation, 600 million citizens cast ballots in the largest democratic spectacle on earth — res publica in its truest sense.

These are no trifles. They show that Bharat’s engines of greatness are idling, awaiting acceleration.


The Lacunae: Where We Falter

Yet plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose — the more things change, the more they remain the same. Progress coexists with persistent gaps:

  • Education as Quantity sans Quality: Enrolments soar but critical thinking and creativity languish.

  • Research Deficit: At a paltry 0.7% of GDP, India’s research spending is anemic. By comparison, Israel devotes over 5%, South Korea over 4%. Res ipsa loquitur.

  • Inequities Abound: Urban–rural divides, gender gaps, caste cleavages remain stubbornly unresolved.

  • Bureaucratic Drag: Noble schemes often perish in red tape, delayed funds, or indifferent implementation.

  • Environmental Neglect: Rivers run sullied, air is scarcely breathable, forests shrink. Without ecological dharma, greatness is but a chimera.


The Metrics of Magnitude: What MIGA Must Mean in Numbers

Greatness cannot subsist on poetry alone; it must be pegged to measurable horizons:

  • GDP per Capita: Today ~US$2,700 → Target: US$12,000–18,000 by 2047 — lifting Bharat from modest to middle-high-income status.

  • R&D Intensity: Today ~0.7% → Target: 2.5–3.5%sine qua non for genuine innovation.

  • Researchers per Million: Today ~260 → Target: 2,000+ — a tenfold increase to match OECD standards.

  • Innovation Index: Today ranked ~38 → Target: Top 20 within two decades.

  • Human Development Index: Today 0.685 → Target: ≥0.800, firmly in the “high human development” bracket.

In other words: to transform grandeur from rhetoric to reality, Bharat must invest in brains as much as in bridges, in laboratories as much as in highways.


Illustration: Charting Bharat’s Ascent — From Present Realities to 2047 Horizons

(A visual encapsulation of the Make India Great Again roadmap — juxtaposing India’s current developmental metrics with the aspirational benchmarks of 2047.)

 





The Raison d’Être: Why Bharat Must MIGA

Why must Bharat bother? Because mediocrity is an abdication of destiny.

  1. Demographic Dividend: A youthful nation today; a demographic time-bomb tomorrow if jobs and skills are absent.

  2. Geopolitical Gravitas: In a multipolar world, India cannot remain a mere “balancing power.” It must be a leading pole in its own right.

  3. Civilisational Continuity: A people who built Nalanda and Konark cannot forever subsist on borrowed technologies.

  4. Moral Responsibility: A planet in ecological peril looks to India — the land of prakriti reverence — to lead the green transition.

  5. Equity at Home: True greatness lies not in Gurgaon’s glass towers but in ensuring that a farmer’s child in Gadchiroli or a weaver’s daughter in Madurai has the same chance at dignity.

Thus, MIGA is no vanity project. It is raison d’être — the reason for being.


A Roadmap to 2047: Phases of Renaissance

  • Phase I (0–5 years): Raise R&D to 1% of GDP, double PhD slots, ensure universal broadband and reliable electricity.

  • Phase II (5–15 years): R&D to 2%, researchers per million to 1,000, Global Innovation Index into the Top 30.

  • Phase III (15–30 years): R&D beyond 2.5%, GDP per capita $12k–18k, HDI ≥0.800, innovation Top 20.

Ad astra per aspera — through hardships to the stars — must be our mantra.

 




 


 

 
Coda: The Indian Cadence

Let us not content ourselves with borrowed quips and imported dreams. Let us conclude with our own wisdom:

“யாதும் ஊரே, யாவரும் கேளிர்” - கணியன் பூங்குன்றனார்.புறநானூறு. 

"Every town is our hometown, and every person is our kinsman"- Kaṉiyan Pūngunṟanār - Purananuru, Sangam Era

If we live by that maxim, India will not merely be “great again”; she will be great anew — her lamp rekindled, her light radiating once more upon the world’s mantelpiece.


Hashtags

#MakeIndiaGreatAgain #MIGA #India2047 #CivilisationalRenaissance #DevelopmentWithDharma #AdAstraPerAspera #MakeinIndia #Bharat #Swadesi


Friday, 3 October 2025

Enakena Yerkanave: A Technical Dissection of Rāga, Sthāyi, and Sonic Craft in a Tamil Cine-Classic

 


“Charting the Musical Genome of Enakena Yerkanave: A Voyage from Dharmavati to Kalyani, Through Sthāyi, Counterpoint, and Orchestral Finesse"

Tamil cinema has often borrowed from the Carnatic idiom, but seldom with the finesse one encounters in Enakena Yerkanave from Parthen Rasithen (2000). 

When I first wrote a brief note on this song in the Orkut days of 2008–2009, it had already etched itself deeply in my musical memory. Even after all these years, the composition continues to resonate—testament to Bharadwaj’s extraordinary musical sensitivity and craftsmanship. 

That year, this song stood among Tamil cinema’s finest; it ruled the FM waves and television channels, momentarily outshining even Ilaiyaraaja’s and Rahman’s releases in popular affection.

This song is not merely a romantic duet but a crafted sangīta-śilpam—a musical sculpture where rāga, sthāyi (octave), orchestration, and anubhaavam (emotional resonance) coalesce with consummate artistry.

I make no claim to formal training in music; whatever little understanding I possess has been chiselled through decades of devoted listening to Ilaiyaraaja’s creations and a measure of self-taught curiosity. What follows, therefore, is not a scholar’s dissection but a listener’s reflective and technical meditation on the architecture of this composition—an attempt to unravel how beauty takes form in sound.

Let us now step into the song’s inner sanctum, where melody breathes and emotion listens—tracing how Bharadwaj wields rāga, rhythm, and orchestration to shape its inner emotional geography.


1. Rāga Lakaam: Which rāgas are used?

The song pivots upon two Carnatic rāgas of distinct temperament:

  • Dharmavati (59th Melakarta):
    • Character: Bright yet serious, with shades of viraha (longing) and bhakti.
    • Used in the male portion, establishing intensity and depth.
  • Kalyani (65th Melakarta):
    • Character: Majestic, luminous, suffused with karuā-rasa (tenderness, compassion).
    • Used in the female portion, adding warmth and tenderness.

Thus, the juxtaposition of Dharmavati and Kalyani creates a dialectical musical canvas—sorrowful yearning versus radiant affection.


2. Sthāyi (Octaval Architecture)

  • Male Voice (Unnikrishnan):
    • Predominantly in mandra and madhya sthāyis (lower and middle octaves).
    • Effect: Gravitas, grounded intensity, an earthy sogham.
  • Female Voice (Harini):
    • Predominantly in tāra sthāyi (upper octave).
    • Effect: Lightness, ethereality, a cloud-like paasam.

This vertical separation enhances the emotional polarity between man and woman.

 





3. Interplay Between Rāga and Sthāyi

  • Dharmavati + Lower Octave (Male): Conveys viraha anubhaavam—anchored passion.
  • Kalyani + Higher Octave (Female): Conveys paasa-mozhi—tender affection.

The thematic symbolism: earthbound yearning (bhū-loka) versus celestial compassion (deiva-loka).


4. Interludes and BGM

  • Strings: lush harmonic grounding.
  • Flute: tender breathing spaces.
  • Veena-like plucks: Carnatic undertone.
  • Background Score: darker hues under male voice, luminous flourishes under female, with subtle counter-melody hints.

Bharadwaj’s orchestration allows the emotional contour of the duet to remain the focus, rather than overpowering the vocals—a delicate balance rarely achieved in film music.


5. Counterpoint Parallel

Though not punctus contra punctum in the Western sense, the piece evokes a counterpoint-like effect:

  • Octaval layering: Male in Dharmavati (lower), female in Kalyani (higher).
  • Instrumental counter-melody: Flute & strings weaving parallel strands.

Thus, Carnatic monody is enriched with polyphonic suggestion, giving listeners the impression of dialogic layering.


6. Cinematic Resonance

  • Hero = sogham (longing, passion).
  • Heroine = paasam (tenderness, romance).
  • The counterpoint-like layering mirrors their push-and-pull onscreen, aligning music with narrative.

7. A Comparative Note: Bharadwaj vs Ilaiyaraaja

While Bharadwaj’s composition is a masterclass in raga layering, octave contrast, and orchestral subtlety, it naturally invites comparison with Ilaiyaraaja, the maestro who defined Carnatic-cinematic fusion.

  • Rāga Use: Ilaiyaraaja transitions multiple ragas seamlessly; Bharadwaj’s Dharmavati Kalyani interplay is restrained and intimate.
  • Octave & Voice Layering: Ilaiyaraaja often uses dense vocal overlays; Bharadwaj achieves quasi-counterpoint through male/female octave contrast.
  • Interludes & BGM: Ilaiyaraaja uses orchestral climaxes, Bharadwaj uses interludes to support, not overshadow the vocals.
  • Emotional Resonance: Ilaiyaraaja is macrocosmic; Bharadwaj microcosmic, tender, and personal.

In essence, Bharadwaj quietly honours Ilaiyaraaja’s tradition while asserting his own subtle, intimate aesthetic.


8. Why This Song Endures

  • Retains Carnatic grammar in cinematic context.
  • Contrasts engineered as deliberate śilpam.
  • Interludes and BGM sustain mood.
  • Quasi-counterpoint layering gives cross-cultural texture.
  • 25 years later, still resonates as soghamum paasamum serndha anubhaavam.

9. A Salute to Bharadwaj

Composed in 2000, Enakena Yerkanave remains timeless. Bharadwaj’s genius lay in aesthetic engineering—male Dharmavati in lower sthāyi, female Kalyani in higher sthāyi, stitched by lush interludes and eloquent BGM.

This was not “fast-food music” but a banquet steeped in Carnatic tradition yet served on a cinematic platter. Kaalam kaatchi koduththadhu—time itself has testified to Bharadwaj’s marvel.


10. Appendix: Rāga Scales

  • Dharmavati (59th Melakarta)
    • Ārohaam: S R2 G2 M2 P D2 N3 S
    • Avarōhaam: S N3 D2 P M2 G2 R2 S
  • Kalyani (65th Melakarta)
    • Ārohaam: S R2 G3 M2 P D2 N3 S
    • Avarōhaam: S N3 D2 P M2 G3 R2 S

11. Appendix: Western Notation Illustration

Simplified staff notation illustrating octave placement contrast:

  • Male Phrase (Dharmavati, Unnikrishnan) Around Middle C & below (Mandra/Madhya).

Bass clef: C – D – E F# G

 

·         *       Female Phrase (Kalyani, Harini) Octave above Middle C (Tāra sthāyi).

Treble clef: C' – D' – E – F# – G' – A' – B' – C''

This visually demonstrates the vertical separation that produces subtle dialogic tension.

 

12. Hashtags

#EnakenaYerkanave #ParthenRasithen #Bharadwaj #TamilCinema #CarnaticMusic #Dharmavati #Kalyani #RagaAnalysis #IndianFilmMusic #Musicology #CounterpointInCinema #TamilSongsClassic #CarnaticInCinema #Unnikrishnan #Harini #25YearsOfEnakenaYerkanave #IlaiyaraajaComparison #FilmMusicAnalysis

 


Tuesday, 30 September 2025

English: The Glorious Mongrel That Conquered the World (and Why OMG Isn’t NASA)”

English: The Glorious Mongrel That Conquered the World

(and Why OMG Isn’t NASA)

Language, that most mercurial of human inventions, is forever evolving — slippery, inventive, and gloriously impure. Many years ago, my late friend Frank F. Moore — “Tio Franco” to his circle in Denton, Texas. He was a scientist with Poco Graphite in Denton, Texas, a man trained to measure carbon structures rather than turn phrases — put it more pithily, bluntness he declared: “English is a mongrel language.” He passed away in 2017, but the quip lingers, echoing in my mind every time I stumble upon the quirks of acronyms, initialisms, and our Indianised flourishes.

At first blush, the phrase may sound ungenerous, as though our lingua franca were some scruffy street-dog skulking about alleyways. But in truth, his description was spot on. English is a mongrel of the noblest sort: resilient, resourceful, and gloriously unashamed of its mixed heritage.


A Patchwork Parentage

English has never been shy of borrowing, pilfering, or adopting wholesale from every tongue it encountered. Its patchwork parentage is a veritable museum of world history:

  • Latin and Greek: scholarly gravitas — philosophy, radius, auditorium.
  • The Saxons and Norsemen: bread-and-butter words — sky, bread, winter, house.
  • The Norman French: aristocratic sheen — judge, court, beef, mutton.
  • India: hundreds of contributions beyond bungalow, curry, and pyjamas:
  • Animals & Nature: cheetah (Sanskrit chitraka), mongoose (Marathi muṅgūs), jackal (Persian via India), banyan (Gujarati vāṇiyo).
  • Food & Drink: curry (Tamil kari), chutney, toddy (tadi), punch (Hindi panch), ginger, mango (Tamil maangai).
  • Everyday Life: pyjamas (Hindi pae jama), shawl (Urdu shal), khaki (Urdu khākī), verandah (Hindi via Portuguese).
  • Other Curiosities: loot (Hindi lut), thug (Hindi/Marathi thag), jungle (Hindi jangal), pundit (Sanskrit pandita), guru.
  • Seafaring Culture: catamaran (Tamil kaṭṭumaram).

The Americas, meanwhile, added tomato, chocolate, hurricane, and barbecue.

If words were dowries, English has been married a dozen times over. And the beauty is, it makes no attempt to hide its mixed parentage. Where the French wring their hands over la pureté de la langue française, English cheerfully shrugs and says: “Come along, old chap, you’re one of us now.”


A Linguistic Masala

English has absorbed India’s exotic ingredients and everyday mundanity alike — verandah, khaki, cheetah, catamaran — producing a global thali of words.


Acronyms vs Initialisms

Consider BBC, NASA, OMG, WHO, ISRO — do we know the difference?

Initialism: You read each letter separately

  • BBC → Bee Bee See
  • USA → You Ess Ay
  • OMG → Oh Em Gee
  • WHO → Double You Aitch Oh
  • ISRO is also an initialism — launching satellites, not words.

Acronym: Pronounced as a word

  • NASA → Nassa
  • FIFA → Fee-fah
  • SIM → Sim
  • WHO → sometimes Who

The Indian Quirk

In India, BCCI is often called an acronym, SIM cards are “filled,” showcasing Indian English’s flexibility and inventive charm.


The Larger Lesson & Closing Thought

English is gloriously inconsistent yet forgiving. It thrives on promiscuity, welcomes newcomers, and remains the most successful mongrel language in history. Text OMG, read NASA bulletins, admire ISRO, and order tandoori chicken — all in English.

In memory of Frank F. Moore (“Tio Franco”), who first reminded me that English is, and will always be, a glorious mongrel.


The Indian English Mosaic — Where English Found New Life

When English crossed the seas to India, it did not remain the Queen’s tongue for long. It began listening to other languages — Tamil, Hindi, Bengali, Urdu, Malayalam — and soon started speaking in a rhythm and idiom entirely its own. English in India is no longer a foreign import; it is a naturalised citizen, a living, evolving presence that reflects the multilingual soul of the subcontinent.

Once, while speaking with my Irish–American friend Frank F. Moore, I said I was “looking for something concrete.” He looked puzzled. For him, concrete meant cement and gravel — but for me, an Indian, it also meant definite, pucca, confirmed. This is how Indian English lives — by taking British words and bending them to Indian realities.

In Indian cities and small towns alike, English has found new idioms, new lives, and new humour. It is the lingua franca of officialdom and cinema, cricket commentary and everyday speech — an English that thinks in many languages at once.


Everyday Conversations — When British English Meets Indian English

A popular online exchange between a British man and an Indian girl went viral for good reason — it showed how the same language wears two very different cultural costumes. Here are a few of the delightful contrasts that reveal how Indian English has carved its own rhythm and meaning.

British English Indian English Context / Note
BlisterShoe biteUsed when new shoes hurt the heel — everyday Indian usage.
School lunchTiffin“Tiffin” refers to a packed lunch or a light meal, from South-Asian colonial slang.
MeatNon-vegMenu distinction between veg and non-veg; entirely Indian in origin.
YoghurtCurdHome-made fermented milk, a daily staple in most Indian homes.
One hundred thousandOne lakhPart of the Indian numbering system. We write it as 1,00,000.
One million / ten lakhTen lakh / One croreIndian English often uses “lakh” for 100,000 and “crore” for 10,000,000. Commas are placed differently: 1,00,000 = 1 lakh, 10,00,000 = 10 lakh, 1,00,00,000 = 1 crore, and figures can go much higher.
Bring forwardPreponeA uniquely Indian innovation — the opposite of postpone.
I’ve arrivedI’ve reachedPreferred phrasing when informing someone of one’s arrival.
Out of townOut of stationRailway-era idiom that lives on in offices and government circles.
I’m killing timeI’m doing timepassCheerful colloquialism for idling or casual chatter.
WarehouseGodownFrom Anglo-Indian usage; still common in business English.

These examples show not incorrect English but a living dialect — expressive, inventive, and tuned to the rhythms of Indian life. The numbering system alone demonstrates a distinctive Indian logic, where commas and terms like lakh and crore help us navigate extremely large figures effortlessly.


Regional Flavours and Variations

Indian English is not a monolith; it wears different regional accents, idioms, and vocabulary across the subcontinent. The influence of local languages, culture, and history gives each region its own flavour:

  • South India: Tamil Nadu, Andhra Pradesh, Karnataka, Pondicherry — retains many colonial English terms; pronunciation influenced by Dravidian phonetics; formal and literary expressions survive.
  • North and West India: Hindi, Marathi, Gujarati influences; some words borrowed directly from local languages; syntax sometimes mirrors Hindi grammar.
  • East and North-East India: Bengali, Assamese, and other languages influence tone and vocabulary; retains British pronunciation patterns more strongly.

Anglo-Indian English — The Forgotten Bridge

Another fascinating layer of Indian English is Anglo-Indian English, historically spoken in Madras, Calcutta, Bangalore, and other cantonment towns. This variant arose among the Eurasian community during colonial times and served as a bridge between British and Indian cultures.

Examples include:

  • “She’s gone for a small walk.” — charmingly formal, yet intimate.
  • Use of older British idioms, preserved long after the British left.
  • Vocabulary often blends British English with local Indian syntax.

Today, echoes of Anglo-Indian English survive in South Indian speech, in writing, and in popular cinema, giving modern Indian English its soft, polite, and rhythmically distinct tone.


When Words Take a Detour — The Curious Case of Stepney

Some English words in India live double lives. Take Stepney. Literally, it is a spare tyre — but in slang, it also refers to a mistress kept apart from one’s wife. The origin? Stepney is a town in East London historically famous for spare wheels. Only in India did it evolve its cheeky second meaning.

Puncture — A Flat Tyre and More

Similarly, in Indian English, a puncture is not just the act of puncturing; it has become the default term for a flat tyre, the shop where it is repaired, and even the mechanic’s domain. For example:

“There’s a puncture shop near the signal; they’ll fix your Stepney in ten minutes.”

Indian roads are littered with linguistic surprises like this — words that British English speakers recognise, but whose Indian meaning has subtly shifted.


The Car Still Speaks British — Motoring English in India

Indian English retains many colonial-era motoring terms, often with unique Indian usage:

Term Indian English Usage Note
Steering WheelSteering WheelStandard usage
DickyBootBritish “dicky” = car boot/ trunk
BonnetHoodClassic British term retained
StepneySpare tyre / mistressDouble life of a word
PunctureFlat tyre / repair shopCommon Indian English usage
RoundanaRoundaboutSouth Indian local slang
PetrolPetrolRetained British usage
IndicatorBlinkerBritish/Indian retention

Indian English Slang and Local Colour

Indian English is wonderfully inventive, full of slang, idioms, and cultural resonances:

  • Pucca / Pukka: confirmed, solid, reliable.
  • Funda: concept or principle.
  • Co-brother: brother-in-law, often son’s father-in-law.
  • Hotel: restaurant, not lodging.
  • Timepass: idling, casual fun.
  • Batchmate: school or college peer.

OC — A Tamil Nadu Special

OC (short for On Company) is a uniquely Tamil Nadu / South Indian English term used to indicate that something is free of cost — whether a service, a gift, or an item provided without payment. The term traces back to colonial times when letters bearing OC were sent free of postage by the East India Company.

Today, people in Tamil Nadu still use the term OC casually. For example:

  • "Don’t pay for the sweets; they are OC."
  • "This ticket was OC — got it as a gift from a friend."
Key Notes:
  • Exclusive to Tamil Nadu and some adjoining regions — rare elsewhere in India.
  • Originates from the colonial postal abbreviation On Company.
  • Widely understood in everyday Tamil Nadu English, especially for gifts, freebies, or complimentary items.
  • Demonstrates how colonial and local histories merge into regional English variants.

Indian English doesn’t borrow from its mother tongues; it converses with them. Each word carries the weight of centuries of cultural contact, humour, and colonial history, making the language rich, playful, and unmistakably Indian.


Butler English — A Colonial Relic

Another fascinating, though now rare, variety connected to India’s English history is Butler English — historically also called Bearer English or Kitchen English. It developed during the British colonial era, especially in the Madras Presidency, as an occupational dialect used between British masters and Indian household staff. ([Wikipedia])

Note: Butler English was historically used by domestic staff in British households, simplifying grammar and vocabulary for functional communication. I remember hearing it frequently in my childhood, though today it is rare, surviving only occasionally in certain pockets. ([Read more])

Butler English was not “bad English”; rather, it was a practical adaptation of English for everyday communication, with structural features resembling pidgins. Key characteristics include:

  • Simplified grammar and reduced inflections;
  • Omission of auxiliary verbs such as is or have;
  • Use of been as a past tense marker;
  • Concise vocabulary suited to household and social contexts. ([Wikipedia])

Illustrative examples of Butler English phrases include:

One master call for come India … eh England. I say not coming. That master very liking me.” — a snippet showing how meaning was conveyed through simplified constructions. ([Wikipedia])
Key Notes on Butler English:
  • Originated in the Madras Presidency during British colonial rule, primarily for domestic and social communication.
  • Shares features with pidgins — simplified grammar, reduced forms, and functional vocabulary.
  • Illustrates a style distinct from modern Indian English, reflecting colonial occupational roots.
  • Rarely used today; survives only in isolated pockets or through historical memory and anecdotes.
  • Highlights English’s adaptability and flexibility across social and cultural contexts.

English in the Indian Imagination

English came to India as a visitor, but it stayed as a member of the household. It absorbed, adapted, and evolved. It listens to Tamil prayers, sings Hindi songs, debates Urdu poetry, and orders dosa at the local café — all in the same sentence. It has learned to eat with its hands, dance to the beat of Indian streets, and still keep the Queen’s grammar at bay when needed.

Truly, Indian English is not a deviation. It is a triumphant hybrid, a living testament to how a language can survive, thrive, and flourish by embracing multiplicity rather than purity.


Closing Thought

The next time someone tosses “OMG” or “NASA” into the conversation, you may gently enlighten them: both are abbreviations, but only one is an acronym. And if you wish to impress further, point out that WHO is both — a rare double agent in the world of words.

Yes, English is a mongrel. But it is also the most successful mongrel in history — resourceful, resilient, and utterly unashamed of its eclectic parentage. And perhaps that is why, when the story of human civilisation is told in centuries to come, it will most likely be told — in English.

In memory of Frank F. Moore (“Tio Franco”), who first reminded me that English is, and will always be, a glorious mongrel.

#EnglishLanguage #Linguistics #WordNerd #Etymology #IndianEnglish #GlobalEnglish #LanguageMongrel #MongrelMeansGlory #FlexibleEnglish #AcronymsVsInitialisms #OMG #NASA #ISRO #WordCulture #LanguageTrivia #EnglishIsFun #LanguageHistory #ColonialLegacy #ButlerEnglish #IndianSlang #GlobalThaliOfWords

© Dhinakar Rajaram, 2025 — Bibliotheque Series: Science, Memory and the Indian Gaze. All rights reserved. The term “mongrel” is used here to celebrate English’s remarkable adaptability, eclectic heritage, and global reach — it is a term of admiration, not insult. No part of this blog may be reproduced or used without proper attribution.

Thursday, 18 September 2025

Pamban’s Subaqueous Diurnal: On the ‘Undersea River’ of the Palk Strait


 

Stand upon the storied Pamban Bridge — that elegant steel span linking Rameswaram Island with the Tamil littoral — and one may observe a marvel most unsuspected: beneath, the waters surge not with random caprice but with the gravitas of a river, flowing one way for half the year and then, like Janus turning his twin visages, reversing course for the next. Locals, with their penchant for evocative metaphor, have dubbed it an “undersea river.” Oceanographers, with their charts and instruments, term it more prosaically the seasonally reversing current of the Palk Strait.


The Phenomenon Explained:

The narrow channel between India and Sri Lanka is the meeting ground of two mighty seasonal regimes: the South-West and North-East monsoons. Between March and September, the current flows northward — an aqueous conveyor belt carrying warmth and suspended silt. Come October, the wheel turns; the North-East monsoon asserts dominion, and the flow reverses, coursing southward until February’s end. This biannual oscillation is no poetic fancy; hydrographic measurements register velocities approaching 0.8 to 1.0 metres per second in the Pamban Pass.


A History of Observation:

Though fishermen and ferrymen had long known of these reversals, it was under the British hydrographer James Rennell in the late eighteenth century that the first systematic surveys were undertaken. Admiralty charts recorded the quixotic currents, and Victorian travellers waxed lyrical about “a tide that runs like a river in the sea.” In modern times, oceanographic satellites and reanalysis datasets — OSCAR, HYCOM, and the Copernicus Marine Service — have confirmed the cyclic nature of this aqueous ballet.


Why It Matters:

This “undersea river” is no mere curiosity. Its bi-directional flow modulates salinity, affects sediment transport, and influences the fragile geomorphology of Adam’s Bridge — that chain of shoals linking Dhanushkodi with Talaimannar. Marine life, too, responds to this ebb and flow; plankton blooms and fish migrations are subtly choreographed by this hidden conductor. Even the fate of harbours and fisheries along Tamil Nadu’s Coromandel coast is tethered to this hydrodynamic see-saw.


The Science behind the Spectacle:

Oceanographers classify these as seasonally reversing monsoon currents, a singular hallmark of the Indian Ocean. Unlike the Gulf Stream, steady in its northward march, or the Kuroshio, constant in its eastward sweep, the East India Coastal Current pirouettes with the monsoons. In the lexicon of the learned, it exemplifies mare clausum in miniature — a semi-enclosed sea where atmospheric whimsy dictates hydrographic choreography.

 

Key findings:

  • The currents in the Palk Strait / Pamban Channel / Gulf of Mannar are strongly influenced by the Indian monsoon and reverse seasonally: broadly, northward flow during March–September and southward flow during October–February/March.

  • Measured current speeds in the Pamban Pass can reach 0.8–1.0 m s⁻¹. These flows are visibly perceptible from Pamban Bridge.

  • First systematic hydrographic recordings were during the British Era (James Rennell, Admiralty surveys).

  • Popular term “undersea river” is metaphorical; scientifically it is a seasonally reversing coastal current.

 

 

Epilogue:

Thus, what to the naked eye from Pamban Bridge appears a quaint curiosity — water flowing like a river beneath the sea — is in fact a grand manifestation of monsoon’s might. Here is India’s littoral geography at its most theatrical: the ocean itself bowing to the subcontinent’s atmospheric rhythms. Sic transit gloria mundi — the tide turns, and with it, the world in miniature.

 

References:

  • Schott, F.A. & McCreary, J.P. (2001). The monsoon circulation of the Indian Ocean. Progress in Oceanography.

  • Vinayachandran, P.N. et al. (2005). Indian Ocean circulation and seasonal reversal along the east coast. Deep Sea Research.

  • Rao, R.R. et al. (2011). Sea level and currents in the Indo–Sri Lanka channel. Continental Shelf Research.

  • Rennell, J. (1781). Chart of the Palk Strait and adjacent seas. Admiralty archives.

 

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