
New words for the new millennium
Till a year or two ago I rarely thought of that dread word millennium.8217; Nowadays I find that I8217;ve already thought of it several times by breakfast. Sometimes it wakes me up in a pre-dawn sweat.
Once I reach office, the incidence of the m-word peaks. I join Geeta Rao, my colleague in copywriting and columny, as she gently assuages her account director8217;s angst over advertising moisturiser to the millennium woman. I start sweating again. The account director thinks it8217;s the moisturiser. She doesn8217;t know I have my own angst about the millennium. Is it two I8217;s or one? Two n8217;s or one? Copywriters like Geeta and myself hunt down words to describe accurately, colourfully, memorably whatever we need to convey to our target audiences. Often, it8217;s a matter of dusting out old words. But at times it requires invention. Millennium8217; belongs to the former category. But much that the new millennium will bring falls in the second.
While Geeta speaks to the aforementioned accountdirector in glowing terms about the nineties man, my thoughts turn to a new problem: How will we refer to the next decade? Will we call it the zeroes? The naughts? I refer to the wizard of idiom, Richard Lederer. His recommendation: Call it the ohs. It sounds cheerful. And it 8220;conveys the sense of wonder and infinite potential that awaits us.8221;
However, as Lederer points out, our problems don8217;t end there. What about the following decade? You could call it the teens. But that would be unfair to 2010, 2011 and 2012. Any suggestions?
Talking about the nineties man and the millennium woman, naturally my thoughts turn to love. How will we describe the new-style relationships of the future? In 8217;90s English, we seem to be limited to the all-purpose word love. We love our brothers, our sisters, our dogs. We love McDonalds french fries. We love Hum Dil De Chuke Hai Sanam. All equally, it would seem. It becomes difficult to get a handle on the precise nature and degree of the attraction. Perhaps we couldexpand our English vocabulary with Indian words: pyaar, prem, pranay, preeti8230; It would make English more passionate. And the path to incorporating words has already been cleared by precedent: pundit, pukkah, purdah.
Although we haven8217;t as yet reached the ohs, we8217;re already at a loss for words. We8217;re not quite sure how to describe our girlfriends, lovers, partners, mates, whatever. In the next decade, more and more of us will live together without being married. How will our significant others be addressed? As companions, cohabitors, consorts?
Herb Caen, San Francisco Chronicle columnist, coined the term ummer for live-in lover. As in 8220;this is Anita, my son8217;s8230;ummer..8221; Words like this could make it easier for us to deal with our children8217;s modern ways of living, when they hit their teens in the teens of the next century. And if you don8217;t like ummer, Lederer supplies us with covivant.8217; This word combines Latin and French to give us a felicitous synonym for cohabitor.
Ledererquotes this eulogy to the word:
Were you to be by my covivant
You8217;d never need a restaurant
I8217;d feed you any food you8217;d want8230;
A shrimp fondue, a cheese croissant8211;
Cuisine to please a dilettante
At least you8217;d not be lean and gaunt.
8211;Beverly McDonald
Many are the experiences for which we lack words. But every day, inventive minds are at work, tackling the task of bridging the gap. The internet has thrown up web site, chat room, netizen. Advertising has given us teleshopping, sunscreen, hi-fi. In The Meaning of Life Pan Books and Faber amp; Faber, authors Douglas Adams and John Lloyd have coined words for many of those happenings in life which we can instantly relate to but heretofore have not had words to describe. Perhaps these words will come into common parlance in the ohs and teens. Till then I leave you with a few of my favourites.
Farrancassidy n. A long and unsuccessful attempt to undo someone8217;s bra.
Hagnaby n. Someone who looked a lotmore attractive in the disco than they do in your bed the next morning.
Kalami n. The ancient Eastern art of being able to fold road-maps properly.
Longniddry n. A droplet which persists in running out of your nose.
Nacton n. The n8217; with which cheap advertising copywriters replace the word and8217; as in 8220;fish n8217; chips,8221; 8220;mix n8217; match,8221; 8220;assault n8217; battery,8221; in the mistaken belief it is chummy and endearing.