Island chatter

There are several ways to identify a Sri Lankan in a crowd. We clump together at mixed bashes. Smiling with our eyes comes naturally – it’s something to do with the tropical sun. We or they sometimes wear sunglasses indoors. Shy?

They’re the ones who abhor standing in line… unless it’s in the queue at a wedding reception’s batter fried prawns action station. And more often than one realises, we talk with our hands (like Latinos or Southern Europeans?).

Of course, the identification parade to pick out a happy native of Serendip becomes a party if you have a great conversation starter (standard openings include ‘How?’ ‘How’s work?’ ‘Where do you work?’ ‘What school did you go to?’ ‘What’s the score?’).

Once upon a time, we islanders were shy – perhaps it’s a part of our colonial heritage – and would not dream of addressing someone to whom we hadn’t been formally introduced. All that’s part of the past… much like our winning streak at the world contests in the game of glorious uncertainties.

But that (like a Sri Lankan queuing up) is neither here nor there. This is about how to pick out an islander at a cocktail party simply by their verbal shenanigans. Here’s a tip or three…

‘HOW THE HEAT’ This is an all-weather ‘hello, how do you do?’ It can be raining mewling roof cats and puking street dogs… but we islanders will open the batting with an enquiry about the relative humidity. And if you listen closely, the answer is always something like ‘very hot, no?’ or ‘don’t talk, men.’ A variation on the theme in monsoon months is ‘how the rain.’

‘AS PER USUAL’ If you’re a foreigner, welcome to the charming Sri Lankan habit of adding insult to injury. Where you’d say it was ‘as usual’ or ‘per’ custom and tradition, we’d essay that things are ‘as per usual’ if all’s well, as usual; or all’s not well, per standard operational procedure for everything from weather to traffic to standing in line at the batter friend prawns action station.

‘NORMAL FORM?’ This is a variation of ‘as per usual.’ The sentiment behind such a statement can range from amusement at the ‘rain stops play’ for cricketing prospects at any World Cup held in England – another blessed isle where no one ever seems to say ‘how the rain’ – to annoyance that one is stuck in traffic again or last in the b. f. p. a. s. line…

‘NO POINT IN TALKING!’ A cheerful indication that you’re thoroughly enjoying a pointless conversation – colloquially referred to as ‘putting a chat’ – and that you’d like the tête-à-tête to continue until the rain stops at least. If you’re keen to hear more, you must liberally sprinkle the giveand-take with several ‘don’t talk mens’ and ‘as per usual.’ Don’t forget to bob your head up and down as well as sideways, and let your hands do the talking too.

‘DO THE NEEDFUL’ It’s a quirky reassurance that you have what it takes and will do whatever’s necessary to ensure that the job gets done. A minor problem is that the type of person who resorts to such a seemingly charming idiosyncrasy of the language is the last person to be trusted with the task at hand… e.g. Leave it to His Excellency; he’ll do the needful. No, he won’t. Normal form, no?’

‘I’LL TAKE YOUR LEAVE’ Not unless you’ve taken leave of your linguistic senses. But we’re to be forgiven for getting it back to front. And if you want to take your leave of me, that’s all right. But before you go, ‘how the rain at the recent Cricket World Cup?’ Wish someone at the ICC would do the needful, and ensure that the summer game is played somewhere bright and blessedly free of island weather! On that note, I’ll take my leave of you.