Of Varied Dialects

Idiom: Alles hat ein Ende, nur die Wurst hat zwei.
Translation: Everything has one end, only the sausage has two.
Meaning: Everything comes to an end.

Cuilot had everything he had wanted. He had a loving family, a decent house, enough money to be able to satisfy his wants. He studied at the Morte University, one of the esteemed universities in the district. He was a smart child who could have passed as an adult if not for his low stature. His life would have been called perfect by some wishful thinkers.
Nothing good lasts for long. His entire life was shattered when his house burned down with his family. Cuilot could never get over the painful blaze which left him without anything. He stayed at his uncle’s house.
He wept for about a day after which he was temporarily embraced by sleep. In the morning, he refused to talk to anyone. Gradually he retracted himself from all attachments. He failed miserably at that. His heart constantly reminded him of what he had lost. His uncle decided to take matters in his own hands when he snapped at his friend who called him out to play. He scribbled out a note and left it on his writing desk.
Reading the note, Cuilot started to cry but as he read on, he pushed back the tears. The note said, “You may be upset because of your loss. You have great reason to be. However, there are people who go through greater pain and come out stronger. Strong does not mean hard. You must learn that Alles hat ein Ende, nur die Wurst hat zwei.
You can choose to end living like this and choose to be stronger or you can mope around feeling that life is unfair and never have even a chance to grow.”

-Rtr. Deval Savla



Idiom: Sambil menyelam, minum air.
Translation: While diving, drink water.
Meaning: Accomplish two things at once.

This Indonesian idiom, I guess, must have been taken straight out of the handbook “A layman’s guide to survive (and succeed) in the 21st Century”. And while our layman ancestors were busy writing this handbook for us, they definitely highlighted this one idiom with every neon highlighter colour there was available in the market because this one idiom is pivotal in our Millennial and Generation Z lives.
Basically, this idiom is invoking the hidden multi-tasker inside us to come up the forefront to make our complicated and mismanaged life simpler.
So not taking the gross literal meaning of the saying, which is to drink water out of the pool while swimming because many people pee in that pool (you know who you are!) even though your breaststroke is making you super parched and thirsty; this saying advises us to smartly do two things at once, so as to reap double benefits out of a single action thereby making time for other important work.
Most of us multitask every day, most unconsciously, like answering those text messages to those dear friends even while our phone is charging when we know that its detrimental to the battery life and that one stranger from far away’s cell phone blew up when he was doing the same (no offence!). But no, this idiom is much more than that. We should complete more work with less effort by engaging our effort wisely. Our effort involved should be less but more things should be done at one stop.
 Like taking the local back home in the evening and simultaneously planning and improvising the best outfit and jewellery in our head for the night out later so when you reach back home you don’t stare at your wardrobe listlessly and get time to brush up on that perfect mascara stroke.
Then primarily, this Indonesian idiom asks you to do smart work and not hard work. Like its English counterpart that is “Killing two birds with one stone.” For that, we have to brush up on our management skills.
So, the next time you’re working on one job, think of another job that can be done simultaneously to prevent piling up of work. Visit your friends while sightseeing in some new place. Or pick up a gift for your hardworking mother in your next trip to the mall. There is so much to be done, so little time, therefore get smart ASAP.

-Rtr. Pooja Sharma


Idiom: Nie mój cyrk, nie moje małpy.
Translation: Not my circus, not my monkeys.
Meaning: Not my problem.

The handsomely scarred stranger walked into the room with a loping grace like that of a lion. His bright eyes flashed across the room before he lowered himself into the hard uncomfortable chair before nodding at the secretary at the desk to announce his arrival. “Mr. Hannigan is here.” She whispered nervously. He didn’t turn as he heard the door bang and the familiar voice of Jack Saunders infiltrate the room. The personality that made other people shake with fear, had no effect on his countenance, which, if anything, became more rigid.
“Hannigan.” Jack Saunders nodded at him before sitting across him. He looked tired and worn out. The cops had been after the king of mafia for a year or two now, and faithful spies had wormed their way into his inner circle without his knowledge, almost costing him his life. His two narrow escapes from certain death had been only due to the remarkable Hannigan, who for unknown reasons had pledged his fealty to the don.
“What do you think will be their next move?” Saunders turned to Hannigan with a ring of hope in his voice. Hannigan gazed upward for a minute or two before responding. When he spoke at last, his hoarse voice rang out loud and clear, sweeping assurance over the trembling, wired up convict who had once been feared all over the world. “They’ll target your safety houses one by one. None of them is safe. There’s no hope for you if you follow what would be called the usual course of action.” He said with finality. “But?” asked Saunders, unable to keep the fear out of his voice this time.
 “I know a place. I have it on lease. It’s a quiet, out of the way spot, very near to the coast line. Tomorrow morning once things have died down, you can set sail for Dartmoor. They’ll probably give up the chase once you breach the boundary.” Saunders’ shoulders sagged with relief as he clasped Hannigan’s hand.
They left for the hidey hole immediately. The journey was uneventful. Hannigan and Saunders entered the house together. As Hannigan poured out the brandy, he casually asked, “How many of your crimes do you regret?” “None.” said Saunders in a cold and cruel voice. “There is power out there for those who are brave enough to seek it and for those who are not.” he shrugged non-committally. “they deserve what they get, naturally.” Hannigan completed blandly. “Excuse me; I must make a phone call.” He left the room.
He returned a while later. Sipping his brandy, he asked Saunders, “Do you recollect an encounter with a poor lady who lived under this bridge?” he gestured out of the window. “What lady?” asked Saunders, surprised. “The one you murdered after you raped in your drunken stupor?” Hannigan’s voice became hard and cold just as they heard the wailing of sirens outside the house. Saunders jumped to his feet. “Who are you?” he asked incredulously. “I’m your worst nightmare.” said Hannigan casually. “You thought that went unnoticed did you? Didn’t see a young boy who watched the heinous crime you committed and swore to take revenge for his mother. Didn’t see the wolf in the sheep’s skin.” He gestured at himself. “There are two ways out of this Saunders, either you get arrested or….” he trailed off, looking at the glass of untouched brandy. In desperation, Saunders drank it but nothing happened. Hannigan laughed. “That was your last hope. I crushed it.” he smirked. As the door opened and the police came, Saunders said – “We had a deal, you rogue! You can’t leave me suffering..” before Hannigan jumped out the window, he called out – “ Nie moj cyrk, nie moj malpy.” And the cops found Saunders shouting himself hoarse at an open window, begging for one bullet, begging to end it all. Nobody knew who Mike Hannigan was, and what he had done, as he walked away into the night, having caused the downfall of the said invincible Saunders. He disappeared into the darkness, never to be seen again.


-Rtr. Arpita Ramdoss


Idiom: Donner sa langue au chat.
Translation: To give one’s tongue to the cat.
Meaning: To not be able to guess

Jason was a workaholic. He was twenty seven years old and he had got his dream job of working in the world’s top financing firm as an investment banker. His office hours generally started late because they ended quite late at night. He never had time for anything or anyone. He had shifted out of his parent’s house and stayed in an apartment bear to his office. Life for him could be summed up in three words- stock prices, phone calls and ‘meeting with the head of that company.’ A pretty much boring guy. He had the looks which girls loved but ‘sorry I need to get to work.’

Jason’s life changed after that exhilarating trip to India. His boss sent him to India to look at the property valuations of a certain Mr. Chauhan who had requested a loan of around one million dollars in order to upgrade his business technology. He had his offices in the States but he had some property back in India which he had offered to give the firm as a security until he paid back the sum. Jason left as soon as he was assigned the task and that’s how a life upheaval began.

He landed in Jaipur at around two in the morning and checked into a hotel for a few hours as he was to leave for Surajgad the next day at around nine in the morning. This was the first time he had got out of his home city, Boston, and as he looked out at the asleep city from his bedroom window, he felt a strange happiness which he hadn’t known before. Next day, he reached Surajgad as the sun came vertically on top of his head. He was going to stay at Mr. Chauhan’s large mansion for two days before flying out.
As soon as he reached the entrance, he was greeted by a pretty woman, dressed in Indian traditional clothes. Jason was taken aback by her beautiful smile and those black eyes. After a moment, he realized he had been staring and cleared his throat while the lady introduced herself, “ Hello and welcome to Chauhan mansion. I am Anali, manager of this house and we have got all arrangements ready for your comfortable stay.” “Oh umm yeah, I mean, thank you, I uh am Jason and thanks again for the welcome. Well umm hot isn’t it?” blabbered on Jason, still staring at her like a lost puppy. She replied,” Well get in and we’ll serve you a refreshing meal.”

She led him inside while another man carried his bag to his room. Jason was awestruck by the beauty of the mansion. It was sprawling and had an old world charm to it. Definitely, worth a lot, he thought as they entered the dining room.

After having a sumptuous meal, Anali showed him his room and Jason had a difficulty in deciding who was prettier- Anali or the room. Oh stop obsessing over her, said a voice in his mind, but she was still smiling so sweetly at him that he couldn’t help but smile back. He felt that strange happiness again. He was awestruck and bewildered.

After a quick nap, Jason set about looking through the mansion along with Anali who had brought out all the files to show him the estimated value of the mansion. Never before had Jason truly enjoyed going through the numbers as much as he did with her. She was spirited in her talk and her smile never seemed to leave her face. Jason found himself staring at a girl like never before. She seemed to be of his age only and yet she talked with the energy of a kid. Looking at her, Jason realised, what had become of him. He stayed grim all the time, going about his work seriously, without caring about the things around him. Anali seemed to talk about the mansion as if it were a living person. She described each and every part of it with such warmth and love that made Jason miss his home, miss his parents and he found himself questioning his lifestyle which he thought was perfect up till now.

That night Jason couldn’t sleep. He kept regretting all the time he had lost with his family and friends. He got out if his room and decided to take a walk in the lawns. There, to his surprise, he found Anali, lying on a mat, looking at the sky. “Mind if I join you?” he asked her.
“No, not at all.” She sat upright while he settled besides her. He was eager to know more about her and so he asked, “So you have been working here for long now?” “Actually,” Anali smiled, “I am Anali Chauhan, daughter of Rajveer Chauhan, the owner of this house.” Jason was stunned to know that. He was strangely reminded of the french idiom he had studied back in high school- donner sa langue au chat. He would have never guessed this if Anali hadn’t told him. “Then why do you live here and not with your parents back in USA.” Anali answered, “When I was young, we used to come here for holidays and I used to love it. I love this house. It’s close to my heart and so when Dad was searching for someone to look after it, I jumped at the chance.” They talked for a long time before resigning to their rooms. However, Anali’s reason of why she stayed here made Jason think deeply. She did what got her happiness and that reflected on her being. Whereas he, who thought until now had his dream job, realized that even though he loved his work, he couldn’t let it become his complete existence. His job was important but so were a thousand other things which made him smile.

The next day passed by quickly with Jason preparing his report and a small sightseeing tour of Surajgad arranged by Anali. As the new day dawned, Jason got his bag ready to return home. As Anali bid him goodbye, Jason knew what he had to do. He went up to her and said, “Anali you will think what a creep I am to say this but I have to say it. I like you and maybe we could meet up again someday when you are in USA?”

Anali smiled at him and said, “Or maybe you could come here?” “Maybe I will,” smiled Jason. “Actually, I definitely will.” “I’ll be waiting,” said Anali. “Is that a yes then?” asked Jason hopefully. “You did give me your number right?” “Yeah I did,” said Jason. “Well then, you will be hearing from me soon enough.” Jason continued to look at her disappearing form waving at him, from the side window of the car, taking in her beautiful smile.

Four years later, Jason moved to Surajgad with Anali. Both of them now managed Surajgad’s affairs with plans of converting half of it into a luxury hotel. He had finally found his true calling which gave him that strange feeling of happiness which had now grown on him.

-Rtr. Esha Mehta