Wordaholic, trynasty and other portmanteaus ~ Malinda Words

This Sunday morning, as I write, Novak Djokovic (36) is yet to play for the Wimbledon men’s tennis title against 20-year old Carlos Alcaraz. The experts are backing Novak and rightly so, but they do not rule out an upset.

By the time this article is published, we will know if Novak has tied Roger Federer’s record for eight Wimbledon titles of if Carlos, finally, has signalled (at least) the beginning of the end of the Big Three Era (that’s the years and years and years in which Rafael Nadal, Roger and Novak himself dominated men’s tennis).

Tony Courseault, astute student of most sports, in particular basketball, Dulan Edirisinghe (former National Chess Champion and avid sports follower, soccer, basketball and tennis in particular) and I discuss these sports throughout the year. Right now it’s about Wimbledon. Tony agreed with me, ‘it could be a classic,’ but added ‘beginning of the changing of the guard.’

I said I don’t know who I want to win and he said he knew what I meant. Changing of the guard, yes, but there’s a part of me that wants old men to win, I said.

‘I want to see new blood, but history is being made every time Novak or Nadal makes the grand slam final,’ Tony said.

My response: ‘The Trinasty: Fed, Rafa and Novak.’

Tony liked that ‘portmanteau.’

It was the first time I heard the word, so I looked it up: ‘a word blending the sounds and combining the meanings of two others, for example or brunch.ˆ’

It’s good to learn a new word everyday. For what it was worth, I checked the meaning of ‘dynasty’ for the first time. Apparently it’s derived from the Greek word ‘dunastēs’ which means ‘be able,’ later associated with family and power.

Novak, Rafa and Roger are like that. A family of sorts. Brothers who respect each other deeply even when they are sibling-rivalling. 'Trynasty' could make sense.

So I was thinking about words and remembered how the Sinhala political lexicon got a bunch of new words over the last thirty years. The collapse of the Soviet bloc, keener exploration of alternative radical utopias and greater awareness of postmodernism persuaded some people to coin new words so that some of the ‘new’ ideas (for the West) could be shared with people not too conversant in English.

Of course, all of those concepts were already there in Buddhist philosophy, but that’s another story. Prof Jayadeva Uyangoda, according to Nirmal Ranjith Devasiri, was one of the first to take on this task. Nirmal himself, along with Sunil Wijesiriwardena had come up with ‘Kathika’ for a cultural page they had compiled for the now defunct ‘Yukthiya’ newspaper, obtained from ‘Kathikaava.’ Deepthi Kumara Gunaratne of the ‘X Kandaayama’ and fellow ideological travellers like Rajith Perera and Rohan Perera as well as the linguist Wimal Dissanayake have all contributed. Few would know who coined these words or under what circumstances, but they are now commonly used in political discussions in all kinds of forums. Indeed, they are not taken as givens by more formal academics, i.e. those in the university systems.

They are not portmanteaus, no. Sometimes words have to be coined. Sinhala text books, especially those compiled for subjects such as Science, Chemistry, Physics, Mathematics etc., are full of tongue-twisters, words (perhaps hastily) ‘translated’ from English scientific dictionaries.

And then there are words that seem to have fallen from the sky; only they did not, someone, somewhere, on some occasion, for some reason came up with them. ‘Ablik,’ I remember from a poster about a play titled ‘Aney Ablik.’ Years later I thought it must be a corruption of ‘oblique.’ Kamal Addarraarachchchi had come to the same conclusion on his own.

Words are fascinating things. Their etymologies tell us a lot of things about history and appropriation. They are for so many reasons the building blocks of language and therefore communication. Their multiple means empower poets as well as comedians. And politicians.

I still remember Wimal Weerawansa’s pithy two line post-mortem of the April 2010 General Election (from his perspective of course): ‘Ratata aadare ayate rata giyaa; badata aadare ayata bada giyaa.’ (The country went to those who loved the country, and those who loved their stomachs suffered diarrhoea — ‘bada giyaa' or, literally, ‘stomach went’ being the Sinhala colloquial term for ‘diarrhoea’).

I am not saying that those local postmodernists, self-styled following their peculiar reading of the leading figures of ‘new’ social theory, literary theory and postmodernism, are not word-fixated. They are not ‘wordaholics,’ but they’ve given us a lot and made it easier to discuss certain things.

Portmanteaus. A new word for me. Just tells me how sound and meaning give rise to words and therefore enriches literature.

Trynasty. There! I’ve tried. Tony appreciated it. But it will not be picked up by the Wimbledon commentators tonight. Someday, maybe. And then no one will acknowledge. Just like we don’t know who came up with ‘Ablik.’ Or ‘oblique,’ for that matter!

malindadocs@gmail.com

['The Morning Inspection' is the title of a column I wrote for the Daily News from 2009 to 2011, one article a day, Monday through Saturday. This is a new series. Links to previous articles in this new series are given below]

17 July 2023

Wordaholic, trynasty and other portmanteaus

0 comments: