Monday, May 31, 2010

Favourite Words

Driftwood – Every time I hear this word I think of chocolate brown logs of wood drifting serenely and contentedly down a loch, against the backdrop of oak trees and a sunless sky, somewhere in the middle of Scotland. Even if the word denotes movement, there’s also a unique stillness to it. And, of course, there’s ‘Driftwood’ by Travis, a soothing song with a deep meaning.
Serendipity – A fortunate accident. The word gets its true essence from ‘serendip’ which is the Persian name for Sri Lanka. One thing’s for sure. If it wasn’t for good ol’ serendipity here, America would’ve been discovered years later, Archimedes would’ve gone on to have a long leisurely bath where he would rinse and lather in peace, nobody would’ve known that nitrous oxide told jokes for a living and chocolate chip cookies would be the stuff of another universe far ,far away.
Cerulean – It’s a crystal clear sky blue. A lot like how the sky is looking right now, thanks to the non-existent rain and the present furnace we’re forced to reside in. Ah, well. I’ll save my indignance for some other time then.
Eyjafjallajökull – Big words and misanthropic volcanoes fascinate me.
Arpeggio - In music, it represents a broken chord. Notes are played one after the other. The word has a really nice sonorous ring to it.
Vienna – The home of Mozart and Strauss. There’s a certain charm and elegance to the word. And according to Billy Joel, Vienna does wait for me indeed…
Golgi –I remember coming across this word in my biology textbook, in the seventh and eighth grade. It’s part of the cell and secretes hormones, enzymes and proteins. One of the cutest words I’ve ever heard of! If I ever get a dog, remind me to name it after this hallowed organelle.
Crumpet – Though I’ve never had the opportunity to try one, it sounds all nice and quaint. Oh, ‘quaint’! That’s another interesting one!
Gild –I always picture a beach lit in various hues of golden sunlight just before sunset. I guess that image will be gilded in my memory.
Bourgeoise – It’s French for ‘the middle class in society’.
Ennui – It’s French for ‘boredom’. Usually the language of ‘ennui’ is spoken quite fluently by most, during the summer where the only interesting thing is getting a haircut because your hair tends to inflate in the humidity. Or eating a bit of Cadbury’s Bournville and imagining someone getting ironed out by a piano falling on their head. Or watching the film ‘Serendipity’ twice in the same month.

2 comments:

  1. Interesting choice of words---
    I was reminded of Mary Poppins and
    'Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious'- how words can trigger creative imagination.
    'Idiosyncratic' was one of my favorites--- it seemed like that had some practical value—because, in life, we do meet such people , or become one
    I am curious as to how some of these words were even created—seems to be some sort of logic (sometimes twisted)—as we read—or learn, especially while studying for SAT exams etc. Good thing you like words—if one makes a game of learning—then it never is a chore and can actually be fun. So next time you are having a hard time remembering how you tackled that difficult math problem or physics principle,get those creative juices flowing and create some new magical words—Eureka!!—the answers will be at your fingertips!! I remember doing that with biochemistry flow charts-It really works!!!
    After all- as someone has wisely said-'All words are pegs to hang ideas on'.
    So here is wishing you no ennui, some good serendipities,lots of ,glids and trips to Viena.Looks like cerulean is your color.May your golgi and other organs stay healthy, May you feel like driftwood as you cruise along your journey of life and may you continue to be fascinated with words like eyja----!!!

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  2. Hey aadya, it has been so long since i checked out your blog. My loss. I see you love the musicality and texture of words, an essential talent for a budding writer. Some words suggest their own meaning by the sound and i am not talking about onomatopoeia. eg. Rapscallion, which means rascal. I too would love to sit on driftwood and glide across a loch in Scotland.

    Happy word discovering and sharing!!

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