<p>I stepped into the crowded office elevator when this newly-joined colleague loftily greeted me with ‘Hey dude’. Not used to being acknowledged with these newfangled terms, I balked, responding with a discreet ‘hi’. I’ve heard youngsters mouthing that four-letter word but this was the first time someone called me dude.<br /><br /></p>.<p>If dude sounded casual and uncool or perhaps a bit odd to my untrained ear, it felt awkward when one of the hosts approached me at an event some months ago saying “chief, can I have your card?” Nor was it flattering when, recently at the airport, a stranger tapped me on my back, “boss, can I borrow your pen please?”<br /><br />And when the elderly gentleman accosted me on the road saying ‘Ustad’, I wondered if I was being overly sensitive to these trendy salutations. Then it struck me how over the years we have all greeted one another in different ways depending on the times, the mood and the circumstances. People of my generation may recall that during our junior school days when friends ran into each other, it had to be ‘what ra,’ ‘come ra,’ ‘go ra’ and that subsequently was recreated to ‘hi da,’ ‘bye da.’<br /><br />When we hit the terrible teens, we blindly aped our seniors and the common form of greeting was ‘eh bugga’ or ‘what bop’, expressions that our teachers and parents disapproved as slang. Ironically, some of our teachers used words like ‘I say’ or ‘what man’. One elderly teacher habitually called us ‘fellows’ or ‘chaps’ or ‘blokes’. <br /><br />I cannot recall the origins of ‘pal’, but it was commonplace during college days to hear, ‘hi pal.’ Perhaps, it was a substitute for friend and picked up from ‘pen pals’ a regular column in magazines of the 70s and 80s. Then, the more universal terms that replaced pal was buddy and mate that are common even today. In the more liberal environs of colleges, even vernacular terms were heard frequently such as ‘macha’, ‘buddhi’, ‘anna’ or ‘thambi,’ ‘guru,’ ‘yaar’ and ‘bhai.’ These words were also bandied about freely and endearingly by shop-men, bus drivers and conductors, hawkers and just about anybody.<br /><br />Working in a multinational firm, inevitably connects people from all corners of the globe and when Luke joined our team from Singapore, we were amused to hear him say ‘hi la’ every morning. And during a training programme, an American trainer tickled us no end with his ‘yo’ and ‘bro’. Of course, no one has called me a champ or hero but a couple of my friends have used these glorifying terms to greet my son. <br />It may sound gimmicky but some like to sound affectionate. A female PR executive invariably calls everyone ‘sweet heart’ while another wishes all and sundry with ‘hi love.’<br /><br />Lastly, If I felt dude was not cool, I did feel hot under the collar when an auto driver brusquely responded “thaatha (grandfather), I know how to drive” when I requested him to slow down.</p>
<p>I stepped into the crowded office elevator when this newly-joined colleague loftily greeted me with ‘Hey dude’. Not used to being acknowledged with these newfangled terms, I balked, responding with a discreet ‘hi’. I’ve heard youngsters mouthing that four-letter word but this was the first time someone called me dude.<br /><br /></p>.<p>If dude sounded casual and uncool or perhaps a bit odd to my untrained ear, it felt awkward when one of the hosts approached me at an event some months ago saying “chief, can I have your card?” Nor was it flattering when, recently at the airport, a stranger tapped me on my back, “boss, can I borrow your pen please?”<br /><br />And when the elderly gentleman accosted me on the road saying ‘Ustad’, I wondered if I was being overly sensitive to these trendy salutations. Then it struck me how over the years we have all greeted one another in different ways depending on the times, the mood and the circumstances. People of my generation may recall that during our junior school days when friends ran into each other, it had to be ‘what ra,’ ‘come ra,’ ‘go ra’ and that subsequently was recreated to ‘hi da,’ ‘bye da.’<br /><br />When we hit the terrible teens, we blindly aped our seniors and the common form of greeting was ‘eh bugga’ or ‘what bop’, expressions that our teachers and parents disapproved as slang. Ironically, some of our teachers used words like ‘I say’ or ‘what man’. One elderly teacher habitually called us ‘fellows’ or ‘chaps’ or ‘blokes’. <br /><br />I cannot recall the origins of ‘pal’, but it was commonplace during college days to hear, ‘hi pal.’ Perhaps, it was a substitute for friend and picked up from ‘pen pals’ a regular column in magazines of the 70s and 80s. Then, the more universal terms that replaced pal was buddy and mate that are common even today. In the more liberal environs of colleges, even vernacular terms were heard frequently such as ‘macha’, ‘buddhi’, ‘anna’ or ‘thambi,’ ‘guru,’ ‘yaar’ and ‘bhai.’ These words were also bandied about freely and endearingly by shop-men, bus drivers and conductors, hawkers and just about anybody.<br /><br />Working in a multinational firm, inevitably connects people from all corners of the globe and when Luke joined our team from Singapore, we were amused to hear him say ‘hi la’ every morning. And during a training programme, an American trainer tickled us no end with his ‘yo’ and ‘bro’. Of course, no one has called me a champ or hero but a couple of my friends have used these glorifying terms to greet my son. <br />It may sound gimmicky but some like to sound affectionate. A female PR executive invariably calls everyone ‘sweet heart’ while another wishes all and sundry with ‘hi love.’<br /><br />Lastly, If I felt dude was not cool, I did feel hot under the collar when an auto driver brusquely responded “thaatha (grandfather), I know how to drive” when I requested him to slow down.</p>
