<p>We all make spelling mistakes from time to time, burst out at our folly and go about correcting them. Distorted spellings on name plates and sign boards are a common sight. The error is usually in a missing letter or a wrong letter used, or the presence or absence of an apostrophe. Many a time the errors are shocking. Whatever may be the case, it is hilarious and calls for sharing of the experience.<br /><br /></p>.<p>Like a bee hovering around flowers, I have an uncanny eye for spellings – usually on menu cards and sign boards. Often, the people running these places are enterprising and ambitious, eager to please their customers. But they seem to be blissfully unaware of the mirth of misspelt words (or could they be a sales gimmick? In some cases, it appears so!).<br /><br />One day, a friend and I happened to drop in to a nearby eatery; our gaze was transfixed on one item on the menu- “Long Fang Soup”. My friend, immensely interested, ordered one. Though she liked the soup, she was disappointed that she didn’t get one single piece of the crunchy fang. I, meanwhile, ignored the “Hot and Sweat soup” and was content on relishing my “Tomota Soup” and “Gopi Manchuri”. The next choice was noodles with “garlick sauce”. We promptly ordered. True to its name, we licked the plate clean. <br /><br />Recently, caught in a traffic jam, I scanned the horizon only to be attracted to a name board – “XYZ bazaar: Specelist in Readymates and Sares”! Though outwardly they were exhibiting a few dresses, I was sure their best “stock” was stashed away in secret compartments inside their shop. Was it worth a try?<br /><br />One day I accompanied my daughter to a nearby tailor, an expert. While he was deftly snipping and stitching away, his sign board conveyed a different story: “We undertake all types Fencil Fit Jeans Altersation”. Perhaps, he had come out with a new fashion concept? <br /><br />Hit the highway and you have plenty to savour – “bronnies”, “fried rise”, “phoolkas” and an array of “those with chatni”, “ parotta with dehi”, “rice bath”, “testy sandwhiches”, “panner burgi”, and the list goes on. You look askance at what goes on behind “No enter to kitchan” or “cash conter”. An old hotel at an important junction in the city still sports its board as – “ABC Hotel – Hotel and Gest House”. A garment shop recently announced their festive “ clearn sale” (I presume brevity being their mantra).<br /><br />These experiences are plenty. And the next time you happen to walk by a make-shift medical centre offering “varginal jadi-booti” medicines from the Himalayas to combat various problems encountered by humans, look closely. Don’t be dissuaded and begin judging these well-meaning souls. It’s all in the mind. <br /></p>
<p>We all make spelling mistakes from time to time, burst out at our folly and go about correcting them. Distorted spellings on name plates and sign boards are a common sight. The error is usually in a missing letter or a wrong letter used, or the presence or absence of an apostrophe. Many a time the errors are shocking. Whatever may be the case, it is hilarious and calls for sharing of the experience.<br /><br /></p>.<p>Like a bee hovering around flowers, I have an uncanny eye for spellings – usually on menu cards and sign boards. Often, the people running these places are enterprising and ambitious, eager to please their customers. But they seem to be blissfully unaware of the mirth of misspelt words (or could they be a sales gimmick? In some cases, it appears so!).<br /><br />One day, a friend and I happened to drop in to a nearby eatery; our gaze was transfixed on one item on the menu- “Long Fang Soup”. My friend, immensely interested, ordered one. Though she liked the soup, she was disappointed that she didn’t get one single piece of the crunchy fang. I, meanwhile, ignored the “Hot and Sweat soup” and was content on relishing my “Tomota Soup” and “Gopi Manchuri”. The next choice was noodles with “garlick sauce”. We promptly ordered. True to its name, we licked the plate clean. <br /><br />Recently, caught in a traffic jam, I scanned the horizon only to be attracted to a name board – “XYZ bazaar: Specelist in Readymates and Sares”! Though outwardly they were exhibiting a few dresses, I was sure their best “stock” was stashed away in secret compartments inside their shop. Was it worth a try?<br /><br />One day I accompanied my daughter to a nearby tailor, an expert. While he was deftly snipping and stitching away, his sign board conveyed a different story: “We undertake all types Fencil Fit Jeans Altersation”. Perhaps, he had come out with a new fashion concept? <br /><br />Hit the highway and you have plenty to savour – “bronnies”, “fried rise”, “phoolkas” and an array of “those with chatni”, “ parotta with dehi”, “rice bath”, “testy sandwhiches”, “panner burgi”, and the list goes on. You look askance at what goes on behind “No enter to kitchan” or “cash conter”. An old hotel at an important junction in the city still sports its board as – “ABC Hotel – Hotel and Gest House”. A garment shop recently announced their festive “ clearn sale” (I presume brevity being their mantra).<br /><br />These experiences are plenty. And the next time you happen to walk by a make-shift medical centre offering “varginal jadi-booti” medicines from the Himalayas to combat various problems encountered by humans, look closely. Don’t be dissuaded and begin judging these well-meaning souls. It’s all in the mind. <br /></p>
