<p class="bodytext">One semester, I was given the formidable task of handling the first-hour class at 7 am. Now, teaching at that ungodly hour is not for the faint-hearted. Students always trickle in late, citing reasons ranging from traffic jams (unlikely in the morning) to mysteriously ailing grandparents. Some stagger in, victims of all-nighters—either for noble academic pursuits or, more likely, adventures that I prefer not to let my imagination explore.</p>.<p class="bodytext">As an English educator, one of my primary missions is to make vocabulary stick in a way that doesn’t feel like an academic ambush. My go-to trick? A game of Hangman. Students love to outwit a teacher any day. I posed a question to my class of 74 bright-eyed (but barely open) first-year students: “What’s a respectable term for a male worker who runs errands for you?” To make things interesting, I drew nine blanks on the board with a space after the third letter. As always, they started with the vowels. “A!” shouted one. I nodded and filled in the second blank: _A_ /_ _ _ _ _ _ . Excited by their first success, they hurled more vowels at me—’I’! I filled in the sixth letter: A / ___I___ . Then came a string of hopeful guesses—O, E, U!—but to their horror, none fit. Three parts of the Hangman were drawn.</p>.<p class="bodytext">The tension in the room rose. Then, a stroke of brilliance. Someone called out N and M! I filled in the letters: M A N. Cheers erupted—they had cracked the first word. Now onto the second. They had an A and an I to work with: F _ I D A _. A smart Alec called out F and D, and before I knew it, the class triumphantly declared: MAN FRIDAY! A mix of pride and disappointment washed over me. That was too easy.</p>.<p class="bodytext">I needed to up the ante. “Now tell me—the female equivalent.” Silence. A ripple of murmurs spread through the room. Then, after a few moments of collective thinking, a bold voice from the back declared, Women Wednesday! The entire class erupted in laughter. I was momentarily stunned—then I too joined them. The sheer ingenuity of the answer had me in splits. And just when I thought they were done, a girl, sitting up straight with all the conviction in the world, added, “Ma’am, it should be Women Everyday, because women do all the work, all day, every day!” A roar of mock applause swept through the room. All yawns had died by now. The 7 AM class didn’t feel so miserable anymore. I eventually told them the actual term—”lady-in-waiting”. I quietly laughed to myself and thought: Women everyday makes far more sense than lady-in-waiting. Perhaps it’s time we start adding a few more words of Indian English to the global lexicon!</p>
<p class="bodytext">One semester, I was given the formidable task of handling the first-hour class at 7 am. Now, teaching at that ungodly hour is not for the faint-hearted. Students always trickle in late, citing reasons ranging from traffic jams (unlikely in the morning) to mysteriously ailing grandparents. Some stagger in, victims of all-nighters—either for noble academic pursuits or, more likely, adventures that I prefer not to let my imagination explore.</p>.<p class="bodytext">As an English educator, one of my primary missions is to make vocabulary stick in a way that doesn’t feel like an academic ambush. My go-to trick? A game of Hangman. Students love to outwit a teacher any day. I posed a question to my class of 74 bright-eyed (but barely open) first-year students: “What’s a respectable term for a male worker who runs errands for you?” To make things interesting, I drew nine blanks on the board with a space after the third letter. As always, they started with the vowels. “A!” shouted one. I nodded and filled in the second blank: _A_ /_ _ _ _ _ _ . Excited by their first success, they hurled more vowels at me—’I’! I filled in the sixth letter: A / ___I___ . Then came a string of hopeful guesses—O, E, U!—but to their horror, none fit. Three parts of the Hangman were drawn.</p>.<p class="bodytext">The tension in the room rose. Then, a stroke of brilliance. Someone called out N and M! I filled in the letters: M A N. Cheers erupted—they had cracked the first word. Now onto the second. They had an A and an I to work with: F _ I D A _. A smart Alec called out F and D, and before I knew it, the class triumphantly declared: MAN FRIDAY! A mix of pride and disappointment washed over me. That was too easy.</p>.<p class="bodytext">I needed to up the ante. “Now tell me—the female equivalent.” Silence. A ripple of murmurs spread through the room. Then, after a few moments of collective thinking, a bold voice from the back declared, Women Wednesday! The entire class erupted in laughter. I was momentarily stunned—then I too joined them. The sheer ingenuity of the answer had me in splits. And just when I thought they were done, a girl, sitting up straight with all the conviction in the world, added, “Ma’am, it should be Women Everyday, because women do all the work, all day, every day!” A roar of mock applause swept through the room. All yawns had died by now. The 7 AM class didn’t feel so miserable anymore. I eventually told them the actual term—”lady-in-waiting”. I quietly laughed to myself and thought: Women everyday makes far more sense than lady-in-waiting. Perhaps it’s time we start adding a few more words of Indian English to the global lexicon!</p>
