November 28, 2022

English is a funny language. With just 26 alphabets/letters, the 21 consonants have to almost entirely depend on the five vowels to form a proper word, though a tiny set of words can still be formed without using a vowel. On the other hand, Kannada, described as the ‘queen of all languages,’ spoken much before English evolved is comparatively rich with modern Kannada consisting of 51 letters made up of 16 vowels and 35 consonants. While the former is made up of words with silent letters that is not pronounced, the latter hasn’t any as every word is pronounced which makes it even richer.

After more than two years hiatus whereby I could not fly anywhere due to the pandemic that engulfed the world, complicated by strict rules in the over-regulated country I reside, August 2022 saw me in India travelling via the United Arab Emirates. During this trip, I discovered many translation errors on street name boards and elsewhere between the world’s most used language English and one of the world’s oldest languages Kannada which I would like to share.

‘Bengaluru’ and ‘Tumakuru’ hit for a six:

Kempe Gowda, a feudatory ruler under the erstwhile Vijayanagara Empire, would be a bit ashamed if he was alive today to see the city he founded has had different versions of the city’s name on the same name board indicating places. The huge place name board on the way from his namesake international airport towards the city centre has two different translations of the official name of how the IT capital of India is spelt. While the first square has got the name ‘Bengaluru’ right, the last square which is a repetition of the first has gone for a toss, the ‘e’ being replaced by an ‘a’ for some strange reason and thus turning it into ‘Bangaluru,’ the Kannada word however remaining unchanged.

Similarly, the official name of Tumkur, approx. 70 kms northwest of Bengaluru is ‘Tumakuru.’ From the same name board under discussion on the third square from left, the previous name the city was known has been painted in white in English letters with Kannada word being spot on. Going with the Kannada version on the board, the translation should not have gotten wrong by the authorities with the name reflecting as it was known before November 1, 2014. Now, if the same norm is followed, then the name 'Bengaluru’ will become Bangalore which is incorrect.

All this confusion with regards to the place names on a single name board. One of the ‘full stops’ in the Kannada abbreviation on the second square has also gone astray.

‘Kasturba and Kasturaba’ Kannada translation mismatch:

The first photo is of ‘Kasturba Hospital’ in Manipal, an educational hub which is over an hour’s drive from Mangaluru. I had to pay a visit to the hospital to see a relative of mine who was treated there. My circle of friends who have pursued their education in various Institutions under Manipal Academy of Higher Education (MAHE) say that there are not many with the Kannada translation of ‘Kasturba’ around. The full form of the Medical College’s name has been overwhelmingly in English without a Kannada translation on the Institution’s buildings. Moreover, the abbreviation KMC (Kasturba Medical College) is more often in use.

Coming straight to the point, the translation to Kannada on the hospital board looks faultless as compared to the similar name given to a road in downtown Bengaluru. ‘Kasturba Road’ lies between MG Road to the north and JC Road to the south. A 600-year-old Ganesha temple, commonly known as ‘Vehicle Ganesha’ is by far the proud occupant of this road. During my upbringing in Bengaluru, this road was known as ‘Sydney Road.’

I am not going to write about the origin of the word ‘Kasturba’ in these instances. I am mulling about the English to Kannada translation. While the hospital translation from English to Kannada is perfect, it appears the translation of the road has gone a bit awry. I for one believe the painter got it a bit incorrect here with the Kannada alphabet ‘Ra’ whereby instead of the full alphabet with a complete pronunciation, it should have curved ‘inside up’ for a semi-pronunciation and that would have been enough.

The translations in Bunder, Mangaluru:

If you want to get into the complexities of Kannada - English - Kannada translations and have a field day, our own Bunder is the place you need to pay a visit. Walking through the dusty streets, I came across so many variations of translations that were so musical that at one point I almost forgot my own English and Kannada, a little that I know.

I am not looking at any other mis-spellings or translations on this board other than the main subject. Concentrating at the proper noun AMBAR translated into Kannada goes by the pronunciation of ‘Am-baar,’ that may not have been what was intended.

Departure Vs Departing:

Inside the Bengaluru International Airport, once you have checked in and handed your boarding pass, walking right across you find this gate. Of course, you are not supposed to walk straight and enter here, instead need to take the escalator or the elevator on your left to the first floor and proceed for your security clearance and other procedures before you board your international flight. I am pretty early before travel to offset any eleventh-hour niggles. In this instance, it was a perfect world. Getting dropped from the suburb of Jayamahal Extension, surprisingly did not encounter any traffic bottlenecks on the road on the way to the Airport. It was a smooth check-in with the luggage weight within the permissible limits. With so much time in hand, it was now time to relax and that is when I took one of the seats opposite this gate to make a few calls and send some messages.

Oops! What I was staring at: ‘Departure Passengers,’ the term used to describe things rather than any living creatures. That didn’t sound right. The Kannada sentence was faultless. When it was translated into English, it had somehow taken a beating. Some English Vidwan thought it should be ‘Departure’ instead of the correct term ‘Departing.’ Either the sentence should have read as ‘DEPARTING passengers are not allowed through this gate’ or ‘Passengers are not allowed through this DEPARTURE gate.’

Vittal Mallya Road:

This road, known as ‘Grant Road’ during yesteryears holds a lot of memories. St. Joseph’s Indian High School where I did my middle-schooling is located on this road with the then address as ‘23 Grant Road,’ sounding familiar even to this day. On the location where the current name boards stand, where there was only a footpath those days, I might have walked a hundred times with my friends on the way to Cubbon Park on the one side and towards the Kanteerava Stadium on the other.

This road houses the UB City - the luxury business district in Bengaluru, with a total built up area of 16 lakh sq ft completed by the UB Tower, Kingfisher Plaza, Concorde, Canberra and Comet Blocks. The posh road is named after Vittal Mallya, a notable Mangalurean, a proud son of Bantwal, the founder and former Chairman of India-based United Breweries Group who passed away at the young age of 59 in October 1983. The road is also maintained by the Conglomerate.

The remarkable thing is the name in English is identical on both the boards and that’s how the Entrepreneur’s name is spelt. What mesmerises me is when the identical names in English is translated into Kannada, it goes haywire. How do the two street boards placed merely a metre apart get two different Kannada translations, I fail to understand!

I will leave it to you to determine whether the translation on the yellow board is accurate or the one on the blue is correct or you respectfully disagree with both the translations.