Master
stroke by Sinhala commentators
By Carlton Samarajiwa
There
was a time when it was thought that it would never be possible to
give cricket commentaries in Sinhala. This is why the achievements
reached over the years by our cricket commentators led by Premasara
Epasinghe, in his amiable voice and authoritative tone, to commentate
in Sinhala on the English game of cricket can be considered admirable.
Listen to the
radio in these days of Sri Lanka vs England test cricket and you
will hear in the Sinhala "visthara prachaara" a wide range
of appropriate, sensible and cleverly crafted Sinhala equivalents
of the lingo of cricket: kadulu (wickets), pandu vaaraya (over),
lakunu (runs), ilakkaya (target), daevee giya (bowled), paada aavaranaya
(lbw), kadulu thrithvayak (hat trick), pithi karuva (batsman), pandu
yavanna (bowler), udapanduvak raekagannava (catch), nilakunu panduvaaraya
(maiden over), thana thilla (wicket), pandu rakinava (fielding),
maeda inna (middle stump), paa inna (leg stump), sabandathaavayak
(partnership) and "prabala illeemak" (a confident "Howzzat?").
These Sinhala
terms, among many others, coined to convey the features and elements
of an alien game reflect a linguistic sensibility that has stretched
the Sinhala language into the service of "the game of flannelled
fools" that somehow holds Sri Lankans, irrespective of class
or education, in thrall.
The listener
is also captivated by the manner in which the Sinhala commentators,
through their intonation and articulation, capture the tempo and
the excitement of the game, as for example, when catches or wickets
are taken or the chagrin over missed catches and other lapses on
the field or at the wicket.
The unique
jargon of cricket has also necessitated the Sinhalization of English
terms. We hear such words as "wickettuva" (for wicket)
and "overaya" for "over", where a suffix is
added to the English word. This kind of "suffixation"
comes in handy as in paensalaya, typewriteraya and computeraya,
which sound more pleasing to the ear than the suffix "eka"
in, for example, "bus eka", "car eka", "wicket
eka" and "run rate eka", which sound banal.
It is also
interesting to note that several concepts and expressions that are
part of cricket have perforce to fall back on the English idiom
because they seem to defy translation into Sinhala. The case of
motor mechanics is a similar instance of the failure of Sinhala
to absorb much of its English lexicon.
The Swabasha
Department glossaries gave Sinhala equivalents for English scientific
and technical terms but not all of them came to stay. English terms
such as spark plug, brakes, cylinder, clutch and carburettor are
irreplaceable. Who would ever use the Sinhala "sarvaloka puuttuwa"
for "universal joint"? Over this term "sarvaloka
puuttuwa", incidentally, there has been some controversy. The
term given in the Swabasha Department glossary is "dasatha
muuttuwa".
It was the Silumina
under the editorship of the late Meemana Prematilake that first
used the term "sarvaloka puuttuwa" over 35 years ago.
It was probably meant as a joke, but the joke was repeated over
and over again to ridicule the efforts of the Swabasha Department
to come to terms with the dethronement of English as the official
language.
As with the
motor vehicles that have come into our country with a vengeance,
so with the game of cricket many English words and terms seem to
be irreplaceable and indispensable. And, our Sinhala cricket commentators
have therefore to rely on the English "bails", "off
stump", "leg break". "seamer" and "mid
wicket" and the various field positions such as "third
man", "deep fine leg", "deep extra cover"
"long on", "long off", "short fine leg",
"silly point", "gully", "backward square
leg", "square leg", "mid wicket", "cover
point", and also "night watchman" and "pinch
hitter".
Smart "bilingualisms"
have also come into vogue perhaps because full Sinhala equivalents
are hard to coin. Thus we have parts of the field described as "mid
wicket kalaapaya" and "third man kalaapaya", and
shots and strokes as "pull paharak", "drive paharak",
"off drive paharak", "sweep pahararak" and a
"cover drive paharak". We also hear of "glance kireemak"
and "slip keedakaya".
Though a defensive
shot is called monolingually "aarakshaka paharak", a flawed
delivery is referred to bilingually as a "wide panduvak"
while "no ball" finds its agreeable Sinhala equivalent
in "nipanduvak". "Leg break panduvak", "full
toss panduvak" and "inswinger panduvak" are among
other bilingual expressions we are accustomed to hear in Sinhala
commentaries.
Boundaries
are "hatharey paharaval" while "hayey paharak"
is a "sixer", the "Singlish term" we use to
describe the ball that "takes an aerial route", as Ranjit
Fernando would say, to sail over the boundary.
"Hela"
purists, of course, will object to this hybridization. However,
what is the Sinhala name for "cricket"? It's "cricket
kreedava", although for some games Sinhala names have been
created such as "dael pandu", "paa pandu" and
"paesi pandu".The Sinhala expressions that our clever
commentators have coined and use copiously in their "visthara
prachaara" of time-consuming cricket matches played over five
long days show how our language has been and can be pressed into
service to describe an alien game that has now become a part of
national life.
"Kaasiye
vaasiya" is a smooth (like a "daarsaneeya paharak")
and alliterative Sinhala version of "the toss of a coin",
and "gilihee giyaa" and "daeveeyamak" are elegant
cries of joy or despair - depending on which team you are a fan
of - at a missed "udapanduva" or the fall of a "kadulla".
This seems
to be a fascinating aspect of our Sinhala, to which Robert Knox
paid a high compliment when he wrote in his An Historical Relation
of Ceylon, "Their language is Copious, Smooth, Elegant and
Courtly, according as the People that speak it are." Premasara
Epasinghe and other Sinhala commentators in his team are among such
"People".
|