Do you know what Tenjewberrymuds mean ! To get the full effect, this should be
read aloud. You will understand what 'tenjewberrymuds' means by the end of the
conversation. The following is a telephone conversation between a hotel guest
and room-service, at a hotel in Asia , which was recorded and published in the
Far East Economic Review:Room Service (RS): 'Morrin. - Roon sirbees.Guest (G):
'Sorry, I thought I dialed room-service.RS: Rye ..Roon sirbees..morrin! Jewish
to oddor sumteen??G: 'Uh..yes.I'd like some bacon and eggs.'RS: 'Ow July
den?'G: 'What??'RS: 'Ow July den?...pryed, boyud, poochd?'G: 'Oh, the eggs! How
do I like them? Sorry, scrambled please.RS: 'Ow July dee baykem? Crease?'G:
'Crisp will be fine.'RS: 'Hokay. An Sahn toes?'G: 'What?'RS:'An toes. July
Sahn toes?'G: 'I don't think so.'RS: 'No? Judo wan sahn toes??'G: 'I feel
really bad about this, but I don't know what 'judo wan sahn toes' means.'RS:
'Toes! toes!...Why jew don juan toes? Ow bow Anglish moppin we bodder?'G:
'English muffin!! I've got it! You were saying 'Toast.' Fine. Yes, an English
muffin will be fine.'RS: 'We bodder?'G: 'No...just put the bodder on the
side.'RS: 'Wad! ?'G: 'I mean butter...just put it on the side.'RS: 'Copy?'G:
'Excuse me?'RS: 'Copy...tea. ..meel?'G: 'Yes. Coffee, please, and that's
all.'RS: 'One Minnie. Scramah egg, crease baykem, Anglish moppin w bodder on
sigh and copy....rye? ?'G: 'Whatever you say.'RS: 'Tenjewberrymuds. 'G: 'You're
very welcome.' ======Now that you have read and hopefully enjoyed this, please
read the following Middle by (Maj Gen ) Pushpendra Singh, a friend in The
Tribune of 7 Jul:-============ ========= ========= ========
Sweet kiss – Chinese styleby Pushpendra Singh
WE are going to China! The excitement is palpable even for blasé globe-trotters
like us. I can hardly wait to ride the 400-kmph magnetically levitated train;
climb the Great Wall; above all, to experience an exotic people, their culture
and enigmatic nation.
Kuala Lumpur, from where we are to embark for Shanghai onto Beijing, has a
sizeable Chinese population and I learn a few basic Chinese phrases. ‘Ni hao –
Hi! Wo hao – I’m well. Xie-xie – thanks’.
The first thing which strikes us when we land at Shanghai, ‘My God! How crowded
it is! (even by Indian standards)’. The second is the manner in which many
Chinese, particularly women and children, react to my turban and rolled-up,
grey beard with flabbergasted looks, making absolutely no effort to disguise
their open astonishment — as Europeans, Americans, even us Indians would. In
many cases, it’s downright rude and even embarrassing. However, a most
interesting experience awaits me in Beijing.
Any Indian tourist worthy of his salt loves shopping and my wife is the
undisputed Maharani! So, a time-window is carved from our busy schedule of
sight-seeing, culture et al. Our interpreter- guide escorts us to Silk Alley
and discreetly promises to return after 90 minutes.
The Palika-Bazaar- style market is a five-floor, airconditioned mall with
you-name-it; we-got-it shops, crammed with art, artefacts, leather goods,
whatever. These are owned and ‘manned’ almost exclusively by 20-something young
women. The saving grace is they all know rudimentary English. Nevertheless, my
grey beard excites a lot of sibilant exclamations.
The Maharani is shopping for handbags and one entire floor is devoted to these
as also to gents’ purses, belts and luggage items. There’s intense rivalry to
attract customers and my wife’s arms are repeatedly grabbed by rival
salesgirls. She admonishes them, ‘Don’t touch me! I will see all your wares.’
As I follow her, they try to get my attention, ‘I give you belt? You want
purse?’ I keep shaking my head, ‘No, xie-xie!’ It’s apparently the most useful
Chinese phrase I learnt.
Then, taking sharp intakes of breath, a young woman parks herself directly in
front of me; lips parted sexily, her face a picture of pure incredulity.. She
rubs her cheeks with both hands and asks, ‘I give you sweet kiss? I give you
sweet kiss?’ A conflict rages between my mind and heart (including male ego).
Images of kisses flash through my mind. Would it be a peck on the cheek or a
lip-smooch? Have Chinese girls heard of a French kiss? Then, I hear myself say,
‘Xie-xie,’ while vigorously shaking the head in a firm no. The mind has taken
over and I side-step her and move on quickly.
However, as we turn to the next row of shops, there she is again. ‘I give you
sweet kiss?’ Only, now she’s no longer rubbing her cheeks, but gesturing at her
wares – suitcases! The penny drops, crushing the male ego. O! God, she’s
saying, ‘I give you su-eet ciss?’
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