Learning Indian scripts based on shape similarity

Originally published at http://indopersica.blogspot.com
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“An Introduction To Tamil Script – Reading & Writing” was the book that helped me learn to read Tamil. I first picked it up more than 8 years ago, and made good strides thanks to its rather novel approach, effectively being able to read Tamil fairly well within a month.

This book, authored by two of the most respected names in Indian linguistics – Debi Prasanna Pattanayak and MS Thirumalai – and originally published by the Central Institute of Indian Languages (CIIL) in 1980, uses a method we could call the ‘Shape Similarity Method’. Unlike the traditional method of teaching Indic alphabets – which involves teaching vowel letters followed by consonant letters, and then followed by the special forms of vowels when attached to consonants (vowel signs or mātrā) – this book starts off with letters that have the simplest shape, and slowly moves on to more complicated ones.

Also deviating from tradition, vowel signs / mātrā are taught before the individual vowel letters themselves. Here again, the books begins with the vowel signs that have the simplest shape and then goes on to the more complicated ones (such as signs that come before the consonant).

Renu Gupta in her paper “Initial literacy in Devanagari: What Matters to Learners” mentions that for members of the South Asian diaspora wishing to learn their heritage language, learning the script presents an additional hurdle. This is also true of Indians in India who would want (or need) to learn a script, for instance, the script used in the state or region they currently live in. On a related note, I constantly encounter a number of young people – almost all from urban areas, I should add – who are able to speak their mother tongue to a reasonable extent but are unable to read it well or at all.

In such a context, this shape-based learning methodology seems to be an extremely useful tool to help adult learners learn new scripts, for whom time is limited and similarities in shape can prove confusing if the script is taught the traditional way.

Though Gupta in her paper mentions that “[t]he effectiveness of the shape similarity method is not clear because the results have not been documented”, she goes on to say that “there may be some advantages in using this approach… [f]or literate adults”. I agree wholeheartedly with the latter statement, as I myself have been through this experience and can vouch for its effectiveness.

Unfortunately, it seems that CIIL hasn’t given Google Books permission to publish (even a part of) their wonderful publications on script learning, which is a pity, because the method used in these books is a highly practical and innovative one and has potential to help adults in the subcontinent become multi-scriptal instead of just multilingual – a huge practical benefit.

Here is a picture of the first page of the Tamil script book (I hope this isn’t a violation of copyright; it’s just one page!) –



Thankfully, CIIL has taken at least some of their script-teaching material online. Their Kannada script page, which also uses the Script Similarity Method, is available at http://www.ciil-learnkannada.net/ccck/webpages/contents/script.htm (you might have to create a user account and log in, and also download special fonts – it’s really unfortunate that a body like the CIIL has still not moved to Unicode).

The trouble with Goan Place Names

Originally published at http://indopersica.blogspot.com

Sure, we’ve all heard of the ruckus created by the vandals of the MNS and Shiv Sena about changing the names Bombay and Poona to their Marathi equivalents. Their task is not yet complete though, with names like Sion, Parel, Sewri and Versova still waiting to be changed to शीव, परळ, शिवडी and वेसावे – in English I mean.

Since these organisations love to engage themselves in the occupation of name changes under the banner of getting rid of colonial vestiges, I wonder how they'd fare in Goa. Goa is rife with village names not just being spelled the Portuguese way, i.e., according to Portuguese spelling rules, but in some cases with names suitably modified to suit the Lusitanian tongue.

Take the classic case of the capital city of Goa, written पणजी in Devanagari and pronounced /pɔɳʥĩ/ in Konkani. The Portuguese of the 17^th century AD would quite obviously not have been able to pronounce the hard, retroflex /ɳ/ (written ण in Devanagari Konkani), and would have simply approximated it with a normal /n/ (represented न in Devanagari Konkani). Neither would they have been able to pronounce ज /ʥ/ very well, and would have replaced it with the sound /ʒ/, very common in Portuguese.

What they would have been able to pronounce rather easily is the nasal twang at the end of the word, with the जी being spoken through the nose. Portuguese is full of such nasal endings (take for example the Portuguese word for 'yes' - sim, pronounced /sĩ/).

Taking into account all these phonetic conveniences, one would arrive at the new Lusitanised spelling of Pangim, pronounced /pɐnʒĩ/ the Portuguese way.

And a similar metamorphosis would have occurred with Goa’s second largest city, written मडगांव in Devanagari Konkani, and pronounced /mɔɽɡãw/ in Konkani. Again, the hard ड or /ɽ/, would have proved a tongue twister to the descendants of Vasco da Gama, and therefore was suitably modified to a /r/. The /-ãw/ ending would conveniently be spelled –ão in Portuguese. Hence, one arrived at the new spelling of Margão, now pronounced /mɐrɡãw/.

This, however, was just the tip of the iceberg. With place names such as कळंगुट, हणजुणें, म्हापशें, and पाळोळे next in line, one needs to be rather conversant in the Portuguese way of writing to figure out that these are the (now) famous locations of Candolim, Calangute, Anjuna, Mapuçá, and Palolem.

The region itself, known in Konkani as गोंय /ɡɔ̃j/, came to be rechristened Goa /ɡoə/ in Portuguese.

Goa passed on to Indian hands on the 19th of December, 1961 (since known as Goa Liberation Day). The place names with Portuguese-based spellings now came to be pronounced according to English spelling rules, resulting in a phonetic orgy –

- Pangim, now morphed into Panjim, came to be pronounced /pʰændʒɪm/, nowhere close to the Konkani /pɔɳʥĩ/.

- Candolim, originally /kan̪d̪ɔɭĩ/ in Konkani, turned into /kʰændəlɪm/, which might more or less be how you currently pronounce it!

- The southern Goan taluk of केपें /kɛpɛ̃/, which the Portuguese spelled Quepem, now came to be called /kwɛpɛm/.

Below is a (growing) list of Goan place names in Konkani, Marathi, Portuguese and English, with the English names being pronounced according to English spelling rules in most cases, resulting in the 'funny' sounding names one seems to encounter in Goa today. The progress in most cases is clear, with the Portuguese name/spelling being derived from the Konkani name, and the English name/spelling being a corruption/derivation of the Portuguese name.

Click here to view the list.

It should prove to be some sort of guide to how the place names are intended to be pronounced, irrespective of spelling.

Interestingly, Bombay too was an English corruption of the original Portuguese name, Bombaim /bɔ̃bãĩ̯/. Contrary to urban legend, this name had no connection with the original Marathi मुंबई.