How not to learn Hindi

One of the hardest things about leaving Zhongguo for Yindu was no longer being able to communicate in at least a horribly butchered version of the local language.

I'm the first to admit my Hanyu was, um, bu tai hao. But I could get by. My Hindi, on the other hand, was nonexistent. And although it's possible to communicate here in English--thank you, Queen Vicky; thank you, Rudyard--I figured it would be nice to at least try to learn a few basic phrases.

But I was amazed at how damn hard it is to find an English-Hindi dictionary. Maybe I was just looking in the wrong bookstores. Maybe I'm just a total cretin (well, that goes without saying). But I could not for the life of me find a dictionary that translated an English word into Hindi with English transliterations. And everyone I encountered was astonished at my inability to read any of the translations handily written in Hindi script.

Balls.

So I settled for the next best thing: A book that promised, a "Quick and easy way to learn Hindi."

Well.

Really, the book should have been billed a "Quick and easy way to learn Hindi, circa 1940." Not only does it feature such choice phrases as "Will you let her flirt about, then?" and "A peg of scotch whiskey," it also tells you how to say, "The allies will get success."

Mitron kee jeet hogi.

YES. All my life, this is what I have wanted to say in Hindi.

I'm still entirely bemused as to how, exactly, this book made it to the publisher IN 2006, which is the date of the latest edition on the front flap. Either it actually was published in some crazy-ass time warp, or the good people at "Quick and easy way to learn Hindi" are sadistically insane.

Possibly both.

Meanwhile, it's back to memorizing the lyrics of "Jai ho."