‘The only official statistics’ about ‘the English-speaking habits of Indians,’ John discovers in the Indian Retirement Earnings and Savings Survey (2004-05). “This survey of earners only showed that 35 per cent of them claimed to know how to read English and 16.5 per cent knew how to speak English.” As a result, an entire education industry, worth roughly $100 million, has sprung up around the Indian need to know English, he notes.

“Dictionaries and glossaries are doorways to instant linguistic expertise,” the author wryly observes, in a chapter on ‘glossaries and how-to’s.’ Read on: “Each new word appropriated into one’s repertoire and then thrown at an unsuspecting listener during a casual conversation — or better still at a presentation — is a passport to instant stardom. New words can often serve as showpieces of calibre and advancement.”

John narrates many examples of how English gets deployed as an instrument of parody in Indian cinema. “Many songs with English lines have gone on to become pan Indian hits, like ‘Just chill,’ chanted over and over again and ‘Tell me something, meri jaan.’ The soul has gone out of lyrics and in its place come Indianised versions of hip-hop and rap and all that, he rues.

“When the hero realises that using the word ‘mohabbat’ as an offering of love may not work, he always switched to English and told her, ‘Julieeee, I love you.’ The English entreaties seemed to have a better effect both on the heroine and the audience.” IMEL, jibes John, twisting the abbreviation of Indian made foreign liquor (IMFL) to Indian Made English Language, especially in ‘party’ numbers!

Suggested read to polish one’s language, with a healthy dose of self-deprecation.