incarnation, it is to be considered a new coinage, with a new persona and a renewed destiny.'

These then are the simple conventions that Neel's descendants have adhered to, m arking a + upon every girmitiya that has found a place within the Oracle's tablets. Who exactly made these marks, and at what date, is now impossible to ascertain, so dense is the accretion of markings and jottings upon the margins of Neel's notes. Previous attempts to untangle these notations caused so much confusion that the present writer was instructed merely to bring the markings up to date, and in such a fashion that any interested party would be able to verify the findings in the most recent edition of the Oracle. This he has attempted to do to the best of his ability, although many errors have, no doubt, evaded his scrutiny.

When the mantle of wordy-major was placed upon the shoulders of the present writer, it came with a warning from his el ders: his task, they said, was not to attempt to re-create the Chrestomathy as Neel might have written it in his own lifetime; he was merely to provide a summary of a continuing exchange of words between generations. It was with these instructions in mind that he has laboured to preserve the timbre of Neel's etymological reflections: in the pages that follow, whenever quotation marks are used without attribution, Neel must be presumed to be the author of the passage in question.

abihowa/abhowa (*The Glossary):'A finer word for "climate" was never coined,' writes Neel, 'joining as it does the wind and the water, in Persian, Arabic and Bengali. Were there to be, in matters of language, such a thing as a papal indulgence the n I would surely expend mine in ensuring a place for this fine coinage.'

abrawan (*The Glossary): 'The name of this finest of muslins comes, as Sir Henry notes, from the Persian for "flowing water".'

+achar: 'There are those who would gloss this as "pickle",' writes Neel, 'although that word is better applied to the definition than the thing defined.'

agil (*Roebuck): 'Many will raise their eyebrows when they learn that this was the lascar's equivalent of the English sailor's "fore" or "for'ard", just as peechil was his equivalent for "aft". Why not, one might ask,agey and peechh ey, as would seem natural for most speakers of Hind.? Could it be that these essential nautical terms were borrowed from the languages of Cutch or Sind? Often have I asked but never been satisfactorily answered. But to this I can testify, in corroboration of the good Lieutenant's definition, that it is indisputably true that the Laskari terms are always agil and peechil, never agey-peechhey.'

alliballie muslin (*The Glossary): 'There are those, including Sir Henry, who would consider this a muslin of fine quality, but in the Raskhali wardrobe it was always relegated to one of the lower shelves.'

+almadia: An Arab riverboat of a sort that was rarely seen in India: Neel would have found it hard to account for its presence in the Oracle.

alzbel (*Roebuck): 'Thus does the ever-musical Laskari tongue render the watchman's cry of "All's well": how well I remember it…'

arkati (*The Barney-Book): 'This word, widely used by seamen to mean 'ship's pilot', is said to be derived from the erstwhile princely state of Arcot, near Madras, the Nawab of which was reputed to have in his employ all the pilots in the Bay of Bengal. Scholars will no doubt cavil at Neel's unquestioning acceptance of Barrère and Leland's derivation, but this entry is a good example of how, when forced to choose between a colourful and a reliable etymology, Neel always picked the former.

+atta/otta/otter: Such are the many English spellings for the common Indian word for 'wheat flour'. The first of these variants is the one anointed by the Oracle. But the last, which had the blessing of Barrère and Leland, was the one most favoured by Neel, and under his own roof, he would not allow the use of any other. The memory of this was passed along in the family even unto my own generation. Thus was I able recently to confound a pretentious pundit who was trying to persuade an unusually gullible audience that the phrase 'kneading the otter' was once a euphemism of the same sort as 'flaying the ferret' and 'skinning the eel'.

awari (*Roebuck): 'This, says Lt. Roe-buck, is the Laskari word for ship's wake. But as so often with the usages of the lascars, it has the oddly poetical connotation of being cast adrift upon the waves.' Legend has it that some members of the family went to the movie Awara expecting a tale of shipwreck.

+ayah: Neel was contemptuous of those who identified this word with Indian nursemaids and nurseries. In his home he insisted on using its progenitors, the French 'aide' and the Portuguese 'aia'.

bachaw/bachao: This word should by rights have meant 'help!' being a direct borrowing of the common Hind. term. But Neel insisted that in English the word was only ever used ironically, as an expression of disbelief. For example: ' Puckrowed a six-foot cockup? Oh, bachaw!'

backsee (*Roebuck): This was the Laskari substitute for the English 'aback': 'Another of the many words in the Indian shipboard lexicon, where a Portuguese term was preferred over the English.'

+ baksheesh/buckshish/buxees, etc.: 'Curious indeed that for this token of generosity Sir Henry was unable to find any English equivalent ("tip" being dismissed as slang) and could only provide French, German and Italian synonyms.' Neel's optimism about the future of this word was based on the fact of its having few competitors in the English language. He would have been surprised to find that both baksheesh and its South China synonym cumshaw had been smiled upon by the Oracle.

+balty/balti: On this commonest of Indian household objects – the bucket – Neel penned several lengthy chits. Already in his time the use of these containers had become so widespread that the memory of their foreign provenance (the word being a direct borrowing of the Portuguese 'balde') had been lost. 'This much is certain, that the balde, like so much else, was introduced into our lives by lascars. Yet the object for which they used the term was a "ship's bucket", a leather container bearing no resemblance to the metal vessels that are now spoken of by that name. But the balde could not have become ubiquitous if it were not replacing some older object that was already in common use. What then was the name of the container that people used for their daily bath before the las-cars gave them their baldes? What did they use for the cleaning of floors, for drawing water from wells, for watering their gardens? What was the object, now forgotten, that once discharged these functions?' Later, on his first trip to London, Neel went to visit a lascar boarding house in the East End. He wrote afterwards: 'Living twenty to a room, in the vilest conditions, the poor budmashes have no other expedient but to cook their food in enormous baldes. Being, like so many lascars, good-hearted, hospitable fellows they invited me to partake of their simple supper and I did not hesitate to accept. The meal consisted of nothing more than rooties served with a stew that had long been bubbling in the balde: this was a gruel concocted from chicken-bones and tomatoes, and was served in a single giant tapori. It bore no resemblance to anything I had ever eaten in Hind. Yet it was not without savour and I could not forbear to ask where they had learnt to make it. They explained that it was Portuguese shipboard fare, commonly spoken of as galinha balde, which they proceeded to translate as "balti chicken". This did much, I must admit, to raise in my estimation the cuisine of Portugal.'