
Dutch man lists hilarious Indian English phrases he learned from his wife: 'It's normal only'
A post by a Dutch man sharing a hilarious list of English phrases he's picked up from his Indian wife has gone viral and left desi social media users laughing in agreement.
Sacha Arbonel, who lives with his wife Pratim Bhosale in Amsterdam, posted on X a list of "New English phrases I learned from my Indian wife." The phrases? Instantly familiar and used by anyone raised in an Indian household and wildly entertaining to those who are not.
The list comprised common Indian English phrases like "It's normal only", "I'm not mad okay", "Salt is less", "Do one thing" and "He is my real brother".
Arbonel added one last phrase, dubbing it the most iconic of all: "I can get this in India for 100 rupees."
The post has racked up thousands of likes and triggered a flood of responses from amused users, mostly Indians, who were delighted by the Dutch man learning the Indian way of speaking in English.
"Well, Indians aren't native English speakers, they think in their mother tongue and then translate it to english all at the same time. That's why there are so many grammatically incomplete sentences that only make sense in Indian English," said one of them
A second user suggested another common phrase. "Your learning is incomplete if you don't know 'nothing doing'," they said.
A third user defended the use such phrases, labelling them as practical and useful. "Wait, how is "Do one thing" not a common sentence in the English speaking world?! That 3-word sentence is so logical. You just understand that whatever follows after that sentence is the only thing you got to do," they said.
(Also read: Desis school German influencer: Woman called out for making fun of Indian English - watch)

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


Time of India
34 minutes ago
- Time of India
A cultural autopsy of the death of hobbies in India
Somewhere in the second half of the Kala Kendra's nritya-natakam on Karna's life, just after the scene where he donates his kavach and kundal to Indra, I caught myself zoning out. I was sitting in the Kamani Auditorium (Delhi), surrounded by rows of earnest culture aficionados, retirees, visibly bored schoolchildren, and those select few who were more absorbed in making reels than enjoying the performance. The stage glowed with molten amber, Karna's silhouette frozen in a moment of tragic generosity, the mridangam beating low, and the echoes of Manohar Singh's baritone voice-over still resonating. And yet, my mind drifted. A strange thought sneaked in: What on earth was I doing here? Not 'here' as in physically present (I can account for that), but 'here' as in still doing this. Still attending long, meandering theatre performances in a time of short-form everything. What am I trying to prove, or preserve? Is this hobby of mine, watching theatre, some quiet, performative nostalgia designed to feel slightly superior to the Netflix binge crowd (to which I too belong, incidentally)? Or just plain angst dressed up as a pretentious cultural flex? The doubt passed, as such thoughts do. The dancer moved again, and Karna's dilemma bled back into mine. Later, walking out into the golden haze of Mandi House, I realised that what I experienced was not just momentary self-doubt. It was a lingering suspicion that hobbies, of any kind, are quietly dying in India. And with them, something more intangible – our capacity for leisure without utility, and joy without transaction. Traditional Indian hobbies such as numismatics, philately, collecting old books and memorabilia, ham radio, amateur birdwatching, chalk art, painting, and classical music appreciation are increasingly the preserve of people stuck in a 'those were the days' time warp. The spaces they once occupied in middle-class life are now filled with the hypnotic glow of smartphones and the curated dopamine rush engendered by social media. This loss is deeper than mere rose-tinted nostalgia. Hobbies, at their best, anchor us to time. They reintroduce the value of patience and help cultivate deep attention. They also refine our aesthetic temperament, what the ancients used to call rasa-bodha. In essence, they are un-monetizable joys, for you cannot 'scale' a stamp collection or 'leverage' your knowledge of the difference between the Indian bulbul and Indian pitta. Perhaps this is one of the reasons for their fading away. For the post-liberalisation generations raised on the urgency of cracking competitive exams and continuously upgrading skill-sets, hobbies came to be seen as frivolous distractions unless they impressed the job interviewer or led to a CV boost. Parents, too, changed. Where once a child who practised the violin after school was indulged as 'creative', today he or she is nudged toward robotics classes or extra tuitions. This is the industrialisation of childhood. Time not monetised is wasted, and effort without an audience is vanity. Meanwhile, the idea of the hobby itself has been subtly co-opted by platforms. Reading is often reduced to performative lists on Goodreads. Even music, formerly a slow courtship between the listener and the raga, is now consumed through remixes of bhopali and malkauns. And to be honest, I have been guilty of this too. There was but a gentle rebellion in pursuing hobbies. They resisted the fallacy of outcomes. You did not indulge in amateur astronomy to become a better executive, nor did you read old editions of Reader's Digest to improve your CGPA. You did it because something in you stirred when you did that activity. But our modern, digital culture demands metrics: followers, shares, views, virality. Leisure, simply, has been devoured by hustle. The decline of hobbies is also intertwined with India's shrinking public commons. Parks are either decrepit or commercialised. Local libraries, once havens for readers, are in disrepair. Hobby clubs and societies – all staples of the genteel consensus which informed Indian middle-class society – are dwindling. In Delhi's Lodhi Garden or Bengaluru's Lalbagh, you will still find hobbyists gathering quietly, but their numbers pale in comparison to the influencers posing for curated photo shoots. The urban commons is now, simply, an arena for performance, a check-in location on Instagram. Hobbies allowed for the democratisation of expertise. You did not need elite credentials to cultivate knowledge in entomology, or to become a respected chronicler of the history of food. In fact, some of India's most respected niche historians and conservationists began not as professionals, but as hobbyists. For instance, the venerable Valmiki Thapar, who passed away recently, started tiger conservation as a hobby. All things considered, the picture is not entirely bleak. Reddit forums on Indian archaeology, niche podcasts on Indian theatre forms, and running clubs, are enabling young Indians to find communities beyond their physical geographies. But these are still fringe movements and not yet part of mainstream consciousness. What we need, perhaps, is a quiet cultural shift. One that re-legitimises leisure and restores dignity to doing something for its own sake. Schools must make time for unstructured exploration. Cities must nurture non-commercial public spaces. Parents must reimagine ambition. And we must not be rigid. Social media can be leveraged to spark a resurgence in hobbies by encouraging them to be archived and displayed. For instance, the act of performing a hobby can be shared and hashtagged to make it attractive to a larger populace. The hobbyist must become the content creator, but a conscientious one at that. Thus, we must work overtime to rescue the culture of hobbies from whatever it has devolved into. For if we lose it, we lose the invisible curriculum that taught us introspection and quietude. We lose spaces where class and ambition were momentarily suspended. Hobbies taught us to care. And in an India that is rapidly developing, noisy, and fast, such care is not an indulgence. It is a necessity. Author's plea: If you still practice a hobby, please do share more about it with a friend, family member, fellow hobbyist, or even a rank stranger. Not necessarily over social media, but perhaps over a cup of chai or filter coffee. This might seem unnecessary, but then does not the soul of a civilisation lie in its unnecessary acts? Facebook Twitter Linkedin Email Disclaimer Views expressed above are the author's own.


India.com
38 minutes ago
- India.com
Mohanlal Meets Sri Lankan PM Dr Harini Amarasuriya, Receives ‘Courteous Welcome' At Parliament
Mumbai: Malayalam superstar Mohanlal has expressed his heartfelt gratitude for the warm welcome he received at the Sri Lankan Parliament. He said that he is deeply grateful for the meaningful conversations with the Prime Minister of Sri Lanka Harini Amarasuriya and others leaders that made this visit 'truly unforgettable' for him. Mohanlal took to Instagram, where he shared two images of himself at the Sri Lankan Parliament, where he met Prime Minister of Sri Lanka Harini Amarasuriya along with speaker Jagath Wickramaratne, Deputy Speaker Rizvie Salih and his friend. He wrote as the caption: 'Deeply honoured by the gracious welcome at the Parliament of Sri was a true privilege to meet the Honourable Prime Minister Dr. Harini Amarasuriya, Speaker Dr. Jagath Wickramaratne, Deputy Speaker Dr. Rizvie Salih, and my dear friend Ishantha Ratnayake.' View this post on Instagram A post shared by Mohanlal (@mohanlal) He added: 'I remain deeply grateful for the warmth, generosity, and meaningful conversations that made this visit to Sri Lanka truly unforgettable. @ishantha.' Talking about the 64-year-old superstar, Mohanlal has a career spanning over four decades, during which he has acted in more than 400 films. He has been feted with Padma Shri in 2001 and Padma Bhushan for his contributions to Indian cinema. In 2009, he became the first actor in India to be awarded the honorary rank of lieutenant colonel in the Territorial Army. The actor was recently seen in 'Thudarum'. Directed by Tharun Moorthy, 'Thudarum' is a crime thriller film. It also stars Shobana, Prakash Varma, Farhaan Faasil, Maniyanpilla Raju, Binu Pappu, Irshad Ali, Aarsha Chandini Baiju, Thomas Mathew, Krishna Praba, and Aravind. He will next be seen in the family drama 'Hridayapoorvam' directed by Sathyan Anthikad from a screenplay by Sonu T. P., based on a story by Anthikad's son Akhil Sathyan. It also stars Malavika Mohanan, Sangeeth Prathap, Sangita Madhavan Nair, Siddique, Sabitha Anand, Baburaj, Nishan, Lalu Alex, Janardhanan and S. P. Charan. Hridayapoorvam is scheduled to be released theatrically August 28. Mohanlal also has epic action drama 'Vrusshabha' alongside Roshan Meka, Shanaya Kapoor, Zahrah S. Khan, Srikanth Meka, and Ragini Dwivedi.


India.com
38 minutes ago
- India.com
Not only Vinod Kambli but this cricketer also ruined his career due to alcohol, played with Sachin Tendulkar and Azharuddin, his name is...
Many Indian cricketers like Kapil Dev, Sunil Gavaskar, Irrfan Pathan, Harbhajan Singh and Shikhar Dhawan have made cameos in Bollywood films. But today we tell you about a former cricketer who debuted for the Indian team against Pakistan with Sachin Tendulkar, played more than 20 international matches, but then left cricket to become an actor. Alcohol ruined his career and then he made a strong comeback as an actor and in the world of cricket. We are talking about Salil Ankola, let us tell you about his life struggle and his journey of cricket and acting. Fast medium bowler Salil Ankola played 20 One Day Internationals and one Test for the Indian cricket team from 1989 to 1997. In 1996, he also played the Cricket World Cup. He retired from cricket at the age of 28 due to continuous poor performances. Meanwhile, Salil Ankola left cricket and tried his hand at acting. He started his acting career in 1997 with the TV series Want and Hate. In the 2000s, he worked in several TV shows including Kora Kagaj, Kahta Hai Dil, Vikaral and Gabral, Rishte. In 2006, he also appeared in the first season of Bigg Boss, but was evicted from the Bigg Boss house in the very first week. He also did several Bollywood films, including Kurukshetra, Pita, Chura Liya Hai Tumne and Rivayat, but these were flops at the box office. In the late 2000s, Salil got neither TV shows nor any Cricket oppurtunities, which led him to start drinking and ruining his career. But the player's passion was rekindled. He admitted himself to a rehabilitation center and made a comeback. Salil Ankola played the role of Surya Dev in Colors TV's famous show Karmafal Data Shani from 2016 to 2018. He then returned to cricket, from 2020 to 2021 he was the main selector of the Mumbai Cricket Association. He will be the selector of the men's cricket team from January 2023 to 2024. Salil now does Marathi commentary in the Indian Premier League