Flocci…What?

Floccinaucinihilipilification said a Delhi magistrate, while dismissing a plea. He could have said the petition was without merit, meaning basically the same thing. Let us respond in kind. He, clearly, doesn’t suffer from hippopotomonstrosesquippe-daliophobia, fear of long words. Also, he’s a sesquipedalian, a person who uses long words. But he should know that, while some – Tharoor in India and Jacob Rees-Mogg in UK, are two politicians who come to mind – may be impressed, the litigant, likely, had to reach for the dictionary, an unnecessary hassle in a judicial system defined by hassle. And, may we, humbly, say: long words do not necessarily signal linguistic talent.

But let’s be broadminded. For some lovers of the English language, sesquipe-dalianism is the thing. They find joy in using monstrously polysyllabic words in real-life situations. But, CJI after CJI has laboured the point – longwinded, complicated, confusing and bombastic verdicts and obiter dicta, borrowing from the archaic, and leaning into hoary Indian fetishes of “mastering” the Queen’s language, belong in The Great Dustbin Of Legal History. It is not magisterial, but painful, to suffer a ‘circumlocutory’ order that can trigger lockjaw.

It is challenge enough for language to survive insta-vocabulary, where idioms and phrases are acronymised into meaningless, vowel-free existence, yet pass off as legitimate speech. To add to that burden, over-long words, which only spellers need be familiar with, are doing the language a disservice. If anything, it gives us pause. For, surely, the essence of communication is to ensure the listener interprets the speaker, exactly how the speaker intends. Anything less is a failure of communication. When linguistic talent sounds more like mushy linguini, it’s best to say, Duh!