Yevallvu bridgeh? (How many bridges?)

A hilarious true incident from my corporate banking days still leaves me chuckling. My friend George Gomez, a Keralite, needed help shifting his residence from Kodambakkam to Mylapore in Chennai. He requested my Tamil language skills to negotiate with the transporter, a Tamil Nadu native. George’s exact words to me were, “Let loose your golden tongue and get a good rate.”

At the transporter’s office, a tall, dusky man with an aggressive demeanor asked about household equipment and the floor where it needed to be delivered. I provided details, and then he dropped the bombshell: “Yevallvu bridgeh?” I thought he meant “how many bridges?” between Kodambakkam and Luz Church. George and I exchanged confused glances.

“Three or four bridges?” we ventured. The transporter’s disbelief was palpable. “Moonuh naalu bridgeh?” (three or four bridges?) he repeated. We nodded, still perplexed.

I politely asked, “You’re the transporter; why ask about bridges?” The transporter’s confusion deepened. His assistant intervened, and the transporter moved to a fridge in his shop and assertively said, “Yevallvu bridge?”

The Eureka moment – it was a fridge, not a bridge!

George and I burst into laughter, holding our bellies. The assistant smiled, earning a slap from his boss. The transporter turned aggressive, but we composed ourselves and accepted the rate.

Ironically, George’s household goods didn’t include a fridge; he was buying a new one.

Later, we understood that “Yevallvu bridge?” meant how big the fridge was!

We left, still chuckling. In Mumbai parlance, it was “sara paisa vasool” (all money recovered)!

Even now, when I pass a bridge, I say, “Yevallvu bridgeh?” and my wife and I share a hearty laugh.

Moral: Language barriers can lead to hilarious misunderstandings!