Words We Borrowed from Hindi During the British Raj

The British Empire was many things—brutal, transformative, exploitative, modernizing—but it was also a vast engine of linguistic exchange. During nearly two centuries of British presence in India, the English language absorbed hundreds of Hindi, Urdu, and other South Asian words, many of which have become so thoroughly naturalized that most English speakers have no idea of their origins. When you put on your pajamas, grab a shampoo, sit on the veranda, and call your friend a thug, you’re speaking Hindi without knowing it.

The Context of Exchange

The British East India Company established its first trading post in India in 1612. Over the following centuries, British involvement deepened from trade to conquest to colonial rule. By the time the British Raj was formally established in 1858, the linguistic exchange was already well advanced.

British administrators, soldiers, merchants, and their families lived in India for years or decades. They needed words for things that didn’t exist in Britain—local foods, plants, animals, social customs, administrative structures. Rather than invent new English words, they simply borrowed from the languages around them, primarily Hindi and Urdu (which share much vocabulary), but also Bengali, Tamil, Persian, Arabic, and others.

These borrowings traveled back to Britain through letters, literature, official reports, and returning colonials. Some remained specialized colonial vocabulary. Others entered mainstream English and spread throughout the English-speaking world.

Domestic and Fashion Terms

Pajamas – From Hindi “pāy-jāma” (literally “leg garment”), these loose trousers were adopted by the British for sleeping and lounging. Now standard nightwear across the English-speaking world.

Shampoo – From Hindi “chāmpo” (press or massage), originally referring to a head massage. The British extended it to the cleansing process and eventually to the product itself.

Bandana – From Hindi “bāndhna” (to tie), originally describing tie-dyed fabric. Now any large colored handkerchief.

Dungarees – From Hindi “ḍuṅgrī,” a type of coarse calico cloth, eventually applied to the trousers made from it.

Khaki – From Urdu “khākī” meaning “dusty” or “earth-colored.” British soldiers adopted khaki uniforms in India for camouflage, and the color term spread worldwide.

Cashmere – Named for the Kashmir region, this fine wool became synonymous with luxury knitwear.

Food and Drink

Curry – From Tamil “kari” (sauce), this term became the British catchall for Indian spiced dishes. In India, specific dishes have specific names; “curry” is largely a British simplification.

Chutney – From Hindi “chaṭnī,” these condiments made from fruit, vinegar, and spices became a British pantry staple.

Punch – Possibly from Hindi “pānch” (five), referring to the five ingredients (alcohol, sugar, lemon, water, tea or spices). The drink was popularized by East India Company sailors.

Toddy – From Hindi “tāṛī,” originally meaning palm sap used for alcoholic drinks. Now any hot drink of spirits, water, and sugar.

Mango – Via Portuguese from Tamil/Malayalam “māṅgā.” The fruit was unknown in Europe until Asian trade introduced it.

Kedgeree – From Hindi “khichrī,” a dish of rice and lentils that the British adapted with smoked fish and eggs for breakfast.

Social and Human Terms

Thug – From Hindi “ṭhag” (deceiver, thief), originally referring specifically to members of the Thuggee, bands of robbers and murderers in India. The British suppressed the Thuggee in the 19th century, but the word entered general English for any violent criminal.

Guru – From Sanskrit/Hindi “guru” (teacher), originally a spiritual teacher. Now applied to any expert or influential figure.

Pundit – From Hindi “paṇḍit” (learned man, scholar). Originally referring to Hindu scholars, now any expert commentator.

Avatar – From Sanskrit “avatāra” (descent), referring to the incarnation of a deity. Now used for digital representations and manifestations generally.

Pariah – From Tamil “paṛaiyan,” originally referring to members of a low caste who played drums at festivals. Now meaning any outcast.

Mogul – From “Mughal,” the Muslim dynasty that ruled much of India. Now any powerful person, especially in business or entertainment.

Architecture and Household

Bungalow – From Hindi “banglā” (Bengali style), describing single-story houses with verandas adapted from Bengal. The style spread throughout the British Empire.

Veranda – Possibly from Hindi “varaṇḍā,” though Portuguese and Spanish also have similar words. The covered porch became essential in tropical architecture.

Cot – From Hindi “khāṭ” (bedstead), a light portable bed used by the British in India and brought home.

Dinghy – From Hindi/Bengali “ḍiṅgī,” a small boat. The word traveled with the navy throughout the English-speaking world.

Animals and Nature

Jungle – From Hindi “jaṅgal” (rough, desert, forest). Originally meant uncultivated land; the British narrowed it to dense tropical forest.

Cheetah – From Hindi “cītā” (spotted), distinguishing it from other big cats.

Mongoose – From Marathi “maṅgūs,” these snake-killing mammals fascinated the British.

Chintz – From Hindi “chīṇṭ” (variegated), originally referring to painted or stained calico. Now any printed cotton fabric with floral patterns.

Military and Administrative Terms

Loot – From Hindi “lūṭ” (plunder), adopted enthusiastically by British soldiers. Now standard English for stolen goods or the act of stealing.

Cushy – Possibly from Hindi “khush” (pleasant), British soldiers’ slang for comfortable or easy duty.

Doolally – From Deolali, a British army transit camp near Mumbai where soldiers awaiting transport home supposedly went mad from boredom. “To go doolally” means to go crazy.

Wallah – From Hindi suffix “-vālā” (person connected with), as in “punkah-wallah” (fan operator). Now used playfully in British English for any person associated with something.

Pukka – From Hindi “pakkā” (ripe, cooked, solid). In colonial usage, meant genuine or first-class. Still used in British English for “proper” or “excellent.”

Words That Reveal Colonial Attitudes

Many borrowed words reveal the colonial relationship and British attitudes toward India.

Caste – From Portuguese “casta” (lineage, race), itself influenced by Indian concepts. The British codified and rigidified the caste system in ways that shaped modern India.

Nabob – From Urdu “nawwāb” (deputy, governor). Originally meant an Indian governor, then a European who made a fortune in India, now any wealthy, influential person.

Juggernaut – From Odia “Jagannātha” (Lord of the Universe), a form of Krishna. The British were struck by massive temple carts during festivals and imagined devotees throwing themselves beneath the wheels. Now any massive, unstoppable force.

These words carry colonial misconceptions and stereotypes even as they enter everyday speech.

The Reverse Flow

The exchange wasn’t one-directional. English contributed enormously to Hindi and other Indian languages—words for technology, government, sports, and countless other domains. Modern Hindi is filled with English words, from “telephone” to “committee” to “station.”

This mutual influence continues today. With millions of English-Hindi bilinguals and extensive contact between Indian and global English, new borrowings flow in both directions. Words like “chai” (from Hindi “chāy,” meaning tea—so “chai tea” is redundant) and “naan” (bread) have entered mainstream English relatively recently.

Pronunciation and Adaptation

Borrowed words often changed pronunciation as they entered English. The retroflex consonants of Hindi (made with the tongue curled back) became simple English sounds. Stress patterns shifted. Vowels changed to fit English phonology.

“Pukka” in Hindi has a retroflex “k” and different vowel qualities than the British “PUCK-ah.” “Shampoo” straightened out the Hindi sounds considerably. These adaptations are normal in borrowing—languages take what they need and reshape it to fit their own sound systems.

Why These Words Stuck

Not every word the British encountered in India made it into mainstream English. What determined which survived?

Utility mattered—words for new things (bungalow, pajamas) filled gaps. Words with no close English equivalent (thug, jungle) thrived. Phonetic compatibility helped—words that sounded English-ish survived better than those with difficult sounds.

Cultural salience also played a role. India fascinated Victorian Britain—its exoticism, its wealth, its mystery. Words carrying this romance survived even when not strictly necessary. “Guru” could be replaced by “teacher,” but it carries connotations that “teacher” doesn’t.

Conclusion

The British Raj ended in 1947, but its linguistic legacy endures in every conversation. Hindi words are so embedded in English that separating them would be impossible. When you describe someone’s cushy job, call a friend a thug, wear khaki dungarees, or relax on the veranda of a bungalow, you’re speaking the language of empire—words carried home by soldiers, traders, administrators, and families who spent their lives navigating between cultures.

This vocabulary is neither pure celebration nor condemnation of the colonial past. It simply is—evidence of human contact, cultural exchange, and the endless flexibility of language. English absorbed Hindi words because speakers needed them, and those words remain because they’re useful. They’re a permanent reminder that no language develops in isolation and that the British Empire, for all its injustices, created connections whose linguistic traces will outlast any political assessment.