English Words Borrowed From Tamil: More Than Just Curry

When English speakers reach for a menu at an Indian restaurant, they are well aware that the word at the top of the page—curry—has roots in the Indian subcontinent. It is perhaps the most famous linguistic loanword from the Tamil language (kaṟi) to the English lexicon. However, the influence of Tamil, one of the world’s longest-surviving classical languages, extends far beyond the kitchen.

From the hulls of high-speed boats to the wood in luxury furniture, and even to the money in your pocket, Tamil has left an indelible mark on global vocabulary. These words did not arrive in the English language by accident; they traveled via the ancient “Silk Road of the Sea”, carried by Portuguese sailors, Dutch traders, and British colonial officers.

Join us on a linguistic journey to uncover the fascinating etymological footprints of Tamil in everyday English.

The Maritime Connection: Ancient Engineering

Long before the British East India Company established its dominance, the Chola Dynasty of South India was a formidable maritime power. Tamil merchants dominated the waters of the Indian Ocean, trading with Rome, China, and Southeast Asia. Naturally, English inherited nautical terms that describe specific innovations found in these waters.

Catamaran (Kaṭṭumaram)

If you have ever been on a holiday in the Caribbean or the Mediterranean, you may have sailed on a catamaran. In English, this refers to a boat with twin hulls in parallel. The word sounds distinctly exotic, yet its roots are purely functional.

It comes from the Tamil kaṭṭumaram, which is a compound word: kaṭṭu (to tie or bind) and maram (wood/tree). Historically, this referred to a raft made of three to seven logs tied together—a vessel specifically designed to handle the rough surf of the Coromandel Coast. When European explorers first encountered these stable, unsinkable rafts in the 17th century, they anglicized the name, eventually applying it to the dual-hull designs we see today.

The Botanical Exchange: Fruits and Flora

The spice trade drove the Age of Discovery. Europeans were desperate for pepper, ginger, and exotic fruits. As they loaded their ships with goods from South India, they needed names for these unfamiliar botanical wonders. They often adopted the local Tamil names, which then filtered through Portuguese before settling into English.

Mango (Māṅkāy)

The “king of fruits” has a name that tells the story of its export. In Tamil, the ripe fruit is māmpalam, but the unripe fruit is māṅkāy. When Portuguese traders arrived in Kerala and Tamil Nadu, they encountered the unripe variety often used in pickling and cooking. They adopted the word as manga.

As the fruit traveled west to Europe and the Americas, the hard ‘g’ sound softened slightly or shifted depending on the region, but the root remained intact. By the late 16th century, “mango” had entered the English language, bringing the taste of the tropics to the temperate world.

Teak (Tekku)

Prized for its durability and water resistance, teak wood has been used in shipbuilding and furniture for centuries. The English word teak comes directly from the Tamil tekku (also found in Malayalam as thekku). This linguistic borrowing highlights the material reality of colonialism; the British navy relied heavily on South Indian teak forests to build the ships that maintained their empire, absorbing the word for the wood in the process.

Patchouli (Paccai + Ilai)

Associated today with incense and perfumery, patchouli travelled to England in the 19th century, originally used to scent Kashmiri shawls to protect them from moths. The name is derived from the Tamil paccai (green) and ilai (leaf). It is a literal description of the aromatic herb that became a craze in Victorian England and later, the 1960s counterculture movement.

Cultural and Social Structures

Language exchange isn’t just about goods; it’s about people. Several English words describing social structures or people have origins in the complex societal stratifications of India.

Pariah (Paṟaiyar)

In modern English, a pariah is a social outcast—someone rejected by their community. The word has a profound, and somewhat tragic, history. It stems from the Tamil caste name Paṟaiyar.

Traditionally, this community was tasked with playing the paṟai, a large drum used to announce royal decrees or significant events. During the colonial era, the rigorous caste hierarchy meant this group faced severe social segregation. The British observed this marginalization and adopted the term “pariah” to describe anyone, or anything, that was shunned or despised. Today, the word has shed its specific caste connotation in general English usage, referring broadly to the concept of exclusion.

The Food We Eat

While we promised “more than just curry”, we cannot ignore the culinary contributions completely. However, the influence goes beyond the generic spicy stew.

Mulligatawny

If you look at a classic Victorian cookbook or a menu in an Anglo-Indian club, you will find Mulligatawny soup. This is perhaps one of the most direct translations in the history of loanwords.

It comes from the Tamil miḷaku (black pepper) and taṇṇīr (water). Originally, miḷaku-taṇṇīr was a modest, spicy broth consumed by locals, often for digestion. The British, desiring a soup course to start their meals (a concept foreign to South Indian dining), asked their cooks to modify the recipient. Meat and vegetables were added to the “pepper water”, creating the hearty soup known in the West today.

Money Matters: A Contentious Etymology

Finally, we look at a word that makes the world go round.

Cash (Kāsu)

The etymology of cash is a subject of debate among linguists, often cited as a case of “convergent etymology.” While many dictionaries point to the Middle French caisse or Latin capsa (meaning a box or chest for money), there is a strong argument for an Eastern influence.

East India Company traders in South India and China utilized a small coin known in Tamil as kāsu (a small coin or money). In the pidgin English of the trade ports, “cash” referred to ready money or currency, distinct from the European concept of a “money box.” It is highly likely that the modern meaning of “cash”—specifically referring to physical currency rather than the container it sits in—was reinforced or influenced by the Tamil kāsu during the height of the spice trade.

Language as a Living History

Loanwords are more than just vocabulary; they are historical artifacts. They map the movement of sailors, the taste buds of explorers, and the power dynamics of empires. The Tamil language, spoken by millions of people for over two millennia, has whispered into the ear of English, giving us words for the boats we sail, the fruit we eat, and the wood we build with.

The next time you slice a mango on your teak table or spot a catamaran on the horizon, remember that you are speaking the echoes of ancient Dravidian ancestors, kept alive through the globalization of language.