Collective nouns are hardly used. A loss to us, not to them. For they are witty, wise and help us understand life, which is as much about clusters as it is about singletons. And by not knowing them or using them, we are diminishing our experience of life.
They are not, like grammar, a fixity. They are a genre to which additions can and should be made to reflect developments and changes in what is happening around us, in the way we perceive and understand life. These can be for the good, the bad and the silly. Changes can, incidentally, also make us laugh at ourselves. Some collective nouns have suggested themselves to me based on happenings principally in India as also in the world, our world.
India’s judiciary has been much in the news. For some great orders passed by single and multiple-member Benches, and some that have disappointed those who had
cherished certain expectations of them. So, let us consider the following ten:
An armada of Their Lordships.
A scream of Appeals.
A murmur of Revisions.
A gavel of Orders.
A cunning of Lawyers.
A spear of Prosecutors.
A shield of Defendants.
A torrent of Briefs.
A scandal of Approvers.
A riddle of Registrars.
The executive has not lagged behind in dominating our thoughts. And so one can come up with these ten:
A flash of Leaders.
An ostentation of VIPs.
A pride of Ministers.
A sash of Minions.
A dangle of Toadies.
A file of Secretaries.
A frown of Governors.
A yell of Chief Ministers.
A roar of Rallies.
A vanish of Promises.
The legislature, the most fascinating of the three pillars of the State, suggests these ten:
An honour of Speakers.
A height of MPs.
A might of MLAs.
A sink of Debates.
A theatre of Acts.
A privilege of Motions.
A motion of Privileges.
A flood of Questions.
A drought of Answers.
A surgery of Amendments.
What, it may be asked, about political parties? Of course, they need to be collectivised too. Perhaps as follows:
A command of Highs.
A season of Lows.
A slogan of Supporters.
A buzz of Fans.
A sewer of Moles.
A morgue of Values.
A nursery of Plotters.
A scowl of Dismissals.
A flattery of Followers.
And what of the Fourth Estate?
A crest of Proprietors.
A column of Editors.
A blade of Edits.
A grouse of Deputy Editors.
A hope of Interns.
A presence of Sub-editors.
An absence of Correspondents.
A sleeplessness of Reporters.
A currency of Advertisers.
A somnolence of Columnists.
Publishing Houses have these:
A reputation of Publishers.
A volume of Titles.
A cacophony of Authors.
A dump of Manuscripts.
A pen of Editors.
A mire of Typo-s.
A font of Letters.
A release of Launches.
A jitter of Reviews.
A tiara of Royalties.
We cannot and will not leave out the Great Corporates. Their ten collective nouns can be:
A cushion of Chairmen.
A busyness of CEOs.
A boredom of Boards.
A mint of Profits.
A dream of Dividends.
A gang of Cronies.
A pang of Payouts.
An objection of Auditors.
A subjection of Shareholders.
A suit of Cases.
Cricket suffuses us. I cannot fathom why, but watching a bunch of men running after a red ball is an obsession with us.
A craze of Spectators.
A glare of Sunglasses.
A larynx of Yells.
A hush of Expectations.
A streak of Red.
A flash of Whites.
A scatter of Wickets.
An eruption of Howls.
A thumb of Power.
A trudge of Pain.
Messi in Calcutta had to create these:
A worship of Heroes.
A whirr of Fans.
A shame of Egos.
An importance of Officials.
A swagger of Ministers.
A stadium of Rages.
A denial of Responsibilities.
A shift of Blames.
A city of Shocks.
A grace of Apologies.
The court’s orders on stray dogs produced the following:
A snarl of Strays.
A jaw of Spikes.
A laugh of Disdain.
A creep of Aches.
A chortle of Fluids.
A nightmare of Hells.
An issue of Decrees.
A grapple of Steps.
A yelp of Horror.
A horn of Dilemmas.
The controversial SIR exercise about electoral rolls has occasioned these:
An arising of Doubts.
An arousing of Fears.
A finding of Fakes.
A debris of Rights.
A pointing of Errors.
A claim of Perfections.
A charge of Biases.
A tightness of Lips.
A tragedy of Migrations.
A migration of Destinies.
The horror of April 22 last year in Pahalgam in which all those killed were Hindu save one, a Muslim pony driver who is said to have tried his best to stop the slaughter.
A dew of Welcomes.
A plume of Thanks.
A stealth of Silence.
A nakedness of Ghouls.
A claw of Hate.
A fang of Spite.
A storm of Bullets.
A bed of Doves.
A pony’s tale of Peace.
A persistence of Hope.
The Zohran in the first name of the New York mayor, Mamdani, meaning ‘brightness’, the first two of these suggested themselves, with his comments on Indian matters suggesting some others:
A zohran of Beams.
A flare of Zohrans.
A beard of Determinations.
A clench of Affirmations.
A hug of Assurances.
A twinkle of Understandings.
A crowd of Confidences.
An absence of Prudence.
A rush of Statements.
A poke of Noses.
The US’s action in Venezuela:
A whopper of Abductions.
An oh-no! of Shocks.
A god-almighty of Disbelief.
A what-the-hell of Happenings.
A must-be-kidding of News.
A slick of Oil-dollars.
A Columbus of Dons.
The travails of Palestine:
A desert of Guiles.
A Hamas of Horrors.
A Benjamin of Threats.
A who’s-nya-hu of Death.
A lava of Miseries.
An innocence of Infants.
A wail of Mothers.
A sacrifice of Soldiers.
A shambles of Sovereignty.
I am sure readers will want to and actually create better collective nouns, if only to help tide over the bitters of Life and cherish the sweets of Imagination.
