Every sport has its own language that allows fans to visualise what transpired during a particular moment. Some words are technical, some are poetic, some are born from geometry, and some are born from genius. Over time, these words become part of sporting folklore. Sometimes those words simply describe a stroke. Occasionally, they deserve another look.
In pickleball, tennis, badminton, and table tennis, the language sounds familiar. Forehand, backhand, serve, smash, and drop shot all describe action with clean simplicity. When the descriptive term is heard by an audience not watching the sport on television, there is still a fairly clear idea of what stroke was played.
Cricket has always carried a richer vocabulary, and we are not even talking about field placements, which is an entirely different topic. A cover drive by Sunil Gavaskar is not just a stroke; it is a visual experience etched in memory. A straight drive by Sachin Tendulkar has purity. A square cut by Gundappa Viswanath is pure elegance. A flick by Mohammad Azharuddin carries a touch of class. A hook shot by Mohinder Amarnath reflects courage. Even bowling has its own library of invention, from the googly and yorker to the Chinaman, carrom ball, and slower ball. Each delivery has a name, a purpose, and a story. The vocabulary continues to grow as bowlers search for new innovations in their craft.
Then came the faster formats. T20 and T10 cricket changed not only the pace of the game, but also its language. The helicopter shot, made famous by Mahendra Singh Dhoni, became almost synonymous with his name. Tillakaratne Dilshan’s scoop became the Dilscoop. The ramp shot, the uppercut, the reverse sweep, and other modern strokes showed that cricket had entered a more inventive age of vocabulary. The textbook still mattered, but improvisation had found its own vocabulary. It was as though batting had rewritten its own textbook.
Basketball has done the same. The no-look pass, linked in memory with Magic Johnson and the Los Angeles Lakers’ Showtime era, was not merely a pass. It was theatre. The alley-oop, crossover, fadeaway, finger roll, and skyhook all carry meaning beyond mechanics. Each immediately paints a picture in the listener’s mind.
That brings us to carrom, a sport that also speaks in its own compact language. A player starts with the opening break. There is the connection shot, where one coin is used almost like a striker for another coin to find the pocket. A double-touch stroke is usually played near the pockets, as the coin gets home after touching the striker twice. A rebound stroke in carrom is self-explanatory. These strokes not only describe the mechanics of the shot but often define the player’s intent while attempting to pocket the coin.
Carrom also has colourful names that carry cultural meaning. One such stroke is called the “Pehelwan”, words that suggest brute strength and bring to mind a powerfully built wrestler or damaging aggression. In carrom, the “Pehelwan” shot fits that image perfectly. It is one of the most spectacular strokes in the game because a single shot can completely rearrange the board. In one moment, carefully constructed positions disappear, momentum shifts, and the initiative changes hands.
Then there is another commonly used term, Langda. It refers to a type of rebound shot, usually played with the striker attacking two frames near the pocket to create an angle and guide the coin into the pocket. Technically, it is a clever stroke. It uses geometry, touch, and judgement.
The concern lies in the name.
In Hindi, “Langda” refers to a person with a physical disability affecting the way they walk. That raises a fair question. Today, why should a sporting stroke continue to carry a name that draws from disability or impaired movement?
This is not an attack on carrom. It is a suggestion made with respect for the sport. Few people who use the term intend any disrespect. Yet intent and impact are not always the same. Language evolves. Sports evolve. The words we use should evolve too. Cricket continually adds new words. Basketball celebrates them. Carrom has the opportunity to do the same without losing its soul.
The shot now called Langda could simply be called the “two-frame rebound”. That name describes exactly what happens. It is clear, technical, and respectful. It honours the skill of the player while avoiding a term that could unintentionally diminish others.
Sports are full of different strokes. The best ones do more than move a ball, shuttle, coin, or striker. They move the language forward too.
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Published on Jul 09, 2026