You might want to consider a few spirit-laying and house-cleaning charms as well, to get the bad mojo out of the air. Burn some sage, sprinkle some salt...
As fate would have it, an excellent film about the Sepoy Rebellion was released last month entitled "Mangal Pandey: The Rising." Starring Aamir Khan, it's a three-hour Bollywood extravaganza and I recommend it highly to all Making Light readers (although its account is extremely fictionalized). Those of you who live in cities with sizable Indian populations may be able to find it playing on the big screen at specialty theaters; check you local Indian grocery store, the one with the spices and the wall full of Bollywood DVDs.
Steve, your guess is not bad, even though it led you in the wrong direction. "Ungelic" looks like "angelic" but it's really "unlike" -- and "niht" isn't like the Yiddish "nisht," it became "night." (That gh sound was once a gutteral).
But your attempt at translation reminds of traveling with my grandmother to Spain. We'd just got off the plane, and at customs we encountered a sign that read "por favor espere aqui."
Gramma squinted at it for a while and then said, slowly, in a very puzzled voice, "Please ... breathe ... water."
When I was submitting fiction (and I might again, someday) I was about 16, and I loved getting rejection letters. Why? I told people they were the universe's way of recognizing your existance. ``You exist! Your work does not meet our needs at this time! Yet, you exist!''
I saw someone reading ``Story'' mag on a bus and said cheerfully, ``Hey, I was rejected by them!''
``Me too!'' she replied. We became fast friends.
Rejection is the privelege of the creative. Mundanes, poor souls, meet with nothing but acceptance.
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