Rowr, Rowr, Rowr, or They Call Me Yogi the Bear

I was sitting in the yoga studio yesterday, waiting for the instructor, reflecting on the heat of the room, the silence, meditating on the beads of sweat that had formed on my face (beads, I suspect, that spelled out “Help Me”).

And that’s when it began.

Does the word “borborygmi” mean anything to you?

Now there’s a word, a word that does exactly what it says on the tin.

Borborygmi is the medical term for stomach growling.

I’ve always enjoyed a good stomach growling. It amuses me. As a child, I imagined that it was another language, that there would be some message forthcoming, something like “You will be first at the bus stop today” or “Keep an eye on your brother – he’s planning something devious for later”.

Of course I’m not the first person to experience body noises in a room devoid of sound. Without getting scatological here, I think we can all remember a time or two where someone’s body has betrayed them, whether it’s at a yoga studio, a church, a work cubicle…

Not that I would know anything about that.

Still, my amusement at the sound of a growling stomach is matched only by my love of the word that describes it: borborygmi. The more you say it, the more it sounds like a growling stomach.

Go ahead. You know you want to say it.

If only more words would sound like what they mean.