It's All In The Name

When William Shakespeare wrote his "What's In A Name?" spiel, I don't think he had any idea how far from the truth that quote really was. Most people's names last them a lifetime -- a name change, sex change notwithstanding. What your parents name you, usually stays with you for a long long time, unless your new name (like Sting, Prince, Bono, Marilyn Monroe) catapults you to superstardom.

But what about the mere mortals who begrudgingly live their lives with a name they hesitate to announce? At work once, I was in the midst of releasing a whole lot of pages and screaming about deadlines when I got a call on the intercom. The caller told me he was waiting at the reception and had come to meet me on a common friend's recommendation. I muttered something to myself in irritation and went to meet him. A tall guy with charming dimples stretched out his hand to greet me. Nothing prepared me for what happened next. He said, "Hi, I'm Humpesh."

"Is this really happening?" I thought to myself, trying ever so hard not to make any eye contact. Just to make sure (and for an additional dose of cheap thrills, of course) I said: "Hi I'm Lakshmi... I'm sorry I didn't get your name."

He smiled, "Humpesh." What happened after that is one big blur. I deserve an Oscar for not laughing in his face, especially when he said, "I know I came at the wrong time... I must be such a pain in the ass." I really didn't laugh aloud, just went with the flow and said, "My pleasure."

I've encountered many such people whose parents evidently hated them and chose to mar them for their lives with such names. Yes the common ones like Rakshit, Hardik and Hardeep seem to be friends with a lot of people I know. Surnames like Brar and Chothia always evoke a snigger. There's another one I'm surprised to know is quite a common surname in India and a name in Europe: Lund. Just the thought that there's an entire family of Lund somewhere seems quite hard to swallow.

 

Over the years you master that gentle smile when you talk to these people; the smile that hides a tsunami of laughter. In most cases you succeed. A girl in my school was called Conception D'Souza. We never quite understood why her parents stated the obvious. But as kids it was hilarious when the teacher would call her, "Miss Conception."

As you grow older, you realise that names are a cultural thing. A swear word in one language is a compliment in another. I felt the same way at one stage, when I was trying to grow up rapidly. I know you get wise with age, but you also appreciate double entendres better. A hostel mate in Bangalore introduced herself as Choden. Choden means the devout or religious one in Tibet. For all my "getting wise" phase, I don't ever recall making eye contact with her subsequently when she said, "God, I'm so screwed."