What's In A Name! They Say...

Twenty three years of my life and I guess I can count the number of times my name has been pronounced or spelled correctly. As a kid I used to come back home from school and sit on the bed, sulking and complaining how no one, not even one teacher pronounced my name correctly. They either called me Sriranjini or for their convenience made it Srironjoni.  And to make things worse for the teachers, I don’t spell my surname by conventionally using the Dutta. I spell it with an A.

Every year when the report cards where given, everyone would be anxious about their marks. But I was anxious about the spelling of my name. I hoped that this time, this teacher would spell it correctly. But somewhere or the other there was a mistake, and till class five, I used to go to the teacher and make them correct the spelling. But then I gave up.

My class mates shortened my name Sriranjani to Sriru, to my horror and disgust. I tried to convince them to not call me by that name, but they won’t listen. So I gave in. In college I became Jini. There is a story behind that. While my name was being enrolled, someone wrote my name as Sriranjohnny (not unlikely, considering, for Bengalis all “a”s become “o”s.). My HOD an old Anglo Indian man said, “So my dear girl, you have Johnny in your name? Like the nursery rhyme?” Some idiot in class shouted, “Or it can be like the brand Jinny and johny!” and there it was.  A new name for me was coined. I was called Jinni for the rest of my college life and much later. Unlike the name, Sriru in school, I kind of liked the name Jinni, and when I went for my post-graduation, I did not give my class mates there another chance to distort my already distorted name.

What surprises me the most is that people get my name wrong even when I clearly spell it out for them.  How is that even humanly possible? This has happened not once but repeatedly.  In certificates of participations to the by-lines of articles I wrote. Even in my school passing certificate, and my voter I.D card and my pan card, my name was spelt wrong. And every time I had to send it back for correction.  

After a point of time, it becomes kind of frustrating. Yes I know my parents were trying to be creative by not naming me a Sreyashi or Ananya or paromita who are produced in thousands every year in Bengal, but then they tried it too hard, and ended up naming me after a South Indian classical Raga. If you are thinking that I have a wonderful voice, you will be disappointed to know, that my music teacher actually abandoned me. See I don’t even do justice to my name.

This is the story I am sure of many other sons and daughters of creative parents.  I guess, when parents name their child creatively, God up there, smiles and makes plans to spoil it all, and have a good laugh.  As the Bengali idiom goes: kana cheler naam Padmalochon. (I am sorry, the translation is not that funny. It is an example of a miss-nomenclature. Like naming me after a classic raga was an epic fail. even the dogs howl in tune.)

So as I earnestly call out to my readers and make a request to spell my name right when you write a comment (I really want to publish your comment, but I want my name to be correct too, right? And my name is right there see? Not asking much of you? Am I? You can even just copy and paste it!), I thank my lucky stars that my parents did not name me Lovely or Sunny. That would have been far more embarrassing I am sure.

P.S. 21.02.14. I came across this while surfing the net absent-mindedly. They have put down my thought perfectly well and in an animated way... pretty impressive. Do have a look.