Archaic Names And Identity Crises

The need for a brighter name is an essential requirement for people of any generation as demonstrated by two friends of mine. Like actors of every generation, my friend Vineeth Ullanat Chembuzha, who realized he will get nowhere in film industry with that surname, changed it to Vineeth Viswam and now already has five films to his credit. Or his namesake Vineeth S, who has been experimenting with his surname since I first met him. He first changed his surname to his birthplace of Kottakal, then switched back to his father's name. A year later he added his mother's name with his name. Now he has his company name (a spoken English school he started) as his last name. The kind of socialist he is, pretty sure he'll adopt his wife's first name followed by his son's first name as his surname in future.

Couple of days ago, I read this article which claimed names determined the kind of character you will be perceived as. The article asserts that name can have an influence on the career path one might choose to follow. Usain Bolt would agree. So will both Vineeths, for that matter.

My real name, the name my father whispered into my ears twenty eight days after I was born was Sreekumaran. Of course after my grandfather Sreekumaran, the senior. You see, according to the traditions followed in a priestly community in which I was born into, a child is named after his/her grandfather/mother. But as my father recognized, this name wasn't fancy enough for the twenty first century, hence he changed it to Sharat when he enrolled me in a school.

Sreekumaran though isn't such an outdated name compared to what My sister got. She was named Nangeli after my grandmother. I'm not saying anything more.

My father's name is Nambiathan, after his grandfather. A really really archaic name for that matter. Inside the Namboodiri community, such a name would automatically evoke respect in the other person. But not elsewhere, as my father soon found out.

The oddity of his name was not fully realized by him until he moved to Delhi in early 70's and found out none of the Hindians could pronounce that regal name for their life. So he started going by his initials KSN for the rest of his life. Initials gave him the deserved respect thereafter.

Now, it so happens, that if there is a second kid, then he/she will be named after the maternal grandfather/mother. And if there is another one, then they shall be named after granduncles/aunts (brothers or sisters of the grandfather). Then grandmother, same repeated for maternal sides. So one can find a name for anyone provided he/she have enough grand relatives. One doesn't need to make up a new name. Unless, if a person has fifteen kids like my maternal grandfather from three different wives, but that's a story for another day.

My father might have realized the peculiarity of his name outside the Namboodiri community by the time my third Uncle was born. My father was eighteen by the time uncle Raman was to be enrolled in a school. He decided that his brothers won't be subjected to any mockery and signed my uncle as 'Sooraj' into school registers. Comparatively a modern name.

Uncle Sooraj/Raman grew up and realized his true calling doesn't lie in going outside the state and having a fancy day job like his elder brothers, but taking care of ancestral house and farm and involving in family traditions of Pooja, Mantra and Tantra. But then, the name proved to be a dampener for his career as no one apparently took a priest named 'Sooraj' seriously. Inadvertently, he switched back to Raman and started going by that name everywhere. I don't know if it has to do with the name change, but today he is one of most sought after person in religious conducts in Thrissur.

Now, Uncle Sooraj has a son who is named... Yes, Sreekumaran. Same as mine. Now, he didn't want his son to face the problem he had faced during his initial days as a priest and so he let that name be same in school records hoping for a huge career in Temple jobs in future for his son. Now you got to see, this field of 'beliefs' is at its peak presently. So naturally Uncle hoped his son would be equally learning all this with his elementary education. Imagine the confusion of the principals at his school and college who kept insisting my aunt that she had mixed up Father's and son's names in registration forms.

It so happens, Sreekumaran turned out to be a rebel with absolutely no interest in father's career and much more taken by computers and stuff. So we have a seventeen years old online gamer named Sreekumaran and a fifty year old priest named Sooraj. At least my uncle could go back to his traditional name, but my cousin is stuck with an archaic name in a fast moving world he plans to immerse himself into.

My youngest Uncle had the best deal, however. My second Uncle, Narayanan, thought he could do better than my father with the name. So Uncle, Narayanan, who turned eighteen that year, took my youngest Uncle, Damodaran, and rechristened him as Roopesh Babu. Nothing could be more fancy than that. And Roopesh Babu instantly became a hit. No one in that entire village had such an in-your-face name before that or had afterwards. That could be one of a reason why he is the most successful one out of all brothers.

Though, the article I read, then marinates in absurdity thereafter, the point is names have consequences, as one of the researchers say in the article. It can have all sorts of affects on a person's life.

Prejudging someone based on their name might seem unfair, we sometimes do so unwittingly when making decisions. But it sure makes sense. Imagine if Mogambo had been given a much more simpler name like Suresh, he definitely wouldn't have had an underground den in an island, rather his hideout would have been a small abandoned construction building near any Bus Stand. And 'Suresh Khush Hua' would definitely not have caught on. Or if it would have been Mangalassery Rahul, Mohanlal's character from Devasuram might not have had such a cult following.