‘Turvasu Rutva?

The mothers and fathers might be Sharmilas and Deepikas and Ajays and Rakeshs — names that trip off one’s tongue with rehearsed ease. But their children’s names — Zaigham (lion) or Qudamah (courage) or Calder (stream) — trip up the tongue and compel a double take. Origins of first names now stretch beyond Sanskrit and Arabic to include Greek and Hebrew. Their meanings have extrapolated and the syllables mixed up. Today,names are like brands — they must be diverse,should avow the founders’ identity,must have a recall value and should foretell the nature of the product.

Suniti Sharma,principal of Maharani Gayatri Devi Girls’ school in Jaipur,and a teacher for more than three decades,says,“A lot of thought is now given to the meanings of names. Earlier there were a lot of meaningless names,like Anita,for example. Children used to be named after someone in the family — but no longer. There are more nuclear families,parents often only have one child so they find the names themselves and don’t necessarily rely on pundits. Names,I would say,have become more important.”

In a name,parents invest their aspirations for their child and hopes for themselves. Delhi-based Sana Rashid says that according to Islam,a name has a real impact on a child. She named her son Ashaaz meaning one in a million,as the name is said to bestow patience and obedience. “Since it was a boy,I wanted a name that would give patience,” Rashid says,adding,with a laugh,“Lekin woh abhi tak aaya nahi” of her six-year-old son,who protests if his name is ever mispronounced.

C Shamsher,a journalist in Chandigarh,knows the burden of a name all too well. He recalls,“My grandfather kept my name. I had issues with it. I felt it was archaic. In school,the boys were Siddharth or Atul. One student’s father was Shamsher!” For his own children he wanted names that would appeal to them through their lives. In his search for the unusual and meaningful,he found himself poring over tomes in the Chandigarh library. He named his son Turvasu Rutva — Sanskrit for the man who makes victory speeches or the leader who wins — and his daughter Gunanavya — one having nine good qualities. He and his wife Chandini receive constant reactions to these names,from surprise to consternation — but he is proud that no one in his six-year-old son’s class has a name this uncommon. As for him,he has come to peace with his own name,“Beyond a point,you get used to it. Now I have a moustache. I think my name now relates to my personality.”

On birth certificates,many of us were as ordinary as “Baby Girl” and “Baby Boy” — but we are what our parents finally name us. And in our names lurk a DNA strand of our personalities. Delhi-based Sushanta Banerjee,visiting faculty at the Indian Institute of Management,Ahmadabad,who studies group and individual behaviour,has created a “Namescript”. In it,he has concluded that at the time of naming,parents collect their manifest and unmanifest feelings and crystallise it into a name for their child. He says,“A name does a scripting. It helps you analyse the universe of connotations. We carry within us all the aspects of the name.”

Actor Raveena Tandon,whose name is a combination of her parents Ravi and Veena,named her daughter Rasha. “I believe in the vibrations that each name holds. I think names influence people a lot,” she says. For her daughter,she found a Russian-origin name that means both the first drops of rain and a golden gazelle. For Mumbai-based lawyer Anuj Bhasme,an ethnic name that sounded right for an Indian baby was the main criteria. For his 45-day-old baby girl,his wife Khushboo and he chose the name Amairah,which means God’s gift in Greek. He adds,“You want a name that sounds nice but is not too difficult. You don’t want a name where you’ll be made fun of in school.”

Ruma Purkayastha,principal of a Delhi school,believes that school attendance registers prove the changing trends in names. While Class XII might be full of Amitabhs and Aishwaryas battling acne and embracing adolescence,the younger classes have more Aryans and Agastyas and Manatanyas warring in the sand pit and slipping down slides. If 10-12 years ago,the most common boys’ name were Rahul and Siddharth,today Aryan has become the Shah Rukh Khan of names. Its profusion has even prompted Son of Bosey,“The Randomly Updated Humour Site”,to dedicate an entire blog entry to “Couple Decide not to Name new born son Aryan”.

While names tell us much about contemporary tastes,they have not been studied rigorously as markers of trends. Stanley Lieberson,professor at Harvard’s department of sociology and author of A Matter of Taste: How Names,Fashions,and Culture Change (2000),is one of the few exceptions. He feels that despite their potential,names are perceived as “trivial or thin issue” in

academic circles. In Children’s First Names: An Empirical Study of Social Tastes published in The American Journal of Sociology (1992) and co-authored with Eleanor O. Bell ,he elaborates on how “the naming activity is ultimately a social process”. For him,a name reflects the influence of the imagery associated with each name,parents’ notions about their children’s future characteristics,estimates of others’ response to the name,and parents’ beliefs of what are appropriate children’s names that accurately reflect their status and standing in society.

Celebrity baby names prove that parents choose the uncommon bordering on the bizarre to reflect their status. Geri Haliwell’s daughter goes by Blue Bell Madonna; Fifi Trixibell,Peaches,Pixie and Tiger Lily Heavenly Hirani are the children of Bob Geldof; Frank Zappa is father to Dweezil,Diva Muffin and Moon Unit. As Lieberson writes,“The taste for difference sometimes leads counterculture groups to pursue that which is unpopular to the broader society,particularly if it is shockingly different.”

For Mira Datta,from Pondicherry,“A name is a gift you give to your children at birth. It adds to their personality.” She found her daughters’ names in Maneka Gandhi’s Penguin Book of Hindu Names. Looking for unique Sanskrit names,she identified Smera,meaning fond memories; and Manya,meaning body of trust and respect. Growing up in the Sri Aurobindo Ashram in Pondicherry,Mira found herself surrounded by her namesakes,of all shapes and sizes,as it was the Mother’s name. For her daughters she wanted something more exclusive and took eight months to find names that matched all her criteria. Which included names that were not too long,that wouldn’t be mispronounced,that started with her and her husband’s initials and were phonetic to their names. She adds,“Shakespeare said ‘A rose by any other name would smell as sweet’,I am not so sure”. n