Sunday, December 10, 2000		Article

AN American psychologist who has made a thorough study of names says that an embarrassing name can have a detrimental effect on the mind of its bearer. So much so that it can even shorten his or her life span. So, advises the psychologist, parents should exercise great care while choosing a name for their child, for an ill-chosen name can prove harmful for the mental as well as physical growth of the child.

But what about surnames? Some surnames are not exactly ornamental. And a surname can’t be changed. It is something that one has to live with willy-nilly. Here is an interesting case of a woman named Rosy Paton. So far as names go, Rosy Paton is not a bad name. However, when Rosy Paton married a fellow called Andre Bottom, she had to take her husband’s surname. So Rosy Paton, after marriage, became Rosy Bottom: obviously a name that she was not very comfortable with.

Sometimes one’s first name may be a complete antithesis of one’s surname. That’s semantically. Take the case of a girl called Komal. Her full maiden name was Komal Kapoor. The name, doubtless, had a certain musical alliteration. But after her marriage when she became Komal Talwar, not only was that alliteration gone but a certain oddity crept in. Can a Talwar (sword) be ever Komal (delicate)?

I once knew a man named Zalim Singh. Now, Zalim means a merciless tyrant. Well, it might have been an impressive, even formidable name in medieval times when bloodthirsty tyrants ruled the roost and ordinary people lived in mortal fear of being put to sword by them. But, in the late 20th century with UNO, Amnesty International, and numerous human rights organisations, Zalim Singh appeared to be a horribly incongruous name.

Not that Zalim Singh himself was not aware of it. But, poor fellow, he could do precious little about it. This Albatross had been put round his neck by his parents at the time of his birth. ‘‘I know my name is not right,’’ he once said to me over a cup of tea. ‘‘How can I be zalim when I cannot see even a bird killed before my eyes? It was, of course, my parents’ fault that they gave me such a name. And all these years I have lived with the embarrassment my name causes me every day.’’

‘‘Don’t you think you can avoid this embarrassment?’’ I asked him, rather quizzically.

‘‘How?’’ he reacted sharply. ‘‘Unless I change my name....’’

‘‘Oh no, you need not change your name,’’ I interrupted him. ‘‘In fact, all that you need do is to use the initials of your first name followed by your surname. Henceforth call yourself Z.S. — by the way, what’s your surname?’’

For a while he remained silent, and then said, ‘‘My surname is worse than my Christian name.’’

‘‘Oh, don’t make a heavy weather of it,’’ I chided him. ‘‘Tell me what is your surname.’’

‘‘My surname is Chhurra. It’s a sub-caste of Punjabi Khatris. Now you know that Chhurra means a dagger. So even if I introduce myself to the world as Z.S. Chhurra, it would not be an improvement upon Zalim Singh.’’

It brings me back to the American psychologist who warns people against giving wrong names to their children. But, in our country wrong names, in some cases, owe their origin to the stranglehold that superstitions have had over us for centuries. There was a time when child mortality rate in India was very high. Malnutrition and poor medical facilities were the chief reasons for this phenomenon. But owing to illiteracy and ignorance, people thought that their children died because of the evil-eye cast on them by their malicious neighbours or ill-disposed relatives. So they thought if they gave their children ugly, unsavoury names, they would escape the effect of the evil-eye.

I remember my uncle (my mother’s brother) was named Koora Mal. When once I asked my mother why her brother was named Koora Mal (one who has been picked up from a garbage heap), she said. ‘‘The first two children born to my mother died in their infancy. So my mother thought that if she gave her next child an ugly, unsightly name, it might survive. So when my brother was born, she instantly named him Koora Mal. Luckily, my brother survived.’’

Things, however, are now changing fast. The cobwebs of superstitions and illogical beliefs are rapidly being swept aside by the powerful broom of education. Modern-day parents, well-educated as they are, give their children meaningful, sophisticated names. You no longer find on the roll of a school, particularly in urban areas, names such as Tota Ram, Mussadi Lal, Ruldu Ram, Pakori Mal, Ghasita Ram and so on. So, children of the present generation do not have to face the jibes and jokes of their classmates because of their embarrassing names.