What’s in a name?
It probably began that day. A nervous 11 year old me standing in a queue about to step into a new world. The admin had a list of names of the new admits and he began with a bellow, “Abhrahim”! The kids behind me giggled and I joined them with a sheepish smile. And so began the onslaught. Over years my name has been butchered in 100 different ways I didn’t even think was possible. Abraham sometimes, Ibrahim sometimes, one time it was even Abram! Every time a barista in a coffee shop was about to call out my name, it feels like going under the Sorting Hat.
When people get my name wrong, I am never offended. Yeah, I go out and tweet about it for fun. But that’s a different story. To make a Shakespearean reference, what’s in a name? And this attitude also meant, I didn’t take the habit of getting other people’s name right seriously. I made half-hearted attempts to get names right because everyone did so, but never really understood this obsession behind getting the pronunciation right.
That was until I read this — Say My Name, by Meleika Gesa-Fatafehi. Powerful lines that emphasize the importance of getting the pronunciation correct.
What I failed to understand is that, there is a strong sense of history behind every name. So many stories, legacies and much much more. By getting a name wrong I was failing in some way to recognize this because of my lackadaisical pronunciation. The fact that I don’t care if people get my name right doesn’t mean others feel the same way. May be if I start putting in the effort others will start reciprocating the same.
Until then I will take all the chastising that comes my way when I get a name wrong. KHAN, KH, KH, KH, from the epiglottis, you morons! 😅
