What’s in a Name?

There are a few things that have always baffled me, and continue to do so. One amongst them is one’s name. It is one of your most important identities, yet something, to which you pay hardly any attention. It’s something that reflects your religion, caste, maybe even nationality and in some cases even behavioral patterns. People will remember you throughout your life by your name, and even after death, your name would continue to be your sole identity. Now if this name is so important why don’t we have a say in deciding what it should be? After all, the name is a part of me and a very important one too. My name, like in any others case as well, had been decided by my parents, albeit after much discussion and debate. Just that I wasn’t a part of any of those. The surname too is a family name. Neither I, nor my parents or their parents had a choice in deciding it. Btw, when I talk about the name, I refer to it in its entirety, “Name . Surname”.
Now when the version 1 in the Tendolkar family was rolled out, it was decided with consent of the elderly in the family and with some religious help that the baby would be named Pushkar. Its is a pretty uncommon name and it’s now that I appreciate the efforts that would have gone into deciding it. However, previously I couldn’t. I don’t know how long it took me to pronounce my name correctly, but surely would have been quite some time. Whenever I have tried telling someone my name, it being a little different, the response has been the customary “aannn” sound, meaning “didn’t get it”. At an early age this was a very weird if not an ugly feeling. Early on the issues were with the simplicity of the name. I found names like “Rohit”, “Vijay”, “Ram”…more appropriate, maybe because they were pretty common and secondly because the protagonists in the books that I read then had names. There was never a comic or a cartoon shown in which the main character was named “Pushkar”…sob sob. Then came another phase, when I realized that there is some meaning associated with every person’s name. However, it seemed to me that I would be unlucky on this front as well, that’s because the only meaning I could think of my name was “to push”, and I still remember my Tabla Sir calling me “Dhakal” meaning “push” in Marathi. It was then, that my mom comforted me, telling that my name has some 32 meanings. The religious priest who had played an important part in deciding what my name should have been had also handed over a piece of paper with all these meanings written on it. I am at loss of words to express my gratitude for this gentleman, but for him, my name would have always been a “verb” rather than a “proper noun”.
No sooner that my miseries with my first name end that the ones with my surname started. Now Mr. Pushkar Tendolkar was leading an ordinary life with an almost ordinary name. Ordinary because, I wasn’t a Sharma or a Malhotra like every alternate character from every alternate movie, which would have added glamour to it, and like any typical Maharashtrian surname it was post scripted with “kar”. Even though not a common one, it wasn’t as confusing as the first name. However I being at peace with my surname was soon to change. It all happened on 15th November 1989, when a curly haired, boy wonder debuted for the Indian cricket Team. His fault being, he shared my surname, with a subtle difference, that on a “U” and “O” in our surnames, a difference which was going to bug me for the rest of my life. Suddenly, I became a more popular figure in school, people being in awe of the surname now, I also commanded some respect, even got a promotion in the batting order of my class team. Along with the perks, however, there were also the fallouts. There was a class of people who used to ask me whether I am related to Sachin Tendulkar and if I could get them an autograph. At first all the attention was likable but after some time it becomes somewhat irritating. Then there was another set of people who used to point out a spelling mistake in my name. Now don’t these people understand that it’s not only difficult but impossible for a 15 year old to misspell his name however hard he may try? Every time I encountered these people I had to explain them the subtle difference in the surname and prove that these are indeed two different surnames. In fact I stopped bothering much if people misspelled my surname unless of course it was an important official document like passport, license etc. Once I had been to the district court to get my domicile certificate. Like any other government office, here too I had to pass through an array of gov. servants. The first one I met quizzed me about my surname and whether I was Sachin’s brother. I explained him the difference and moved on to the next table. Here I encountered a female and thought she might be more interested in knowing how Priya Tendulkar was related to me. But to my utter surprise, I was greeted with the same question. And the same scenario was repeated at the next table. Being a little bugged, I said “Yes I am his brother”, upon being asked the same qts at the next table. The reply was “Phir dono ke surname mein difference kyun hai”. I said “Cousin bhai hai” and left with my certificate stamped. Btw, it took me quite some time to move from one table to another and this one babu to another journey wasn’t as simple (for obvious reasons) as it may appear here. These third type of people were the most irritating of the lot. People who questioned why are the two surnames different? What difference does an “o” and “u” make, why did my surname have an “o” and his surname a “u”? Never, other then the reservation issue, had I felt that surnames were so important to some, until I met these people. Have they, anytime even thought of asking Sachin, why his Surname has a “u” instead of an “o”, that he misspells his surname etc.? Hope, I’ll give them a reason one day. High hopes…The conflict isn’t restricted to others, it is internal as well. Let me explain this with an instance. Once while batting (gulli cricket, of course), I found myself at the receiving end of one of the fastest bowler in our colony. And he was genuinely quick. To add to that he lacked direction. So there was always the possibility that you might find a ball directed straight at your nose. And that’s what happened. A misdirected full toss, aimed at my ribcage. Now, any sane person would have ducked or tried to get out of the trajectory of the ball. But not me! I tried to be too clever and decided to angle the ball past the wicketkeeper. If only the execution had been half as good as the intention. I wasn’t even through half the shot when the ball banged straight into my ribs. It took some time to recover my senses and to return back to normalcy. I realized, I had taken my surname a bit too seriously…After all what Shakespeare said is so true “What’s in a name?”