The Naming Syndrome

- by Janaki Krishnan

There is one sphere in Indian society that has undergone tremendous changes in my lifetime - the naming of the first-born.

In days bygone, among Hindu Brahmins from the South, naming or 'naamakaranam' was just a religious formality. A priest would be called, blessings invoked, and the name of the child would be whispered thrice into the child's ear. But there was no effort spent in choosing the child's name. No long lists were pored over, and no advice was sought from friends. By convention, the first born child got the name of the father's parents.

If it was a boy, he would be called exactly the same first name as his paternal grandfather, and if it was a girl, then she'd be named after her paternal grandmother.

The trouble was, in a joint family, the child could not be called by his first name, because it was also the grandparent's name. It would be too disrespectful! How do you scold a boy whose name is the same as your father's? Naturally, 'Subramanian' began to be called Mani, while 'Venkataraman' and 'Ramachandran ' were shortened to Ramu and Chandru.

Sometimes, there were added complications. The first-born sons of two brothers would both be named after their paternal grandfather. How do you manage two rascally cousins, growing up together in the same house, with the same name? This problem was solved by adding funny prefixes to names. My grandfather was called Mottai (Baldie) because his father never allowed him to grow his hair, while his cousin proudly flaunted a thick tuft at the back of his head.

Most names were derived from the names of Gods. It was believed that on your deathbed, if you had the Lord's name (also your son's) on your lips, your place in heaven was assured.

The second born child was named after maternal grandparents, reflecting India's patriarchal society. With no family planning, names had also to be found for an ever-increasing brood of children. For the third, fourth and so on, there were no prescribed rules. Usually they were named after the kula-devata (the family deity), or after specific gods and goddesses based on promises made to that god during domestic crisises.

As India's freedom movement gained momentum, people expressed their support by naming children Subash and Lakshmi. When India attained freedom, Bharat and Bharati became hot favourites. When the Second World War ended with victory for the Allies, my own sister was named Vijaya, for Victory.

Then in the post-independence era came our celluloid heroes. Every house had a Rajesh, an Anand, or a Dilip. Although the movie-star craze still continues, our cricket champions are their competitors. There are hundreds of Sachin's all over India.

In modern times, with intercaste marriages and nuclear families, couples have a wider choice in naming their projeny. They choose from books and lists, and from the Internet. Persian names are increasingly becoming popular. And once the first born is named, the second child's name is selected so that it either starts with the same alphabet, or rhymes or sounds pleasing when both names are said together. Ashan-Ahan. Deepa-Roopa. Akash-Aditya. Many Punjabi families pick names that have a Westernised feel to them - Bunty, Pinky, Babli and Sweetie, for example.

From an era where ancestral names were simply reused, naming has now become an art, a reflection of personal taste.