Victim of the ‘other’ name
The name didn’t suit her; she was too angry, always screaming and hitting the other kids.
The name didn’t suit her; she was too angry, always screaming and hitting the other kids. Bhaari naam tha, so we changed it. Her name is now Ayesha. How can a name be heavy? All thanks to age-old superstitions, along with the misguided suggestions of a fraudulent maulana sahib which resulted in the ‘other’ name. At times, supposed numbers don’t add up or the name doesn’t have the right meaning.
If a child is lucky, the name will be changed on all official documents and the old one will simply remain a memory, eventually fading off the tongues of family and friends. In most cases, it isn’t and so begins the vicious cycle of confusion and embarrassment, which follows a child around for the rest of their lives. “Why is your mom calling you Ayesha?” her friends asked one day, while enjoying a movie in her living room. “Ayesha, where is your homework?” asks the teacher at school, clearly speaking to another student. She accidentally replies, confusing both her teacher and her classmates.
“Hi Ayesha!” her friends say, teasing her endlessly at school. It’s never funny. It stops being a name; it becomes a constant source of amusement for others and a burden for her.
What’s in a name? An identity for one, be it a passport, a birth certificate, a driver’s licence or an NIC. Countless doodles on the back of a notebook throughout one’s teens, a Twitter or Instagram handle, an e-mail address; if seen socially, the list is endless. It is a basic form of recognition.
This backward practice has been the cause of a person’s name change even more than once, by the time they’re 16. I personally know such people. While this practice isn’t as widely acknowledged, and takes a back seat in most cases, it is something that needs to be recognised. Parents need to decide on one name at birth and stick to it. The social and emotional repercussions of having more than one first name are disastrous. Unfortunately, the repercussions of this practice only affect the person named; only that person truly understands the feeling. In some cases, they will start relating to one name more, they may internally refer to themselves by one particular name, shunning the other. She is not Ayesha.
Published in The Express Tribune, December 6th, 2013.
If a child is lucky, the name will be changed on all official documents and the old one will simply remain a memory, eventually fading off the tongues of family and friends. In most cases, it isn’t and so begins the vicious cycle of confusion and embarrassment, which follows a child around for the rest of their lives. “Why is your mom calling you Ayesha?” her friends asked one day, while enjoying a movie in her living room. “Ayesha, where is your homework?” asks the teacher at school, clearly speaking to another student. She accidentally replies, confusing both her teacher and her classmates.
“Hi Ayesha!” her friends say, teasing her endlessly at school. It’s never funny. It stops being a name; it becomes a constant source of amusement for others and a burden for her.
What’s in a name? An identity for one, be it a passport, a birth certificate, a driver’s licence or an NIC. Countless doodles on the back of a notebook throughout one’s teens, a Twitter or Instagram handle, an e-mail address; if seen socially, the list is endless. It is a basic form of recognition.
This backward practice has been the cause of a person’s name change even more than once, by the time they’re 16. I personally know such people. While this practice isn’t as widely acknowledged, and takes a back seat in most cases, it is something that needs to be recognised. Parents need to decide on one name at birth and stick to it. The social and emotional repercussions of having more than one first name are disastrous. Unfortunately, the repercussions of this practice only affect the person named; only that person truly understands the feeling. In some cases, they will start relating to one name more, they may internally refer to themselves by one particular name, shunning the other. She is not Ayesha.
Published in The Express Tribune, December 6th, 2013.