What's in a name

How many times have you been asked “What is your good name?”

My “good” name? It’s Mr. I’m-getting-really-bugged-with-Indian-English; would you like to know my “bad” name as well? By the way how do you know this is not my good name? Were you expecting a better one? Or shall I tell you my worse name, umm actually that was what my teacher called me when I didn’t know who build the Taj Mahal…..I think?? Or was it the one I was called with when my dad found out I gave myself a half-day off from school, without informing the teacher…oops slipped my mind, it happens, you know!! Anyway coming back to the name bit, what’s so good in a name? I mean there is nothing bad about your name, or having a name; it’s just a name, what you are called as by your friends, colleagues and family..and the rest of the 6 billion souls ; if only they met you, and read your name tag, well if you happen to have one on when they met you, of course not all at a time, I mean that would be statistically or physically impossible; and why on earth would you be having a name tag unless you were going for a conference or an interview, in which case, you are more likely to be having a number…like in prison.

And what is this thing called “Surname” or is it “Sur name”? Whatever the correct term is, I can do without it? Me, I have my Name, my family’s name and that’s it. Of course I also got my “pet” names, shortened names modified and sometimes affectionate ones – by which I am called, hollered, yelled at or texted. But, I ask you dear sir/madam, what in the name of…umm…what in the world is a “SUR”? To me, it doesn’t sound very pleasant, reminding me of similar sounding words like “sour” or “slur”

So I ask you again dear friends, what is a “sur”? but then, what’s in a name?

Of black pen, Bullet & "Bai"

There are very few things in life that could give a child a feeling of achievement as that of the transition from using a pencil to pen. The mighty, mighty pen -the symbol of maturity. As far as I can remember, I had been using black pens (black inked or refills, not a physically black coloured pen…duh). Why?I cant entirely explain, but I have been giving it some thought lately. Maybe because I wanted to escape the uniformity of using blue pens which is so cliché. I guess you can say I have a fetish for slightly unusual (not so, but just different) things (or this could be the extension of one’s need to be unique). I remember hanging out with frens who were not so popular – like a lanky Bengali lad, one very dirty boy (he never washed his clothes on weekdays) and another who by now had been convicted. I didn’t play or enjoy football as a kid, which was and still is almost religiously followed in Mizoram. And I still don’t. But I still play active basketball when most guys my age are happy to sit back and watch EPL on TV and call themselves “sport-lovers.” (not to mean a certain wedding planner here). I drive a 2^nd hand Bullet in spite of being very conscious about fuel price and mileage (the Indian effect), cos a Bullet is different and it totally rocks !! After years of ridicule, I am finally enjoying pork but I don’t go ga-ga over it or willing to kill for a piece. In fact, I have always opted for vegetarian food during my undergraduate years (very non tribal-like, I know). I don’t eat “bai” …why? don’t ask me cos I don’t know, I just don’t eat it. I don’t drink tea…tho I enjoy iced tea, and there’s a heaven n hell difference between the two. When my frens cram the whole night for a test or exam, I sleep at ten…..not because I know everything, but because I really don’t think much of last minute slogging.

I guess everyone is unique in his own way and when we learn to appreciate each others uniqueness and difference maybe we'll be better off a a species. And I write with a black pen.