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My Good Name

A masters in English Literature, Tillie is a close observer of human nature and enjoys writing flash fiction and short stories.

The demons Sunda and Upasunda disputing the apsara Tilottama

The demons Sunda and Upasunda disputing the apsara Tilottama

What is in a name? Well. actually there's plenty


Having been christened Tilottama and being sent to a missionary school is like having a double whammy on you. Each time the teacher wanted to mark attendance, my little heart would start beating fast and I would want the moment to pass quickly. But each time when the pen paused in mid air above my name, the teacher’s eyebrows would be knit in concentration and consternation while she struggled yet again to pronounce my name which is a mouthful for anyone, let alone those who are not so familiar with mythological tongue twisters.

All this happened because I was born to a Bengali father, who despite being a doctor was a romantic at heart and spouted poetry and other quotable quotes while tending to his patients. Baba actually had quotations from Shakespeare, Tagore and other poets written at the back of his diaries and took great pleasure in finding an apt one for each of his many patients. His fiercely loyal and grateful patients often asked him to suggest names for their children and thus grew a generation of Bengalis who had not only been cured by him of sniffles and other ailments but had also been baptised by him.

Of fathers and daughters

Trouble started when my Bengali-at-heart father wanted an English education for his second daughter.

The upshot was that in class after class, my teachers, who were more comfortable with names like Marie, Rita, Richard etc., struggled with my unpronounceable lengthy name while I envied other girls who had short, sweet and extremely pronounceable names such as Sita, Gita, Rita, Anita, Nina etc. And each time someone asked me my name, I would want to hide and mumble, while the asker would raise one quizzical eyebrow after another and wonder what it was that I was saying.

It changed in the higher classes though, with teachers becoming more and more comfortable with the mouthful. But ah, the sisters, they still found it impossible…

Short and sweet

My friends, bless them, came up with the perfect solution. They just shortened it by lopping off the double t’s, a’s and the m and replaced the o (after the l) with an i or a y, after making it l squared. For me, there was no looking back after that. Life changed and I was born in a new avatar as Tilly, Tilli or Tillie – it was so short, so sweet. “What is in a name……”, now I thought boldly and even softened towards my romantic and poetic Bengali-at heart father. Now, for the first time, I could even look everyone in the eye while being introduced and, if I ever wished to hide and whisper my name inaudibly, my friends would quip quickly and say, “She’s Tilli”, and end the introductions there. .

It wasn’t easy out of school either. Only the Bengalis would roll my name around with relish in mouths out of which only rounded syllables rolled out. After savouring the sweetness of my good name, with an appreciativeBaah baah!”, they would ask if I had a nickname. For every good Bengali was expected to have not only a lengthy good name but also a short and sweet daak naam (pet name). The North Indians, on the other hand, looked perplexed at having to pronounce such a difficult sound and would axe a couple of syllables while the South Indians would add an extra m and maternalise me into an amma!

By the time I reached college, my name and fame as Tilli had spread and I waltzed through my five years in college and the university wearing my name as a badge of honour. Luckily for me, now even my teachers were not unduly troubled at having to call out my longish name.

Of course there still were uncomfortable moments whenever anyone asked me the meaning of such an unusual name. I would blush before narrating the story of the celestial maiden created by the gods to distract and destroy the demons and wish for the umpteenth time that I had been blest by my father with a name that was nondescript!

To be or not to be

When I was to get married into a pucca Punjabi family, my name came back to haunt me like Hamlet’s father’s ghost. “It’s a tradition in our family to give the daughter-in-law a new name”, my mother-in-law-to-be, who needless to say would have found names like Bunty and Bubbli more congenial, stoutly announced. “After all, even I was called Phool at home but Bauji re-named me Susheela”, she said, in a voice that said, “it’s my turn now”. “So it’s my turn now”, I thought, suitably horrified, “but in today's day and date?” My long multi syllabic name flashed before my eyes and never seemed sweeter. “Such a unique name too”, I thought indignantly.

Mercifully, it was my pucca Punjabi husband-to-be who reasoned with his matriarch and came to my rescue. He saved me from having to erase my identity from all my certificates and from the face of this earth. I humbly accepted that from now on, my very Bengali name would be pronounced not in the lilting Bengali way but in a pucca pained Punjabi way of trying to grapple with an alien sound.

My pucca Punjabi mother-in-law’s mother turned out to be very sporting indeed. She embraced her favourite grandson’s choice unquestioningly and called me Tillie, much to my delight and relief. No fuss, no eyebrows. Chachiji called me Tillie right to the end of her days, as did the entire kin in that part of the country.

Now decades later, I have learnt to live with my name and discovered the pleasures of having a different, and maybe even difficult name. There are not too many mouthfuls of us around which makes it easier for friends, especially those of yesteryears, to locate us.

So thereby, dear friends, hangs the tale of Tillie’s name.

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Comments

Geeta Gujral on July 30, 2020:

A lovely narrative! Enjoyed the bumpy ride between Tillie and Tilottama with you!!

Meera Juneja on July 29, 2020:

And Tilottama..to human error let’s add the vagaries of autocorrect..

The struggle is on many planes!!!

Meera Juneja on July 29, 2020:

The tale told well here has one more perspective

G B Shaw moaned over the democratisation of culture..and one’s unique name identity is lopped and shaped to be popularly palatable..when will we ever learn!!

Wear your name with pride dear Tillotama..the onus lies with the pronouncer and speller to make that extra effort..it can only enrich the diversity

srabani roy choudhury on July 28, 2020:

hey hey, empathise and sympathise with you. I too have gone through this and I am sure many more bongs growing up in other parts of India or across the world. After all, bongs believe in distinguishing themselves as intellectual superiority through christening their child with unheard-of names

Tillie's Tales (author) from India on August 13, 2014:

Hi La Elsen, Thanks for reading and I'm so happy you think my name I beautiful! I hope my father is listening. Touched that you have put in so much thought in naming your children. They will appreciate it especially when they're older.

LA Elsen from Chicago, IL on October 04, 2012:

Thanks for writing this. My husband and I went through so many debates on naming our children. Our last was going to be Wolfgang. We thought it was great because of our heritage. Then we remembered how difficult it was with names in school and somehow teachers can add to the difficulty. Your name is beautiful. Thanks for writing. I really enjoyed your hub.

Tillie's Tales (author) from India on April 28, 2012:

Thanks dear Khuku. Each time I get a pat on my back, I send it across the seven seas to you. I am humbled by your praise and misty eyed by Baba and Kaku memories. For in my mind your father and mine are intrinsically woven....

Khuku on April 28, 2012:

Mithu!!! Imagine learning about your name woes some 30 + yrs later!! :)) I got lucky.. mine was easy.. Anita that is, and did not realize that Mother Catherine, or Mother Mary of Grace could get their mouths around your name!! Well guess the beautiful Irish nuns can be excused but the teachers? Excuse me?? They did live in India .. :) :)

As for your dad, my Dactar Kaku :P .. he was an angel on earth .. the best Kaku I had. And you are right, he did far more than cure his beloved patients, he actually cared, and thus the fierce loyalty from everyone whose lives he ever touched.

Super hub and what a story teller you are .. made it all come alive! :)

Tillie's Tales (author) from India on April 12, 2012:

Thanks for stopping by, Juhi. See, this has been one advantage of having such a "good name"!

Juhi Basoya on April 12, 2012:

Some may ask, "What's in a name?" But we writers know, therein hangs a tale :)

Tillie's Tales (author) from India on February 29, 2012:

Dear sen.sush23,

Thanks. Coming from a blogger with impressive statistics such as yours, I take this as a huge compliment! Shhhh Sush, mum's the word, let that be your secret and mine - the meaning of my good name! Otherwise, it would make me blush all the more.....

Tillie's Tales (author) from India on February 28, 2012:

Thanks Pallavi. I thought they would have eaten up the a in between, making it Pallvi. Yet others might say Pollobi! (you know which ones :D)

Sushmita from Kolkata, India on February 28, 2012:

Tilli, I really enjoyed reading this refreshing personal saga. Wonderful style and makes me ask for more. Voted up funny, beautiful and sharing. Btw, you did not disclose to those who might care to know, that your rather a mouthful name actually means 'a peerless beauty made from minute grains of beauty'. :)

Pallavi Gandhi on February 26, 2012:

he he i really enjoyed reading this...born in a part-punju family myself, that always ate away the extra 'l' i had in my name, i didnt quite learn to correctly pronounce it till much later ; P

Tillie's Tales (author) from India on February 25, 2012:

Thanks Geeti. It was a joy to read your comment! You are generous. Glad you enjoyed.

geeti shukla on February 25, 2012:

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose

By any other name would smell as sweet."

What a precious bit of writing, Tillottama! I waited till Saturday so I could savor it with my morning cup of white tea(garam pani) and what a joy it was to do so.

Tillie's Tales (author) from India on February 23, 2012:

Hi Enlydia,Thanks for stopping by. Your name has a musical ring to it and Listener is its mysterious part. I sure am impressed by your profile, bio and so many hubs. I sure have a lot to learn from you!

Enlydia Listener from trailer in the country on February 23, 2012:

I enjoyed reading this...thanks for sharing your woes and joys of your name...I didn't much care for my name either...the sound of it has this rise and then sudden fall into "blah-ness".

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