A name’s journey

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I have a few names that met untimely deaths, though I’m still very much alive and kicking. Just a few days after my birth, I had to be made a Christian. The rule is that every first-born Christian girl takes her paternal grandmother’s name, and the first-born Christian boy takes his paternal grandfather’s. The second-born girl is given her maternal grandmother’s name, and the second-born boy takes his maternal grandfather’s. By the time the third child comes along? Oh, go ahead, pick any name—we're done following rules at that point.

So, I became Rose, named after my paternal grandma Rosamma. I can count on one hand the times I’ve actually been called Rose. First, at my baptism, when the priest poured water over my head and said, “Rose, I baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.” Then, during Holy Communion, the priest said, “Dear Lord, I ask you to bless Rose, who is preparing to receive Your Body and Blood.” At the time of my marriage, the priest asked, “Rose, are you ready to marry Paul?” Each time I was addressed as Rose, my eyes rolled. Who was he addressing? Precisely for this reason, I didn’t go for my Confirmation, yet another sacrament. But there’s no escape from the last sacrament, when all will gather around me and plead, “O Lord, please open the doors of Heaven for Rose when she knocks.” Whether or not I’ll get in is a whole other issue, but if I hear them call me Rose, I’m pretty sure I’ll rise up and say, “Call me Nisha!”

Legend has it that I had a knack for predicting the future as a wee child, and I knew which name would stick. I’ve been told that my grandfather named me Sunil. Sadly, he’s not around for me to ask what on earth inspired that choice. Apparently, I was Sunil for a hot minute.

When love overflows, it somehow makes our names shrink. So, Sunil became Sunu. But, as someone who's been a little allergic to too much love, one day, this little version of me stood up and actually declared, “Call me Nisha!” And just like that, it became official.

At home, I was Sunu, and outside, I was Nisha. This split personality continued until I married my colleague, who only knew me as Nisha. New life, new people, same old me—except now, I’m Nisha everywhere.


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