What’s in a Name?

For quite some time, I hadn’t given much thought to the significance of my name and identity. I felt that my name, Kalpana, was a cherished one. I took pride in explaining that it meant “imagination,” and a professor from Sri Lanka even mentioned that it could also mean “consciousness.” Who wouldn’t appreciate a name with such beautiful connotations? It does seem that no one cares about my actual name.

Shakespeare famously wrote, “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” While this may hold true in a romantic context, it doesn’t always reflect reality. Perhaps Shakespeare was more concerned with the essence of love rather than the practicalities of names. My parents, unaware of the potential complications names could bring, believed that a name like Kalpana would be universally beneficial. They overlooked how prefixes and suffixes have become almost as significant as the names themselves.

In South Indian tradition, my name included two initials: C and S. “C” stood for the region my father’s family originated from long ago, and “S” was for my father’s name. Combining these initials with my full name resulted in a cumbersome 36-letter designation. This led to complications during my SSC exam, when I had to fill a form and I struggled with such an extended name. I was made to go to the school board office to get the problem resolved. Thankfully, officials were accommodating back then, and I was allowed to use the simplified name, C. S. Kalpana.

When I married, I didn’t realize I could simply adopt the prefix Rao to simplify my name. Still clinging to the poetic idealism of Shakespeare, I ended up with Kalpana H, where “H” represented my husband’s ancestral village. Despite a gazette notification and other formal registrations, I continued to use Rao, reflecting both my father’s and husband’s households. I had grown accustomed to signing my name as H. Kalpana Rao or just Kalpana Rao, and I didn’t give much thought to these complications as I continued to write and publish under these names. Of course, I always had an issue when I visited Canada or US with questions of my last name. Luckily, most people asked me how I would like to be called which gave me the choice of using Kalpana Rao.

Recently, however, the issue of my name became more pressing with the introduction of DigiYatra for digital travel. While I’m supportive of digital advancements, I overlooked the challenges they pose for South Indian names with initials. When booking a flight, I updated my form as Kalpana H but was addressed as Ms. H during the flight. Despite having a name with meaningful synonyms, it seemed I had become known as simply “H.”

The situation worsened when I used the DigiYatra app. I uploaded my Aadhar card, which lists my name as H. Kalpana, but my boarding pass had Kalpana Hulluru. (Well, I had to write the ‘Hulluru’ so that I was not addressed as Ms. H) This mismatch led to complications, and customer care advised me to either change my Aadhar entry or correct the name on my ticket.

As a senior citizen, I find myself entangled in this name-related dilemma, pondering whether it should matter or not. Hamlet’s existential question “to be or not to be” feels particularly relevant now. Perhaps it’s time to step back and find some rest from this naming conundrum.