Lalitha Shankar does not tweet. So she crowed the ‘good news’ the old fashioned way, as an email to the friends’ group. Messages of congratulations came streaming in. Those of us who had already acquired the status, welcomed Lalitha and Shankar into the privileged guild of grandparents. Tap on us for any advice, we said, with the confidence of one who has been there and done that. But the request from the grandmother-to-be, stumped us all.
‘I am on the lookout for a name. Any suggestions?’ wrote Lalitha. That seemed like a dumb thing to ask for. Surely she was aware that at the click of the mouse, one could get multiple lists of all possible and impossible names. ‘Boy or Girl?’ queried someone. Since the entire family lived in North America, It was assumed that the sex of the unborn child would be known. Lalitha clarified that naming the child did not come within the ambit of her rights. ‘My concern is for a name for myself. I want a name by which the child would call me.’
That came as a surprise because the rest of us had tamely accepted being called ajji/ patti/ nani/ dadi /ammamma. Lalitha said she was rejecting all of them as they were too generic.
She wanted a special name, for the special person in the child’s life. I also inferred that as a well preserved, well groomed, high flying professional, Lalitha did not want to be tagged with a label that was also used to refer to an old person! As none of us could come up with a clever substitute, with time on our side, we promised to keep the search alive in our minds.
That’s how I observed, for the first time, that a fair number of grandmothers around had their own unique, usernames. While it was obvious how lalli ajji and Delhi nani came to be, many certainly did not come out of any dictionary. I was so intrigued by these that I probed into their origins. Every one of them, I learnt, had originated from the lips of the lisping grandchild.
While ‘taapi’ and ‘ji-ji’ were corruptions of the standards, ‘nu-nu-ma’ was the child’s way of saying, ‘another mother’ in the vernacular! One grandma had a more involved story to narrate. Apparently her husband, the grandfather, used to refer to her as the ‘Indira Gandhi’ of the house.
The toddler managed to get some of it and started to call the grandma ‘eiya aandhi’; of which ‘eya’ survived to be the name! I now have a suggestion for my friend; and for all the grandmas-to-be looking for a better option. Postpone the naming ceremony to such a time as the child can repeat after you. Then pick a difficult-to-say name that satisfactorily describes you.
Make the child say it and you will have a ‘calling’ name of your very own flavour! Lalitha could perhaps try, ‘gran-ma gorgeous’. Would Mama Gaga be an acceptable outcome?