What’s in a name?

Dear Son,

Today I wanted to share the story behind your name. But to share that I first have to tell you a story about my name.

You see, when your grandparents had a daughter they were overjoyed. They wanted to give her a name that was unique and had a special meaning. They named her (me), Perzen which in Persian means glow. There was only one problem. No one could pronounce it. So, your poor mum has been called various names over the years from Farnez to Furzan to Pervin to Perzaan. Anything except Perzen. My favorite has to be the story of what my 8th standard teacher called me. I was new to this school and was asked to introduce myself to the teacher. I told her my name and she promptly turned towards the class and said, “Class, Please let’s welcome Furnace”.

Needless to say I was mocked for the whole of that year and science ceased to be my favorite subject.

Over the years I have come to embrace my name and now respond to anything that remotely sounds like it without getting angry. But, when I found out I was pregnant with you I wanted to take my responsibility seriously. There were a lot of boxes your name had to check. It had to be short yet have a meaning. We wanted to name you according to the ‘Rashi’ (lucky alphabet as per the birth time) yet it had to be a modern name. It also had to be unique without being so whacky that you were made fun of in the Parsi colony and finally it had to be one that could be pronounced by Indians and Foreigners alike. I have known many a “Karan” who were called Karen in New Zealand and I didn’t want that same fate for you.

So obsessed I was with finding the perfect name that I had an ongoing list of names that I kept adding to whenever I came across something I liked. Your mom was anal enough to have created a list with names from almost every letter of the alphabet. The only problem was that I was convinced you were a girl when you were inside my tummy and so I forgot to think of any boy names.

When you came kicking into this world and the doctor said, “It’s a Boy”, I was stunned. My first thought was that I had no name planned for you! Yes, even before I proceeded to stare at your face and kiss your pretty little fingers.

I have always hated the idea of not naming babies for 45 days as is the custom in many cultures and was determined to come up with a name on the day you were born itself! How else was I supposed to introduce my little angel to the world otherwise? Also, I must admit here that your mom follows a parenting ideology called ‘Lazy Parenting’ and naming you in the hospital itself meant I’d get the birth certificate all sorted and wouldn’t have to wait for hours at the municipality office later. This was quite the added bonus!

The problem? According to your Rashi, we could only give you a name from the letter M or T. The only Parsi boy names I could think of from T were Tehmul, Tempton and Tehmurasp. Needless to say, the letter T was out of the picture fairly soon. From M, for the longest time I could only think of Minoo, Maneck and Meherzad. None sounded remotely appealing.

Worn out from my epidural and long labor I decided to give my mind a rest. To calm down, I started praying and decided to thank God. After finishing my prayer in Avestan, I proceeded to say “Thank you Dadaji. Tume Mari Murad Par Koshy”. You were after all a happy, healthy little baby and my wish that had come true.

And that’s when I came upon the name, Murad. Not only did the name have a lovely meaning — a wish come true — but it was also simple, short and easy! Excited, I couldn’t wait until when your father came to visit me so that I could tell him what I had decided. The same evening, when our extended family came to meet us, we told everyone, “Come meet our Murad”.

But the story doesn’t end here. You see given your mom loves writing about food and about your exploits, I also had to come up with a ‘web name’ for you. When I mentioned this in passing to the girls who work in my kitchen they told me Inhad to name you, ‘Bawa Kebab’. Not only were you cute like a tiny kebab but your mom had eaten so many Kebabs when you were in her tummy that the memory had to be preserved somehow!

So that my son is the story behind your name. It’s only been a year and you already have a host of nick names. From Little Man M to Muri to Muuuuuuu, you get called a lot of names. But for me, you will always be my “Murad” that came true.

This post is part of the annual #BlogChatterA2Z Challenge .When my son was born I promised myself I’d write him love letters as often as I could as this challenge is part of that promise. W is for Whats in a name. Do follow P for Parenting for more articles in this series and to read my next post X is for Xanthan Gum.