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| What's in a name? |
Shakespeare’s assertion that a rose will smell the same even if named otherwise makes sense but not when political undertones reflect a sinister design. This said, names carry the legacy that provides continuity to the existence of people and places. Further, names provide a sense of belongingness for those who inhabit the place, with a sense of purpose and a reason for the place to be. Any disconnect has undocumented implications. Such is its psychic impact that people carry forward pre-partition memories by naming their present dwellings as Kohat Enclaves, Multan Nagars and the like. Even within the country, the trend has prevailed within major cities. There is an innate connection that aligns the soul of the place with the identity of its people.
No surprise that even after half a century of living in Delhi, I continue to register my identity with our ancestral village. Isn't such perception true for many of us? However, it gives me a continuity of existence though it may not define the nature of my being, the cultural lineage to the place remains valuable nonetheless. Social scientists suggest that such perception is borne out of the realization that the place is neither just a site, nor people, politics or culture, but a chemistry between all this and much more. However, rarely if ever the process of re-alphabetization captures nuances of names, and the cornucopia of their meanings. No wonder, the terrain of placenism has remained a never-ending historical phenomenon revolving around political influence.
I reckon that in nomenclature are embedded an array of confounding emotions. Despite the politics of the time laying ugly claims over names, what lies immersed in the collective psyche cannot be held back from the people for long. Despite its name being changed to Rupnagar some four decades ago, people of this town in Punjab have held onto its maiden name - Ropar. In similar vein, Mohali is preferred over its official title Sahibzada Ajit Singh Nagar. So seems true for Mumbai and Chennai, where collective memory has conveniently prevailed over the enforced colonial identity. In all these cases, the sub-national identity has seemingly surfaced to claim legitimacy over identity, power and space.
Name brings forth the city through memory, through what is, what was, and its people who leave and return. However, re-alphabetization seems to curb its desires, and restricts its freedom. Prayagraj is a case in point. Meaning the confluence of two rivers, the term prayag lay subsumed within Allahabad. By renaming the iconic city as Prayagraj, the geography of the place has been given prominence over its chequered history. Need it be said that the new name Prayagraj will need lots of feeding, vacuuming, washing, and tuning to remain relevant because it has always been a part of the vast expanse of the socio-cultural landscape called Allahabad. Will erasing memories of the whole for its part be worth the cost, only time will tell.
If the idea is to exaggerate the character profiles of our existing cities, then re-alphabetization should be used as the metaphor to transform the postscript from the cities' existing nomenclature. After all, there are any number of cities that carry bad and poor as their inborn inheritances. Hydera-bad, Allaha-bad, Kan-poor and Nag-poor are just a few, even in pun lie reflections for a serious attention. Unless re-alphabetization means transformation, one would continue to ask: what's in a name?'
First published in The Hindu on March 20, 2022.
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