I spelled out my full name to a booking agent over the phone the other day and here’s what followed:
OJ: _ as in _, _as in _, ……
Agent:*silence*
OJ: Hello?
Agent: Are you an Indian national?
OJ: Yes
Agent: Different name, no?
OJ: It’s a Parsi name. Have you met a Parsi before?
Agent: Oh. You are the first Parsi I have ever spoken to!
OJ: Congratulations.
And such it goes. Perhaps now it’ll be easier to accept that tribal status. I should’ve thrown in a couple war cries while I was at it. Pity he couldn’t see my plumage. Tsk.
Awww, don’t feel affronted OJ. When in Haryana, even Delhiites (neighbours and daily commuters and all that) are also made to feel like aliens. True story! Does that make you feel better? No?
Been lurking all this while.. or maybe I de-lurked long back. Thought of saying Hi!
PS: I love how you’ve named your categories.
Ah! all the misadventures with names.. they remove the R, Add an I,an A… even ask me…..are you sure this is how you spell it … and in the USA roughly translated my name means a Mad Prostitute … π ( As mentioned in some earlier comment, my Mom is still in shock π )
In Kerala we have random ‘H’s added and ‘U’s substituted-
I’d become Mrs Thanuja, which wasn’t too bad, considering, but the husband didn’t like being Mr. Thanuja at all!
I guess we are all minorities in different parts of the country.
Happy Haryana-ing, OJ.
Dare I ask, what are you going to do there?
In Delhi, and oh boy! especially in Haryana, everyone is an outsider… Well, you gave him good education, widened his horizons. Now he surely would know that the world has more people than Haryanavis, haha π
adarkcomedycalledlife: Hello again. Thanks, didn’t think anyone noticed the categories.
M…: Yes, and I’m still cracking up. It’s such a pretty name. And said with your last, it’s almost lyrical.
dipali: Nowhere near it. π The call centre for the office I wanted to reach is based out of there.
Anjali: Oh he knew what/who a Parsi is. I’m just bemused, especially because most of my community lives their whole lives communing with only themselves, not even realizing that a majority of the world hasn’t a clue we exist.
During pre-comp railway reservations of yore
In our Air Force peregrinations, and before
We four Bamboats
Were turned into Dumgoats
Better to be Sharmas or Varmas, we swore!
ahem… go through a bit of this everyday here in the us, where my oh-so-indian name gets mutilated on a regular basis π¦
Aunty G: π Not Gumboots? I’ve heard that so often.
jp: Happened to me in the U.S. too, except my oh-not-so-Indian name isn’t spared in India either. π¦ Super sigh.
I’m a Parsi too and I know exactly what you mean. I’ve had my name wrangled in all the Indian accents, lots of European and London ones and the worst I am sorry to say, was the Canadian.
Ofbunkyandbobban: But yours is so simple! It’s a variation of my mum’s. π
I KNOW! It’s just two syllables and STILL nomenclatural murder happens π¦
Ofbunkyandbobban: Cognitive laziness, m’dear. We’ll just put it down to that. How come you don’t scribble anymore?
Boredom only π¦
Ofbunkyandbobban: But *I* wasn’t bored! It was a fun read. Really.
@adarkcomedycalledlife You’re lucky to be alive. She usually shoots lurkers on sight.
Guy: And you are what, self-appointed spokesperson for WWNP? π
Is this about me? *bats lashes* I’m no lurker sire, she knows me and my defunct blogspot. Love me, love my blog π
Ofbunkyandbobban: Yes hon, it’s all about you. And the self-appointed WWNP spokesperson. On my blog.
It’s the price you pay for awesomeness, jammiegirl.
Ofbunkyandbobban: I’ll have to corroborate that with the president of my fan club. Now if you’ll excuse me…