Monday, Nov 15, 1999
 Layers Of Names
- Ashini J Desai Professionally, Ashini is an application developer for a consulting firm. At heart, she is also an aspiring writer who has been published in "Shakti Kee Awaaz", an anthology of short stories and poems published by a Canadian women's organization. Additionally, she has published essays, book reviews and poetry on various internet sites. We welcome Ashini into the Sawf fold. A word of caution, Ashini does not like being called Mrs. Desai! |
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When I was young, I often heard my mother introduce herself by her maiden name, although she was officially Mrs. Jani. I never understood why and wanted to tell her she's Jani now and her maiden name doesn't matter. How wrong I was!
I met my prince and was ready for my perfect future. Sure, I'll change my name, just a minor switching of words. Everybody does it. However, no one told me what it would truly mean. I look at my new name and see the layers of my life and who I am.
First, whenever I write my new name, I wait for someone to charge me with fraud. I feel like an imposter. Is this what Superman felt every time he signed Clark Kent on a credit card slip? How will I fit into this? I'm not protesting the adjunction of Desai to my name. I see the name my husband wore for years and now shares with me; we're like a team. I see his family and know I am part of their history and their future. In this name is my life yet to be. As romantic and exciting as it is, I did request my personal network directory at the office be changed from "Desai_A" to "Ashini," simply because I did not recognize my name and could not find my files.
Ashini Jani is the name on my school programs, first driver's license, diplomas, and other printed accomplishments. I want to shout out, "That's still me! I'm still here!" All that remains now is a "J." to remind me. And woe is the person who dares to print my business cards without the "J."! By the way, this name confused many teachers, sales clerks, and direct mail vendors. No, it's not my first name. I feel odd not having to correct anyone. Though now my challenge is to convince people I am not related to any other Desai with whom they happen to work.
When I am introduced to a new colleague, I feel a bit remorse. I used to be Jani. Yes, I am the oldest Jani girl. We were the Jani 5, as announced on our license plate. We were five banded against the world. There is a twinge of nostalgia, guilt, and envy when I know my family members are allowed to be Jani. This name also connects me to a loud and loving clan thousands of miles away. The whole neighborhood in India knows me because I'm Sudhanlal Jani's oldest son's daughter. We're linked by blood and family stories; the name is just the surface.
Yet, when I see "Ashini," there's a girl with short hair, gold hoop earrings and a yellow No.2 pencil spelling her first word. She chews on her bottom lip while printing straight lines to slant and meet at the tip of the "A." This name led sentences on report cards that said she was a good and friendly student, but did not apply herself enough. White library cards had "Ashini" in a librarian's neat handwriting, while the girl waited in quiet anticipation, holding an unwieldy stack of books. "Ashini" is the name printed on pastel birthday and Christmas cards, attached to a mysterious gift box.
This is the name I am greeted by when friends call to ask for me. This name intrigued my husband enough to meet me on our blind date. This name returns me to playgrounds, college dining halls, graduation auditoriums, and department stores, when my frantic parents shouted my name.
The best part is that "Ashini" doesn't belong to any family lineage. It's just for me
Till we Connect again next week...
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