What’s in a name? Keralites will tell you

Remember to insert an H when you address our Seetha aur Geetha. (Representational image: Jithin Murali via Pexels)

As a state Kerala may be in the news for a number of reasons. The ubiquitous mention is the 100 percent literacy rate. Then there is the tourism angle: the boat races, the Onam sadhya, the Thrissur pooram. A steady stream of political scandals is another milestone, some starring women, like Swapna Suresh and Saritha Nair. Of late there are also the films, some of which have caught international attention, with actors like Fahadh Faasil and Dulquer Salmaan hugely popular across India.

If the latest headlines are taken into account, no two murders here are the same – from a Jolly Joseph who used cyanide as a spice and allegedly bumped off kith and kin in no particular order, to the ritualistic mumbo jumbo in an inconspicuous neighbourhood that led to at least two human sacrifices.

Then there are the stereotypes that we are brainy because we eat fish, that we have thick black curly hair because we drink coconut oil instead of water. It is alleged that Mallus are just everywhere; when Neil Armstrong landed on the moon, there was a Mallu selling tea right there! All Mallus are not nurses but all nurses are taken for Mallus. Our toddy shops and the shaap cuisine is legend too.

Now we come to another stock characteristic, but no less spectacular: are Keralites distinguishable purely by their names when compared to non-Keralites? Names here often sound like a random coming together of consonants, but we Mallus have taken it in our stride because, you see, we are cool that way.

Siblings could be arranged in a quick rhyming order: Shiji, Riji, Liji, Biji. Titus is called Titty for short and Baby is your bald middle-aged uncle. There’s bound to be Tenny and a Linny, a Bincy and a Lincy. Saji and Shaji abound as do Byju and Biju.

There was a time you could throw one letter of the alphabet at a healthy couple of reproductive age, like say a J, and you’d get babies called Jijo, Jiji, Jiju, Joji, Jomy in return. Those were the good old days of an entire generation named by combining their parents’ names – Renny + Luke = Ruke or Lenny. And these incomprehensible and sometimes unpronounceable names are worn around the neck in lockets of gold, which is the Mallu metal of choice.

In place of the ubiquitous Bittu or Pappu, Guddi or Dolly from the North, we flaunt many versions of ‘son’ or ‘daughter’ as legitimate names: Monu, Molu, Kunjumol, Kunjumon, Marykutty, Omanakuttan. An ‘aama’ at the end is routine, like Reetaama and Sallyaama. Molamma literally translates into daughter-mother. We also happily take surnames from other regions as first name, like Roy or Bose.

Remember to insert an H when you address our Seetha aur Geetha. And just in case you run into a Gifty, Blessy, Nicey or Smiley, please don’t act all judgmental because then we’d just have to call you Judgy.