Last week, I rejected a friend request on Facebook because the name didn't hit any bell. Lo and behold, a day or two later, I get a personal message unveiling the true identity. Fake account? Nah! What could be the other possibility?
About a year ago, one of my college mates decided to take the plunge into marriage. A typical Maharashtrian girl with a love for her family that knew no bounds. Post getting her graduation degree, she decided to tie the knot – typical her! Soon after, she flew off to Dubai with her husband, and that was pretty much the end of our communication.
Now, on Facebook, I'm staring at her name like it's some kind of puzzling riddle. What made her change her name, I wonder? Ah, Maharashtrian traditions, the eternal head-scratcher. Apparently, when a girl gets married, the husband gets to play the name-change card. But seriously, who follows this today? Forget keeping her maiden name; she might not even get a chance to keep her identity!
Couldn't help but laugh at this whole sitcom-worthy situation.
This whole episode took me back to my childhood when I was a little bookworm learning to read newspapers. What amused me the most? Those 'Name Changing Advertorials' in regional newspapers and TOI. Always looked forward to them; they left me entertained and bewildered. Bewildered because I couldn't fathom why people would give up their names. I didn't get it then, and I still don't. The answers I got back then just fueled my curiosity.
So, what about my dear friend who was once fiercely protective of her identity? Is convention more important than individuality? I mean really?
I cherish my name even more.
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