Four days before her daughter Shalini’s wedding. Susan looked around the room. Almost everybody was here. Her parents from India. Her brother, sister-in-law, nephew, and grandnephew from New Jersey. Her husband Joe’s sister and her twenty-something daughter from Toronto. Joe’s older brother, his wife and their adult son, all the way from India. Animated chatter filled the air, as relatives caught up with each other’s news.
“So, Chacko, how’s your business doing?” Susan’s dad turned to Joe’s brother, who was sitting on the couch with his son.
“It’s going well, Babychayan[1], all things considered.”
“Appa’s the ultimate optimist.” The young man put down his drink and joined the conversation. “What about the strike we had last month?”
Chacko looked at his son with a resigned smile. “Kunjumon is my right-hand man and my conscience.”
“Ammachy! Ammachy! Shalu-chechi’s[2] chasing me!” Susan’s grandnephew ran up to his great-grandmother, the bride-to-be close on his heels. The grey-haired matriarch put a protective arm around the eight-year-old and looked up fondly at the young woman. “Shalu-molay[3], you’re getting married, but you’re still a child at heart.”
Shalu-chechi. Chacko. Kunjumon. Babychayan. Ammachy. Susan’s head began to spin. How would Adrian’s family be able to remember these names? She had better get her relatives to put in some practice in using their Christian names at the wedding. Here in North America, most Syrian Christians from Kerala India used their Christian names outside of the family, so they could do the same now. It would save a lot of confusion – and possible discomfort, even unkind teasing, at the unfamiliar names. Marrying into another culture was all very well, and the two families had welcomed each other with genuine warmth. Why have her daughter’s in-laws struggle with tongue-twisters?
Susan frowned as she thought back to last week. Shalini’s best friend had organized a bridal shower and had invited a couple of Susan’s Indian friends. Meena and Anita had known her daughter from the day she was born, and Shalini was very fond of them. They were used to calling her ‘Shalu’. But that sounded too much like ‘Shallow’. Besides, none of her daughter’s friends knew her as Shalini, let alone Shalu. Her Christian name was Rebecca. Becky.
“Please refer to Shalu as Becky. That’s how her friends know her. And remember I’m Susan, not Achi.” Susan had said this at least two times to Meena and Anita. Yet, at the shower when they were asked to talk about how they knew Shalini, Meena had remembered, but Anita hadn’t.
“I’ve known Shalu since she was in diapers, she was such a cute baby,” Anita’s eyes had glazed over as she went back thirty years. “Shalu had the chubbiest cheeks then. Look at her now, so slim and beautiful.”
Susan had had to stare pointedly at her friend for one full minute before she caught Anita’s eye. “Oops, sorry, I mean Becky …”
Everyone had laughed. Some of the young women had looked at each other knowingly. Susan had been mortified. She worried that they would use this to tease Shalini. She wanted nothing to mar her daughter’s happiness.
No, nothing should come in the way of Shalini’s happiness. Especially not something that emphasized differences in cultures, like strange names. She had better make sure of it. Susan cleared her throat.
“Hey everybody, listen.” Susan paused to give her family time to finish their conversations. A few chattered on obliviously, but the others looked up expectantly.
“What’s up, Achi?”
Susan gave her mother an exasperated look. “Amma, please call me Susan. Why did you ever give me a name like ‘Achi’? Was I sneezing all the time?”
“That’s a good one, Achi, Achi, Atchoo, Achi, Atchoo.” Her brother couldn’t resist responding. Everyone burst out laughing.
“Molay[4], Achi is a form of Susan, in our language,” Susan’s mother attempted to explain.
“Mother, we are speaking English. In Canada.” Susan shook her head at her mother and turned back to the others.
“Guys, please be serious. Adrian is a wonderful person, used to our family by now, and has a very mixed group of friends. But his family and relatives are not familiar with our culture. Let’s make it easy for them to talk to us. After all, we do have ‘Christian’ names, so could we please use those during the wedding? At least when we are at the main events?”
Joe’s sister attempted to rescue Susan. “Okay, people, let’s practice using our Christian names.” She looked across the room to Susan’s brother. “So, Alex, did you have a comfortable flight from New York?”
“Are you talking to me?” Alex looked puzzled.
“Yes, Achacha[5], she’s talking to you. You’re Alexander, aren’t you?” Susan’s impatience was evident.
“I suppose I am Alex, in the office I am ‘Alex’ for sure. Here too?” Everyone guffawed, as Alex sheepishly responded to Joe’s sister. “Thank you, Eliamma, I had a good flight, but am a little jet-lagged still.”
Susan had to correct him again. “Not Eliamma, she’s Elizabeth. Please remember.”
“Call me Liz, I’m used to that back home in Toronto.”
“Elizabeth. Liz. I’ll have to practice that all night,” Alex sighed.
An amused smile spread over Joe’s brother’s face. He turned to Susan’s father. “Babychayan, what can we call you?”
“Well, my official name is Yohan.”
“Okay, so you’re ‘John Uncle’,” Chacko concluded.
Susan cut in. “’Uncle John’ would be more appropriate, that’s how they say it here.”
“I’d almost forgotten that my name is John. Hope I remember that I’m Uncle John.”
Joe’s niece looked up from her iPhone. “Uncle John, why are you called Baby-chayan?”
“I was the youngest of six children, so I was Baby. The name stuck, and I got used to being called Baby.”
“Even when you grew up? That’s kind of weird.” Joe’s niece tossed her head and leaned forward.
“Rahail, ‘Baby’ is a common name back in Kerala,” Susan’s mother tried to clarify. “Besides, in Malayalam[6], nobody cares about the English meaning of the word.”
“Who’s Rahail?” Joe’s niece was genuinely foxed.
“That’s you, Rachel,” her mother said.
“Mom, it’s Rach. You should know that.” Rachel looked around the room. “Everyone, please call me Rach.” She rolled her eyes and went back to gazing at her iPhone.
Susan’s grandnephew‘s eyes lit up. “I have a Rachel in my class, and everyone calls her Rach.” He had a question, too. “What is Ammachy’s name?”
His mother hastily answered, before her mother-in-law could possibly be insulted. “Aaron, Ammachy is Ammachy. She’s your great-grandmother.”
“So is Ammachy my Granny? That’s what everyone at school calls their grandmas.”
Susan looked at the little boy with relief. At least he got it right. “Good boy! You’ve got it. Please call your Ammachy ‘Granny’.”
Aaron looked accusingly at his mother. “But Mommy, you said I should always call Ammachy ‘Ammachy’.”
“You call her Granny while you’re here, okay?” Susan quickly interjected, and continued before anyone else went off at a tangent. She looked up at her family. “Let’s all of us practice using our Christian names.” She paused, and her eyes twinkled as she thought of something. “I know, let’s play the Name Game.”
“What’s that? Can we go around accusing each other of anything?”
Susan looked at Joe’s nephew in disgust. “It’s not a blame game, it’s a name game. I’m trying to achieve something here, Suresh. I mean, Mathew.”
She glared in the direction of giggles from the couch and began again. “Let’s play a game that will help us remember everyone’s Christian names. It’s in a couple of rounds. First round, each person says their own Christian name. Second round, each person says their own Christian name, then that of the person on their right, and that of the person on their left. For example, my name is Susan, and on my right is Mary, and on my left is Uncle John. Got it?”
Mathew attempted to salvage himself. “Sounds like fun! Let’s do it.” Amid much laughter, the game proceeded.
#
The wedding ceremony went off smoothly. Even little Aaron was perfect in his role as ring-bearer, walking up the aisle with serious concentration. Becky was so beautiful! Susan’s eyes brimmed with joyful tears as she looked at her daughter, whose face shone with happiness. Now they were seated at the reception, and it was time for a speech from the father of the bride.
“I’m a little nervous, Sue.” Joe whispered. Susan patted her husband’s hand. “You’ll be fine, dear. Just remember to use everyone’s Christian names.” And then he was at the podium, clearing his throat.
“Good evening everyone.” The hum of conversation died down, and all eyes were on Joe. He gripped the sides of the lectern with both hands. “ Today has been one of the happiest days of my life. My baby, my darling daughter, is starting a new life with a most wonderful man. Susan and I couldn’t have got a better husband for our dearest Shalu … Becky … for our daughter.” He paused, as a smatter of snickering came from the far end of the hall. Susan threw a warning look towards where Becky’s friends were seated. Thankfully, nobody else paid any attention. All eyes remained on Joe, who was focused on what he had to say.
“I want to thank all who have come from near and far. Let me start from those who have travelled twenty-four hours to be here. My in-laws, Babychayan and …” He stopped mid-sentence, as he felt Susan’s eyes boring into his back. “I mean, Uncle John and Aunt Grace, all the way from Kerala in India. Then, my older brother Jacob, his wife Lydia, and their son Philip have come from Bangalore. “
At a table in the middle of the hall, a puzzled Anita turned to Meena. “I didn’t know Joe had a brother called Jacob. The one I’ve heard about is Chacko.”
“Shhh. Chacko’s official name is Jacob. Chacko’s what he’s called at home.” Meena indicated that they should talk in whispers, if at all.
Joe continued his speech. “I want to especially thank Alex and family for coming one week early, and helping out with the arrangements.”
Anita’s puzzled frown deepened. “Who the heck is Alex?”
Meena gave her friend a look of amusement, and whispered, “That’s Susan’s brother Chandy. From New Jersey.”
“Chandy? I know Chandy, he’s visited Susan a couple of times. Is his name Alex? It’s all very confusing. I give up.” She shook her head and leaned back into her chair. Why didn’t these people have just one name that everyone knew them by? What’s in a name, after all?
2017
[1] achayan = uncle (Baby {name of the person} + achayan = Babychayan)
[2] chechi = big sister
[3] molay = daughter
[4] molay = daughter
[5] achacha = big brother
[6] Malayalam is the language of Kerala, India.