NAME-Place-Animal-Thing: Savvy Soumya Misra
In case you were wondering what my name is—is it all of it or one of it or any two—now is the time to let you know.
Physiotherapist: Aapka naam kya hai? (What is your name?)
Me: Savvy
Physiotherapist: Aapka asli naam kya hai? (What is your real name?)
The thing about my name is that no one gets it for what it actually is. Actually no one believes it can be a name!
NO. It is NOT the short for Savitri.
A classmate of eight years thought it was Saavi; it means ‘key’ in Tamil. She was a Tamilian.
I let my Odia accounts teacher call me Sabhi. Mr Puranjoy Shaw’s P’s were F’s, so getting him to pronounce my name accurately was going to be an uphill task.
I was Saamya bete to an elderly Muslim professor in Jamshedpur.
Shomo to Bengalis. Friends who wanted to rile me up and bong colleagues who thought it cannot be pronounced otherwise. Like they called dibs on Soumya, hence Shomo.
Savya to a Gujju jeweller. Once when he attempted my full name, he said Savya Sami.
Sabby to my first boss in TV— Rajdeep Sardesai.
A photographer friend of mine, with who I did a couple of assignments for long stretches of time, sent a postcard from Austria addressed to Savvy Sowmya Swaminathan. She genuinely believed that was my name! “What? You are not Swaminathan? You look like a Swaminathan”.
When you can’t do anything, you adapt. And I must admit, I used the different versions of my name during reporting days.
I became Sowmya while reporting in the southern states (accentuating the O and U). I even threw in a few lines “Saar, Tamil teriada Saar.”
The stress on the Mishra in the cow belt made me Mishra ji. On one of the trips to Sonbhadra, after having spent 3 days reporting, I was asked on the third day “Madam ji aapka naam kya hai? Humlog to Mishra ji se hi kaam chala liye.” (What is your name. We made do with Mishra ji only). Now this is after my marriage.
At The Telegraph office, I did regular follow ups with police stations and fire stations. One of the officers from the fire station called on the office landline “Sandhya ji se baat ho sakti hai?” (Can I speak to Sandhya ji?). I was immediately called to the phone. I even responded to Sandhya if it got me the story!
Whenever I whined about my name, dad always said, “Betaaa, no one will forget your name”. And I always replied “Sure, if someone gets it the first place”.
On one such occasion he tried to prove how I was making a big deal about the name. We were at the hospital registration counter. I was standing next to him, when he began the registration process with some flourish.
Girl: Name
Dad: Savvy Soumya
Girl looks up. Bewildered. Dad looks at me. I smile. I grin.
Dad: Savvy. S-A-V-V-Y.
Girl: B-B.
Dad: V-V.
Girl: Ok. Got it. Savvya Soumi.
Dad losing it by now but trying to put up a brave face.
Dad (LOUDER and s-l-o-w-l-y): S A V V Y S O U M Y A.
He looked at me and conceded defeat. I patted him and told him, “Pappa, I love my name. She won’t forget it now”.
A dialogue that springs every time I have to tell my name is from the Guy Ritchie movie Snatch.
Avi: Should I call you Bullet? Tooth?
Bullet Tooth Tony: You can call me Susan if it makes you happy.
I also must admit that in vindictive moments, growing up, I wanted to name my child Mrichchhakatika.
I have spent a large chunk of my life and the first 2-3 minutes of every conversation explaining its origin, meaning and spelling.
“Dad liked Savvy (from the magazine)—mum wanted Soumya—they didn’t reach a consensus—so here I am—Savvy, from that magazine, you know—it means intelligent—Soumya mean sober—I am neither—ha ha ha—It is spelt S-A-V-V-Y-S-O-U-M-Y-A”.
When I got married, I thought this is my one chance to make life simpler. So, I added Udit’s surname to my name to make life simpler.
Far from it. As it turned out he is a Misra, without an H.
Now I end up spelling three names. S-A-V-V-Y-S-O-U-M-Y-A-M-I-S-R-A.
It was on two occasions during the Ochre Sky Writing Workshop that I wrote versions of this story. My name, as you can see, has haunted me and this was my moment to clear my name, so to speak! Thanks
You are saved on my phone as Savvy Southampton Misra. I cannot remember how or why I christened you Southampton (maybe autocorrect), but after reading this, it clearly fits. :)
I just thought you used savvy as a descriptor and your name is Soumya. 💀😆