Why Stick to Nicknames?

Image Source: www.momsmiami.com

When you are a child one thing that tags along is your nickname being called by your parents. And I was myself a victim to it, which I hated badly, especially when being called so with people around.

I remember once during Halley’s Comet 1986 apparition, my dad coined my name as Halley! I was called so every time everywhere even when it was embarrassing for me as everyone would look at me and then up in the sky as if I were that comet having landed on earth!

My craze for mangoes meant another pet name for me. My mom and dad came up with a name called, ‘Amu’ from ‘Aam’ (Hindi of Mango), and it went well with my name, but I hated it. This went on for many years as I was determined not to leave mangoes and they were not ready not to call me by that name, as for them it was cute well suiting their cute child, who was none other than me.

One name I just hated was when some of my friends started calling me ‘Papita’ (papaya) when I was asked by them to remove papayas from a tree because of my tall height. It remained confined to my friends circle as I never wanted my parents to know that their son was being called by the name of a fruit, which they love so much.

I don’t remember any other names which I came across being a child, but yes even now I hate parents having pet names for their children. In the process their original names are lost and are just confined to school records.

And today I am happy I am called by my real name because that’s what I am. But for my elder sister the trauma continues. She is still called ‘Baby’, which I wonder how it came into being, but now in her forties she is still a baby for my parents who I am sure must have forgotten how to pronounce her real name, which they haven’t ever spoken for all these years!