what's in a name?

A well meaning friend has warned me against using real names in virtual space. It was a very reasonable piece of advice. In the current world of Orkut-stalking and identity theft, it makes so much sense to be anonymous.

I remember when I came across the word for the first time. I was about five. During Pujo in my grandparent’s house in Kalyani. Kalyani then was a well known university town. Though the university still remains, the socio-demographic character of the town has gone through a makeover and the town has lost some of its former glory. Back then, you can imagine that the town had a favorable ratio of pseudo-intellectuals with the demography ruled by either students or retired pensioners. Now, both these groups were the flag bearers of moral, intellectual and cultural values that ‘bengaleeism’ is all about. So you could see its impressions all over town. Not surprisingly when my uncle, then a university undergrad, had formed a students’ association he chose to call it “Anonymous”. I believe it had a lot to do with escaping from libel suits cause they were notorious in a robinhoodish way. Their productive work was limited to the celebration of Durga Pujo through public fundraising. The rest of the year, the club members whiled away their time sitting around a bedraggled tea stall debating various issues from across the world and drinking endless cups of tea on credit. One thing you have to give to a bengalee is that he has an opinion on everything under the universe and that no two bengalees worth his fish fries would hold the same opinion. However, the jewel in the otherwise tarnished crown for this Club was the Durga Pujo which the members celebrated in a befitting manner making up for all the angst they have cause their families and neighbours around the year. It was there, while visiting the ‘pandal’ that I came across the word ‘anonymous’ for the pujo pandal was known as “Anonymous er Pujo”. When I asked my uncle’s friend Ajitkaku what it means, being a stanch communist, he told me it means ‘the nameless crowd who struggles to survive’. This absolutely didn’t make any sense to me for as far as I were concerned, everyone I knew, struggling or otherwise, had a legitimate name, including my uncle’s dog Kalia.

It was much later in school that I understood the true meaning but the thought of being ‘the nameless one’ always made me uncomfortable. To the extent that I have put my name in bold even on secret ballot and on unreciprocated love notes in college and university. The narcissist in me wants the world to know what I think and feel. Pardon me, therefore, anonymous I shall never be...