What’s in a Name?

 What’s in a name?

Lately there has been a debate over the proposed name change of the medical school I attended in Mumbai. A large number of alumni are opposed to this decision. The original name King Edward Memorial Hospital was given after a grant of 7000 pounds by a memorial fund named after the British monarch. The thought in present times is to move away from anything that has traces of colonialism. India wants to assert its own identity in the independent era. The old students who associate themselves with the institution are resistant to the idea because they see the institution and its name as inseparable. 

Mind was running over the larger issue of a name.

Recently we lost one of the beloved singers of India, Smt Asha Bhonsle. She was the daughter of renowned singer Pandit Deenanath Mangeshkar. As a teenager she eloped with a man nearly twenty years older than her and adopted his family name. 2 kids later and with a third on the way she separated from him due to harassment. She rejoined her siblings and continued her independent career as a playback singer. While her brother and two sisters retained their family name Mangeshkar, she went on through her entire career using the Bhonsle last name and so did her kids. Her first husband Mr Bhonsle was out of the picture for as long as her audience remembers. Her siblings were illustrious in their own way. Despite this, she created a niche for herself, without the husband and without the more illustrious name of her own birth family. It was sheer determination, hard work and a God given talent that stood for 92 glorious years giving the world a treat of vocal versatility that is rare. In her interviews she acknowledges the influence of her father and his music, on her journey. She never shies away from talking about the close relationships she nurtured with her siblings and mother. But her success was entirely hers to claim without her family. 

Perhaps whoever reads this blog is well aware that this space tends to see the world, literature, music and life through the lens of Vedanta. The writing practice has been instrumental in bringing more clarity to the thought process over time. In recent days the thought that has come to mind is about using the word “I” and also “my” casually as before. Although they do not necessarily emphasize what they are referring to in terms of identity and ownership, it is perhaps time to eliminate their usage in the writings. Ultimately the direction is to lift the attention from physical identity and thought itself. 

It is interesting how names assume so much importance in our transactional lives. Think about it. Each of us is born without a name. Pristine. Complete in oneself. And then the rest of the world assigns a name. For their convenience, so they can refer to us. And we start owning that name. We make it our identity. We associate our pride, our talent, our achievements with that name. For successful individuals, that name becomes a source of additional privileges, influence, power and wealth. All of these advantages are pertinent and applicable in the physical world. 

On the flip side, they behave like invasive roots that dig deeper and deeper with time into the physical world. For those who only know this one existence and wish to live and die here, it’s not a problem. The problem is for those who wish to disengage from the physical existence and release themselves into a spiritual reality. For them, the name assigned to a finite physical form becomes a hindrance. To respond to that name becomes a matter of internal conflict. Casual terms like I, me and my become inappropriate and impertinent. 

A great importance is given in the spiritual literature to the Name of God. It is cited as one of the simplest ways to realize God. There is perfect logic behind this. Name is just a word. A tool that designates an object or an idea. Just like our given name designates us, it is not us, it cannot be us as we didn’t have the name when we were born. The name has come after we appeared. It is a mere tool for recognition. The same applies for the name of God. In fact God is also just a term, a tool to refer to that which otherwise can’t be seen or perceived by ordinary perception mechanisms. But  when one has the understanding about what it stands for, repeated use that term helps to divert our attention and thought to that subtlest of subtle entities. 

Once you recognize the entity that the Name serves to identify, the name is useless! Once you know what the sun is, whether you call it Sun or Surya or Ravi or Aditya or whatever you fancy, it doesn’t matter. Whether you call it anything at all is immaterial. Knowing is what counts. 

The conclusion of Vedanta is that each individual is nothing but essentially God. In their manifest form they are a finite manifestation but in their natural state they are the indivisible, eternal principle that we know as God or Parmatma or Brahman. A Vedantin must at some point dis-identify from the finite identity and learn to abide in the natural state. That state really has no name, no form, no attributes. Whatever name, form, attributes are noticeable to others even regards to the Vedantin, belong to the domain of Prakriti, the manifest portion of Brahman. 

The closer you observe Prakriti, it is a composite of both perfection and imperfection. Take a branch of a tree. The leaves are not going to be all equal and symmetrical. Take a flower. Not all petals will be placed in perfect order. Take any person. Their mood is not going to be at its best at every moment on every single day. Disorder is part of the order in the manifest universe. The degree of disorder and order is a function of time and space. Order or disorder, neither of it touches the natural unmanifest state. Time and Space do not touch it. 

Things are different in the physical world. There is an inherent tendency for domination as well as resisting domination. Each entity inherently has a right to freedom.  The name becomes important in the assertion of freedom. But freedom entails greater responsibility. Name carries a liability. 

The point regarding renaming institutions in India to assert Indian identity is perfectly valid. But the leaders initiating these changes must be able to articulate their understanding of the responsibility and liability that accompanies the name change. They must be sworn in with their statements acknowledging that they recognize these responsibilities as they implement the change. Without this, the initiatives are irresponsible and immature and can be considered unnecessary and even detrimental. An institution like KEM has a legacy it has created on its own , irrespective of the name it was tagged with at the time of inception. If the new name cannot add value to that legacy or at bare minimum maintain the same legacy, it would be great misfortune and injustice to the institution as well as to the national name. The idea of tagging it with a meaningless and fake national identity and stripping it of its accrued independent value and legitimacy would do more harm than any good. History is not just about the colonialism. History also entails the institution’s own legacy. The decision to change the name ought to take into consideration both aspects of history. And precisely therefore needs to be at least deferred until it is no longer half baked. Those who want to implement the name change must be willing to take responsibility for the continuation of the legacy and adding value to it. Or then do not mess with it. Respect the independence of the institution. 

The easier part:

You can give something a name.

You can change a name. 

You can spoil a name. 

You can call names.

The not so easy part:

You can make a name. 

You can live up to a name. 

The less considered part:

You can be who you are without a name. 

The million dollar question:

What’s in a name?