By Aditi Mahajan

 

My name has always been an insecurity of mine. Aditi means, in Hindi, a person who has no boundaries (too accurate), and is a name that when pronounced properly, is actually really pretty. But rarely is it ever pronounced properly. To have a name that is easy to pronounce is a ridiculously overlooked cheat code in feeling comfortable in conversations. I hate introducing myself to new non-Indian people because I already know I’ll have to repeat myself three or four times just to be called adeedee. If I meet anyone in a place where there is any sort of background noise I know it's a lost cause. I know that they’ll fumble over the letters and then make a comment about how hard it is to pronounce but it's so beautiful and exotic! I’ve been asked so many times if I had an easier nickname, if there was something else that people could call me and for many years I offered nicknames, allowed mispronunciations, and just brushed it all off. 

 

I can't explain how many hours of my life I’ve wasted spending time wishing my name was Maya, or Alisha, or some other Indo-western name that rolled off of people's tongues easier than the soft th and dh sounds that peppered mine. And then when I lived in Seattle, on the first day of work, I met a girl named Gabby, and Gabby attempted my name, mispronounced it, and then asked if she got it right. I laughed it off, said no, but that it was okay anyways. And then Gabby, in the first of so many instances where I got to bear witness of her radiating thoughtfulness to the people around her, said it actually wasn’t okay, that my name was my identity, and that she was going to practice it and never mess it up again. And 3 years of friendship later, she never did. 

 

And this raised the bar for friendship for me. She was right. My name was my identity. Names shape who you are. A name is used to identify who you are and communicate with you on a daily basis and so it's no surprise that names create the very basis of self conception especially in relation to others. And as someone who grew up hating her name, I saw how it brought me down. 

 

No longer was I willing to settle for people calling me mediocre imitations of the name I was given because my name was more than just a word in a foreign language, it was my identity, it was my history, and to be called it, with the thought and care it takes to say it properly is a sign of love and respect. The name Aditi has a history, a rich one, that dates back thousands of years. Derived from Sanskrit, Aditi means free or unfettered and embodies the essence of the Earth Mother. In Hindu mythology, Aditi is revered as a primordial goddess, the mother of the universe and all celestial entities. To learn this history, to feel connected with the roots of my name, gave me peace. Learning how to respect my own name allowed me to demand that respect from others. It felt more bearable when groups of people stumbled over the softer letters, when people looked at me with utter confusion, or when reading my name from a paper just paused and waited for me to pronounce it myself. My name, my identity, has a history deeper and richer than I had ever known and to embrace that history, to embrace the pronunciation, and to embrace my name liberated me in ways I didn't know were possible. 

 

And so now when I introduce myself, if (and when) my name is mispronounced, I smile and repeat it again (and again and again and again) because my name is mine, to claim, to respect, and to demand respect from others. 

 

About the Author: Aditi Mahajan is currently a medical student, and loves to channel her other side through writing, reading, a long run, and spending time learning about the world around her.

Kaju Studios