What’s in a Baby Name – Gunga Din to Rakesh

The Times of India is a good solid newspaper. I have pointed out earlier too (for example about man-bags here) that The Times can always be depended to keep us abreast of all the breaking news and an analysis in depth of events that shake humankind; a baby name for example.

The newspaper in November 2025 for example, rightly ignoring inconsequential happenings like the Bihar elections and Sheikh Hasina’s sham trial, told us gushingly that actor Parineeti Chopra had not only been blessed with a kid, but also illuminated us with the baby’s name (Neer), its meaning and (hold your breath) a photograph of the child’s feet. (The inquisitive can read all about it here.)

Well, no one took photographs of MY feet, but I narrowly escaped being named Gunga Din.

January 1966. Indira Gandhi became Prime Minister of our country. A pivotal moment, extensively covered by the Times of India. Later that year, in October 1966 to be precise, and in a slightly less epochal happening, the world was blessed with my birth.  (My mother, not being the Parineeti Chopra equivalent of the 60s, TOI ignored the event altogether.)

As was the norm those days, my father took the day old me to my grandfather and proudly announced – “Father, a son!” My grandfather, without wasting a moment, raised me aloft like Mufasa did Simba, and announced, “Gunga Din!” It is to my great fortune that in a moment of stunning defiance, my parents deemed Gunga Din too audacious a baby name. I was named Rakesh instead. Whew!

The point I am making in my convoluted way is that choosing a baby name those days was simple. One didn’t crawl the internet, or buy baby name books, or tear one’s hair seeking something unique. Parents got to choose from a list of 8-10 names; mostly ending with ‘-esh’ – Rakesh, Rajesh, Suresh, Vinesh. Or some other one/two syllable names like Ajay, Vijay, Anil, Sunil.

Girls similarly were Rani, Sita or Gita. Occasionally a name honouring one’s grandparents was chosen; mostly out of obligation. Overall, however, simple modest baby names for babies who would go on to lead simple modest middle-class lives, was the norm.

The Punjabis though, always inclined to be different, found even this too tedious and chose unisex names ending with ‘inder’, ‘jeet’, or ‘jot’ and stuck a Singh or Kaur to differentiate boys from girls. So far so good. It does have a downside, though. What happens if you are invited to your boss’s child, Kulwinder’s birthday party? Should you go with a toy Spiderman or a Barbie?

Nicknames too were simply a function of one’s appearance (and no one cared about vague things like body shaming) and/or predilections:-

Dark skinned      –            Kaloo

Fat                       –            Fatso/Motu

Narrow eyed      –           Chinki

Dimwitted          –           Tubelight

Spectacled         –           Chasmish

Short                   –            Chotu (and lambu if you are tall)

Punjabis of course, again struck out defiantly. And to illustrate this point, just let me reproduce an oft repeated joke…

A teacher in a school in Punjab asked all kids to sing “If you are happy and you know it clap your hands”.  Only three kids however, clapped their hands. Why? Because the rest were Sunny, Lucky, Pinky, Dolly, Honey, Bunny, Guddi, Sweety… My point? Punjabis don’t waste time having separate proper names and nicknames.  Morning roll calls in schools in Punjab thus, can be a bit mystifying. 

Life was overall, easy for parents. Then came Bob Dylan and he told us that “Times they are A-Changin”. Or maybe it was Mrs Maneka Gandhi to blame. She published a tome with thousands of suggested baby names, duly cross referenced, and life was never the same since.

That ladies and gentlemen, is how we landed up in the current mess. Parents started agonising. They started seeking baby names that stood out. Or names that could be uttered only by twisting the tongue into a jalebi. Naming children nowadays (and I, like the ToI, have given this deep thought), involves some combination of the following:-

• Family astrologers (read uncles who were old when Salma Sultan still read the news) start suggesting that since Saturn is having a fisticuff with Betelgeuse, the baby name should start with Gug. “The name Guggamshivam (not found in Mrs MG’s book) will help overcome all hurdles”, they add sagely.   
• Grandparents want a baby name that reflects Indian roots and will find great joy in naming you after some character who lived in 1500 BC. They particularly like Bhaktavatsalam,  Satyanarayana, Devastuti and some such.
• Moms want something that is modern and yet deep in meaning. Gajagamini, meaning walking like an elephant (they walk daintily apparently) you will agree just doesn’t have that modern zing.
• Dimpy Auntie (all families have one such Auntie) suggests naming the kid after her Pomeranian, Chewy. Apparently, the name is just right due to many similarities between the two. It becomes difficult to ignore her suggestion, as she is quick to take umbrage at her views not being respected.
• Then there are parents who feel the name should be a synthesis of both their names. Like Virushka or Saifeena. Or, Rakesinda (That my wife’s name ends with inda is only a coincidence.)
• Ultimately everyone will compromise and the kid will be named such that she will not be able to write or pronounce her name till her eighth grade.
• Whatever you do however, Old Uncle will still stand his ground stubbornly till it is agreed, as a concession, that the chosen name Kavya will be spelt Kaavyaaha.

None can compete of course with celebrity kids. And here I draw your attention once again to the ToI, which has covered this fascinating topic extensively in the past. This article for example, is a typical deep dive by ToI into the subject.

My own research tells me that celebrities, in keeping with their status above the hoi polloi, can’t be called Rakesh, Gunga Din or Gappu. They go for:-

Abram                –             Here, ram is not equal to goat. Hence, Abram is not AB’s goat.

Nysa                    –            Named after a cosmetic brand is my guess.

Aaradhaya         –            Is it a Beauty salon? Is it a Building name?

Viaan                  –           No, not a car showroom.

Riyan                  –             The sequel of Azaan. And coming soon Ayaan.

Klin Kara             –             Umm… You’ve got me. Maybe Swahili for ‘wadda hell?’

Sivathmika         –             A goddess? An Ayurvedic shampoo?

Aadvik                –             Means unique. Don’t confuse with Aardvark – a pig faced animal.

Say what you will, I love the above names. And unlike Western celebrities, they sound lyrical and actually have meanings. The Westerners go with vehicles (Mercedes), months of the year (June, April), seasons (Summer, Winter) and some names like  North West, Kyd, Rocket Zot, Jermajesty which collectively mean I assume, “To Hell With It”.

What then is in a baby name you ask? Everything. Astrology, heritage and cruelty. And if people still don’t get it, introduce them to my neighbour’s sixth grade kid who has just learnt how to spell her name. Apparently it is spelt Triptiyassasvi. (And pronounced as Sushma.) In the final analysis however, whether you name your kid Hrehaan, or Arik, or even Gunga Din, the old Uncle will insist on calling him Chintu.

And finally dear Reader, if reading this made you smile, please forward it to two friends who take life too seriously.