A kid’s question - What is your title?

    09-Nov-2024
|

article
S Balakrishnan
‘Uncle, what is your title?’ I was jerked by this question; more so as this came from a little boy of 8-9 years. I was chit chatting with a naughty gang of little children in a remote Assam village when this question was raised by one of them. Was it a casual question or an intent question, I could not guess. Whatever it was, I did not expect such a point blank question from a kid. Slowly recovering from the shock, I explained to the kids that nowadays people in Tamil Nadu generally do not use their title (caste name) along with their name; this was mainly because of the social reforms movement in the past in Tamil Nadu. By not using the title, social equality was established and there was no open discrimination based on caste or community, I told them. Then I explained that the letter ‘S’ before my name was my initial and it indicated my father’s name (Srinivasan), and so was the case with the names of others also.
During my short stay in Assam, I had the chance to visit our family friend in rural Assam. It was Buddha Jayanthi day and holiday for the school; the neighbours’ children were roaming around in the nearby fields chasing each other and also the butterflies & dragonflies. It was a joy to watch the carefree kids frolicking around as it reminded me of my summer vacation in the native village. It was then the daughter of my friend enticed them with sweets to assemble at her house for an interaction with me, an ‘alien’ visitor from distant Tamil Nadu. She commanded them to introduce themselves; ‘Namasthey, my name is Sri ……..  (name and title) and I am studying in …. Standard’, the boys introduced themselves prefixing Sri to their names while the girls prefixed their name with ‘Srimathi’.  I was intrigued by the tradition of prefixing Sri and Srimathi to the names. Then she asked them to render the State Song which they did with a lot of giggles. (YouTube link - https://youtu.be/iX8V5wCq3O4)
Though they were enticed by the sweets, they were hesitant to taste them because she told them she had prepared the sweets especially for them. Only when her mother revealed the truth that it was she and not her daughter who had prepared the sweets did they venture to taste them! It was then one of the boys shot that question to me as I had introduced myself merely as Balakrishnan from Chennai, Tamil Nadu. ‘No title!’ That boy must have wondered since then.
I was wearing a dhoti and explained to them that the dhoti and shirt with an angavastram (towel) was the traditional dress of Tamil men; the women wore their sari with the pallu over their left shoulder but they do not cover their head with the sari; nor do they wear sindoor on the forehead but only between the eyebrows.
Then I showed them a matchbox that was lying in the house with a rhino label that had been manufactured in Sivakasi in Tamil Nadu and described about the matchbox and fireworks industry in Sivakasi that colourfully lights up the sky during Diwali. I could notice the glint in their eyes as we spoke about Diwali and fireworks!  
As we exchanged riddles the same boy pointed out with a naughty smile that the Hindi word ‘kela’ that I used in a riddle was a ‘bad’ word in Assamese language; instead, one should use ‘khol’ to indicate banana, he enlightened me. I thanked him for his language tips but I was invariably using the word ‘kela’ throughout my stay in Assam and nobody seemed to mind it.
The next evening I saw them in resplendent dress, ready to attend a wedding ceremony where they stayed till late night enjoying the food and music. The next morning they were at their school (which was just next door), first cleaning the premises by reluctantly picking up the dried leaves from the ground to the command of the class leader, and then piously singing the prayer songs, now and then smiling at me. I could guess they were sharing information about me with their classmates.
It has been some six months since that encounter with the Assamese kids took place but I am yet to fully recover from the abrupt “What is your title?” question from a little boy; even an educated elderly person in Guwahati asked the same question when I told him about my visit to this friend’s house. He did not ask for my friend’s name or what he was doing, but instead directly asked ‘what is his title?’ Is it an indication of the deep-rooted evil social practice prevalent in many other parts of our country? For that matter, the caste evil has neither fully disappeared from Tamil Nadu. It quietly flows underneath and erupts now and then, more so in rural areas.  Well, even the father of our nation is known by his title Gandhi and not by his name Mohandas! As the saying goes, ‘What is in a name/title?’ After all, a human being is a human being.  
The writer can be reached at [email protected]