What’s in a name? Ask Sunam’s Makadi Baba, Pappu Thanedar

Spice of Life: Once while dealing with a difficult situation during the procurement season, I was advised by the experienced office superintendent to discuss the matter with Kaka Mental

Driving in the rain with the radio playing old Hindi movie songs with the All India Radio presenter announcing names from a long list of people requesting for songs from villages, colonies and towns – always makes me imagine them eagerly waiting to hear their names over the radio more than the song they requested for. Some names are of two-three family numbers and some of larger groups from colonies. It makes me wonder whether they discuss and reach a consensus over the song or is it just one person writing-in with names of all members. Hearing names and trying to visualise their stories takes me back to my tenure as the sub divisional magistrate at Sunam Udham Singh Wala.

Sunam is a historic town in Punjab and is home to a lot of well-known people. The town has a distinct character of its own and everyone knows everyone. What was most fascinating for me was the large number of nicknames local people had for each other. (Representative image)

It’s a historic town and is home to a lot of well-known people. The town has a distinct character of its own and everyone knows everyone. What was most fascinating for me was the large number of nicknames local people had for each other. These were popular names, with some downright offensive sounding to me as an outsider. I was always assured by the staff, particularly my driver who belonged to Sunam that these weren’t. I would quietly scribble the name to later ask about how it came about.

There are many interesting notes from my tenure at Sunam. To begin with, there was the famous Makadi Baba. He was an employee of the municipal committee and a familiar figure in the lanes of the town. Nobody knew his real name and he most certainly had a personality to match the name. Not in the literal Spider-Man way that one would imagine but as a rustic small-town hero: A tall burly man with henna-dyed flaming orange hair running down to his shoulder complete with kohl-lined eyes. He moved around town with immense confidence and bold steps, inspecting the lanes to check whether they had been swept. He is a sight difficult to miss. There are many theories of how he got his name – but the closest really was that he serves at the town’s “pir-baba”.

Then there was a small kiryana shop owned by Pappu Thanedar. This man, though, was never in the police as his name implies. He just habitually liked to keep tabs on people and ask them their whereabouts when they visited his shop or even crossed by. This regular spy-like Thanedari earned him his title!

On a number of occasions, one had to stop and ask for directions and the name, Chuhe-da-kanda, came up routinely. One would imagine that the place may have been infested with mice at some time, but I was informed that a former owner was a diminutive ‘mouse-like’ personality. Hence, the name.

Once while dealing with a difficult situation during the procurement season, I was advised by the experienced office superintendent to discuss the matter with Kaka Mental as he may be able to convince the truck union to call off their strike. I was understandably appalled to be asked to consult an unstable person but he went on to explain that it was just his name that he got in his youth because of unnecessarily picking up and joining in fights with strangers. He later went on to become the truck union president, but the name from his youth stayed.

I obviously got inquisitive to know the story behind names during my tenure at Sunam. So, when a Mr Prem Dhamaka came to meet me – I imagined a love story that may have ended in a loud bang! I was utterly disappointed though when I go to know that it was just his given name. parneetshergill@gmail.com

The writer is a Chandigarh-based Punjab-cadre IAS officer