"Ekam" - Origins, Meaning, and My Experience

Someone's name serves as their central part of existence. When you are born, and you have no significance outside of the happiness your family feels as you enter the world, you are given a name. That name defines you until you grow to define yourself. Oftentimes, our names will be what lasts through life with us the longest, longer than any one person, often longer than any one object. The cultural, historical, or personal significance of a singular name carries silent importance. That is why, as often as our name just becomes something that we respond to, it's important to take a step back sometimes and reflect on what your name means to you, perhaps what it has done to you or for you as well. 

My name has also always been a central part of my identity, but not always in a positive way. In my culture, "Ekam" is not an uncommon name and carries several special meanings. The primary ones that parents often have in mind while naming their kids are "oneness" or "the light of two people being within one baby". On its own, that's a beautiful thing, and in the midst of my parent's hometown in India, it carries significant meaning. Here, however, the importance of its meaning dwindles. While this isn't inherently a bad thing, people unbeknownst to its meaning are also unbeknownst to its pronunciation, and as a result, Ekam is highly mispronounced. For a long time, I hated my name because of this and wished I was called something simpler, or perhaps more mainstream. During 1st-5th grade, I went to 3 different schools, and not staying more than 2 years at any one school meant that thinking about making new friends often occupied my mind. Always having to teach your friends how to say your name after the initial mispronunciation, especially at that age, actually made making those friends difficult at times. Some people even viewed me as more of an outsider than the other kids in my class, simply because my name was often not one that they had ever seen nor heard before. 

Ekam in its native tongue is actually pronounced "ae-kum", however, the initial pronunciation given by people I met was often "ee-kum". At some point, I adopted that pronunciation when I wasn't at home, and since then it's stuck, and actually became something that I prefer when I'm not at home. At home, I don't primarily speak English, and that distinction between how people are pronouncing my name actually serves as a distinction between me showing a certain side of who I am. Growing up in Canada and New Jersey during my younger years, I was heavily involved in the Indian communities and often went to Sunday School where I would learn about the history of my culture. Since moving from there, I've strayed further from my Indian side, but at home, it overtakes my behavior and interactions with my family. Nowadays, hearing people pronounce my name in its native tongue at school would just make me feel awkward because I've become so accustomed to that split of my American and Indian self. 

As I've grown up, I've learned to appreciate my name and what it means, as oftentimes it's what is the unique name in the room. In fact, it's become something that people often ask me the meaning of, and giving those brief explanations of the history and origins of my name are always wonderful. I also came to the realization that those people that made me feel like an outsider did so out of immaturity. Since High School especially, my name has never served as something that hinders the relationships I can make. Seeing its growth has warmed my heart, and with that change in how other people view my name came a change in how I view it. I no longer resented it, and rather embraced it as a defining part of who I am. 


Comments

  1. I remember first meeting you and thinking to myself "Ekam seems like a fun name". Too often I assume someone's name doesn't have much meaning behind it, but the background you give on its meaning and the thoughts you gave were an eye opener, not to mention very intriguing.

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  2. I think it's interesting how you saw the two different pronounciations of your name representing the split between your "American and Indian self." I wrote in my old blog about how I felt like I defined my name more than it defined me, and it's cool to see that you eventually kind of came to a similar conclusion, that there's always only one Ekam in the room and it always means you, and nobody ever thinks about it being Indian or anything else about it.

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  3. This was a surprisingly deep post, but I thought you told a really detailed story for a seemingly broad prompt. I liked your point about the different pronunciation you have for your name with people outside your family. I find myself doing the same thing with my middle and last names and it's cool to hear about others' experiences doing it too.

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