My Name is...Never mind!

[This post has been long overdue! Two nights back I was surfing through the Channels and landed on the one that was showing SRK trying real hard to show how he can get Autistic! I will reserve my comments on that performance for another post, but first it's I, me and myself. So read on.]

"It is a bit Big", a bird sitting next to me in office chirped. I chuckled. She was commenting on my name(before you run your imaginations wild). I told her how a friend of mine in his inimitable sarcasm had exclaimed-"I never knew you had such a magnificent name! You could write a Novel, make a movie out of it." I had chuckled then, too.
It all started way back in 1976, when I was, apparently to the joy of my paternal and maternal family, born. Now both the families suggested names- Paternal side suggested Srinivas and Maternal side suggested Chetan and in a magnanimous moment when the decision had to be taken, someone(I really dont know who) decided to appease both the sides! And thus I was christened Srinivas Chetan. Now,along with these two names came the initials H and K(H is the village we hail from, Hebbar. K is my father's name, Keshavamurthy, the part I am proud of in the entire protraction.
My parents kept it simple calling me chethi mostly and chetan occasionally (the latter with a soprano, which usually meant I was about to be spanked).
At school, my friends called me Chetan. Teachers were having a tough time choosing from Chetan to Srini to Srinivas. In the professional world, the crisis continued- but it stabilised between chetan, srini or a very rare 'chet'. This went on and I thought I was settling down- until recently- when I joined this organisation which demanded I give my name "as it is in the passport".
And so I had to give my fully expanded name- "Srinivas Chetan Hebbar Keshavamurthy", which now has become my display name on all my official emails and chat.
The new set of colleagues keep asking me -"What do I call you?" Considering the wide range I have to offer, I just narrow it down to "Srini or Chetan- you can pick". I am sure I have left an entire office confused. But then, Srinivas Chetan is my name, and its all the same!
Birds keep chirping, and I keep chuckling, wondering "Whoever said What's in a name?"
God, Stop this Game.
Addendum: I need to mention the shortest way anyone has addressed me- "C". Thats from my butter-half.

The lullaby, the frown and the silence

I am sure God was not in his elements when he was working on my vocal talents. It is a well-known fact that singing is not the most enjoyable of experiences that I can provide my audience, if I manage to gather any. I had, believe me, managed a prize or two during my school-days, but that was largely due to my mother's vigilant selection of songs that were simple enough for me to stay in the chord that I started with and end the song with tolerable damage to the original. But, then the fact is that my singing talent is at best, a croak and at worst, a bray. And so, I harmonised my tunelessness in tune with my life and moved on.
I eventually got married- I didnt have to sing to impress my wife-to-be, you know. And then the children. I had almost forgotten how shocking my singing can be until recently and instinctively, I tried a lullaby on my 1 year old daughter.
It was one of those nights around 10PM and both my wife and I having had a long day, were preparing to retire- but for the tantrums thrown by our daughter. In one moment of indiscretion I decided to take over the responsibility of "putting her to sleep". I tried a few tried-and-tested tricks in the bag- carrying her and resting her head on my shoulders, putting her on the lap and rocking her on the lap- but her screams and cries continued. That's when my instinct took over. I started singing what I thought was a lullaby. And then miraculously, there was a sudden silence. My daughter stopped crying and started staring at me, intently and there was a frown on her innocent face which- if I'm not mistaken, was a mixture of anger, shock, stunned amazement and later moved into deep sympathy. She said it all in that fleeting 3-4 seconds.
It could be any or all of the below thoughts: An angry "Ok..Ok.. If you care to make up that truck-load of crap, I will sleep. Now stop singing for Gossake". OR a regretful "I should have listened to mommy and gone to sleep." OR a panicky "Help..help..my dad is a freak" OR an ingenious "The only way I can keep him quiet is to go to sleep. Let me just close my eyes.."
And in the next 2 minutes she was fast asleep.
But before that lull after my storm, there was a strong statement without utterance of a single word.