I wrote many names; many different names, when I was a kid
and a student. It was a plaything.
I wrote in my notebooks, on my geometry boxes, on my beds,
everywhere. I wrote the name of the kings and imagined those as my names.
I added ‘Drukpa’ to my name. I added ‘K’, ‘F,’ ‘D,’ to my surname. I played. But one name that remained in the school is Saacha. And the sound of this name changed permanently. It became ‘Saa’ from ‘Shacha.’ We had a very phony headmaster at Tsebar Primary school in the 1990s. He was a southern Bhutanese. And
you know, they have some difficulty in pronouncing some words like ‘tsa,’
‘cha.’ They don’t have this sound I feel. Even English people cannot pronounce these.
This phony headmaster was very particular to me. I was
pulled by ears in front of the assembly and asked to be a house captain for
a year. I did that, and he liked it, I guess.
He was fortunately or unfortunately our class teacher of
class VI. Class VI had a common exam in Bhutan during that time, and the result
came from the board. It was a huge one for us. And it meant a lot. We had to burn the
midnight oil. I nearly got burned by papers.
So, this is how my name got; changed from Sha…to Saa. He not
only gave my southern-sounding name but also gave my DOB, which would remain throughout
my life. The school was a birthplace. Our mothers were at school at those times. Like
me, many friends got DOB and names. Ngydrup became Nidup, Gyalpo became Gepo, Chedrup
become Chedup, Drolo became Dolo. He changed it all and the school changed it
all. We had no voice. The school was our name, DOB, father, mother, and everything. Such
was the power of the teachers.
For me, I didn’t tell my different-sounding name to my
parent; if not my parent would think that I have an Indian-sounding name or
type. I didn’t bother much. Name or not. It does not reflect who I am. The
outer physical, the outer wealth, etc doesn’t determine me. The real I is
inside. The self-worth type!
