What's in a name?

When Sweden scored the other night, I heard the commentator saying "....son" had scored. I presumed it was Larsson. The goalscorer turned out to be Hansson. "Another 'son'", I thought. The 'son' here literally means a son. Such surnames are patronymic- named after the father. What immediately comes to mind is the Norse father-son duo of Erik the Red and Leif Eriksson. But present-day seemingly patronymic names are not, in fact, patronymic. Except Iceland (if you consider Iceland a part of Scandinavia), the other Scandinavian countries have forbidden the use of patronymic names for quite some time. Surnames became permanent when the more usual family name system was brought in- new generations would keep the patronymic of the head of the family at that time. The result of such a law in Denmark was that two thirds of Danes still carry a limited selection of names such as Nielsen, Jensen, and Hansen. (Danish patronymic surnames end with 'sen').

Now, a new law allows a return to the Viking tradition of patronymics. Instead of maintaining a single last name across generations, in this system each generation of children is given a last name that consists simply of the father's or mother's first name with the suffix "son" or "datter" (daughter) added on. More on this here.

P.S.: I wonder why many Poles have surnames '....ski'. Some more on this later :D

Tracks on the tracks

The last few months of local train journeys have been enjoyable. The reason: my IPod. Immersed in music, it's easy to forget the heat, sweat, smells, taunts, curses, shoves that make a typical train ride. Infact, I've got used to wanting to take the train just so that I can listen to some music. A curious incident happened in the train the other day. The man standing next to me asked me about the music player. He looked a little ragged and surely a man of less than modest means. I was concerned- he was not the kid of guy I'd usually have a chat with. I told him about the IPod and about it's memory. He wanted to listen to it as well and I couldn't say no. The first song was the Liverpool FC anthem "You'll never walk alone". He seemed to like it. We listened together as the next few songs were Talat Mahmood's classics. I hummed along as the IPOD played "Yeh hawa yeh raat yeh chandni". It must have been quite a sight because many in the compartment were staring at us. "Jalte hai kiske liye" was followed by"Shaam-e-gham ki kasam". Taking a cue from me, my fellow Talat fan sang aloud as "Itna na mujhse tu pyaar badha" played. My initial embarrassment gave way to an appreciative (of both the music and the music-lover) smile as we listened to Talat's mellifluous voice. I couldn't see the staring faces anymore, even though they might still have been there. Before I got down, the man complained softly that he did not get to hear songs often. As I took back the earphone from him to get down, we both wished this Ipod mehfil could have lasted a bit longer.

P.S. I'm going to miss the trains once I leave for Ahmedabad. Here is Abhinav's excellent piece on Mumbai's local trains.