What's in a surname?

I wasn’t born with a name. Though my parents had a tall list of shortlisted names and just few hours of my arrival, they froze one. I didn’t have a say in it but it has stayed with me all my life. And most importantly, I am known by it (though I ain’t a celebrity to command global recognition).
I worked hard and made a name for myself (in my own little, simpler ways). It didn’t come easy. At school I worked hard to get the teacher shout my name. Broke my neighbour’s pencil or make my work speak, whatever it was, it took time and effort. For the professional world, well, I spent many nights working doubly hard, just to make the boss sit back and notice. So next time, in a crowd he doesn’t just pass an ‘I-know-you-but-what’s-the-name’ smile rather shouts my full name. Hard work isn’t it?
Then marriage happened. Life changed for me. And so it did for the person who married me. I took his surname. Got a passport with his surname, the Pan Card took his name too. It was easy. Nobody asked me the reason then. I too happily went with the wave that ran in my family. My mother took my father’s surname just like her mother did and like every woman I can think of who got hitched. All the women follow this tradition of embracing their husband’s surname as the unwritten rule of the matrimony club. Naturally, I did follow the pattern as I believed I were one of them.
But fate proved otherwise. My marriage failed unlike any other women in the family. The surname became a huge burden. Something, I wanted to get rid of. Gosh! It was easier thought than done. Everybody and anybody got the licence to start an investigation probe on my marital failure. The Government officials didn’t spare me and I was judged at every step. My phone bills multiplied answering uncomfortable questions from total strangers. Every Government office did something or the other just to ensure that I stick to the surname, a little longer. Why blame only them, even a private bank, wasn’t any kinder and refused to open an account for me.
I required all my strength and it was more tumultuous than ending the actual relationship. Anybody less stubborn than me would have given up. I kept following up and after months I managed to part with the acquired surname, despite copies of court order.
Marriage is a beautiful institution and I have my faith in it despite my own setbacks. The successful ones will tell you that you should have enough love and be ready to make sacrifices to be happily married. But why make the woman prove her love by sacrificing her surname? Love doesn’t need any proofs, does it?
Though, every woman reading me is at liberty to decide for herself. But think twice before making a choice and most importantly, remember, it is your choice because it’s your name.


Pic Courtesy: Google Images