What’s in a community name?

In the Indian satirical film PK, a humanoid alien comes to study planet earth. Something of an idiot savant, he naively questions the customs and dogmas of the human race (located firmly in India, in this case). He also queries languages and names. What’s in a name? Well, plenty actually. While Shakespeare argued that the name of a thing is not important because its essence remains the same, can the names of Auroville’s communities be dismissed so lightly? Imagine how an alien anthropologist parachuted into Auroville might perceive things. Armed with no foreknowledge, the anthropologist moves around this strange place dubbed the ‘city of dawn’, coming across signposts and names stuck to gates: what would the anthropologist make of these names? 

The alien anthropologist (who is strangely able to understand all languages encountered on planet earth) notes the penchant for French aspirational conceptions: Aspiration, Promesse, Douceur, Hermitage, Rêve, etc.The anthropologist also notes that this aspirational bent of names takes on a lofty spiritual tinge with the many Sanskrit-named communities: Arati, Sanjana, Sharnga, Agni Jata, Prayatna, Vikas, Udayan, Darkali, Samasti, Prarthna, Samriddhi, Kalpana, Sukhavati, Kalabhumi, Madhuca, Sangha, Nilatangam, Shakti, Kriya, Maitreye, Arka, Udyogam, Kailash, Anusuya, to name a few. 

But what do these names all mean, and why were they chosen for these particular communities?

As she wanders further around the city of dawn, the anthropologist notes names that pose some ambiguity: should they be pronounced in English or French? Courage, for example? Certitude, Miracle, Discipline, Fertile, Acceptance? Then there are the seemingly English names that could go either way, with a little French twist of the final syllable, oui? Such as Luminosity, Simplicity, Fraternity, Sincerity, Felicity, Creativity? But then again, English-French translation is sometimes more tricky than it initially seems, with different meanings holding the potential to create quite a storm in a teacup. “Merde, this is tricky,” she ruminates. 

“I shall have to keep my ear to the ground as I try to conquer this strange community’s naming tendencies.”

The anthropologist notes the possibility that the Anglophile Aurovilians must have begun to assert themselves at some point in this community’s 

history, and carved out some of their own explicitly Angloterritory: Evergreen, New Creation, Surrender, Hope etc. It then seems these Anglophiles got tired of dreaming up aspirational names, and resorted to the purely pragmatic: Youth Camp, Pony Farm, Centre Field, Near Beach, Far Beach, Nine Palms etc. But more recently, it seems the Anglophiles reverted to their more idealisticform as they conjured names evocative of futuristic utopias: Humanscapes, Sunship, New Lands etc. 

The anthropologist notes the lack of communities with Tamil names. There’s Udavi, which apparently means Tamil for ‘help’, which has variously been a fair trade store, crèche and site of various activities and small businesses near Edyanchavadi, before it evolved into the outreach school of today. And there’s Pitchandikulam, which apparently means “sage of the lake”, which derives from a local legend of an old ascetic who lived beside the tank. There’s Isaiambalam and Ilaignarkal, but not many more. 

There’s the evocative names: Siddhartha Forest, which hints that a forest hiker might accidently come upon the young Buddha meditating under a tree; Gaia, where the Greek goddess of the earth might emerge from the soil at full moon; and Baraka, Arabic for ‘blessing’, which captures the near-paradise of this lush farming community in the green belt. And then there’s the people with names that begin with Auro, or who take up new Sanskrit names or revert back to their pre-Sanskrit names... “Baffling indeed!” the anthropologist exclaims. “I need some help to swim through the dense naming currents of this place.”

Thirsting for information, she fortuitously stumbles upon the Auroville Archives. The excellent folk there inform her that the Mother gave names to some of the early communities and people, and it’s said that some of these names reflected virtues that she believed they already manifested to a certain degree, or should aim to manifest, such as Aspiration, Promesse, Fertile, Douceur – to name a few. On the question of pronunciation, the archives folk inform her that Mother wrote the French name ‘Utilité for one community, which has mostly lapsed into the English pronounciation ‘Utility’ these days. In other cases, the Mother gave bilingual names, such as Pour Tous / For All and L’Avenir d’Auroville / Auroville’s Future.

The archivist gives the naïve anthropologist a couple of books that provide the odd titbit of information on the topic, but there’s little to go on. What about after the early days? How was community naming undertaken during the middle period or the recent past? In those periods, it seems that bets were off and communities mostly dreamed up their own names. The anthropologist hears that an architect humorously called a community “Perspiration” as an interim name during the exhausting process of creation, but the temporary name caused palpitations in some residents who were relieved when the name was changed on completion. “Ooh la la,” ruminates the anthropologist, “these strange naming processes go beyond the usual structural functionalist explanations. This community functions in its own unique paradigm!” 

At this point, the helpful archivist informs the anthropologist that there is no comprehensive documentation about the naming of Auroville’s communities. The anthropologist is momentarily downcast. Quel dommage. But then she is elated! She realises she has identified A GAP in the research! A GAP is the holy grail of academic research! A GAP is the rationale to request copious research funds from intergalactic research institutes that appreciate the importance of such knowledge! This will enable stories to be gathered and documented; knowledge to be compiled! The anthropologist starts communicating with institutes on her own planet, to seek funding. But her planet operates in intergalactic time frames shaped by light years, so this will take forever in earth years...

In the meantime, she decides to ask the city of dawn’s residents if they would like to contribute their own stories of community naming to this venerable publication. How was your community name arrived at? Is there a logic, synchronicity or higher goal to it? Why/how did you choose a particular language? Does your community reflect the name? Have you also noticed naming trends in the city of dawn? Did certain kinds of names evolve as the city evolved? 

The anthropologist manages to persuade the editors of Auroville Today to reproduce a selection of the best naming stories received. Meanwhile, she is so entranced with the city of dawn that she decides not to return to her planet. She decides to start her own settlement in Auroville, and is currently considering names.....