I know a new word today---‘anomia’. For some, the word may be unfamiliar like it was for me until yesterday. But it refers to a condition which may be a very familiar one for all. The word means ‘an inability to recall the names of people (or objects, but that is not important here). If 10 people are reading this (wishful thinking, I know) 8 of them would be thinking….”Oh!! ….I know this one”.
Many interesting episodes on anomia may come to your minds ; the protagonist may be you or someone else. Many may have fallen prey to this not so rare phenomenon. Even I can tell you a tale or two.
My dad often behaves anomiac; like when he referred to a distant relative named Babu Rajendra Prasad as Subhash Chandra Bose (he at least remembered that the name was shared by a prominent national leader of yester years). But I am not sure if his condition can be called ‘anomia’, because he seems to have no trouble recalling names. On the contrary, he is positive that he knows the names- only they are wrong ones. I wonder if there is another term to describe this condition…’misnomia’ perhaps?
Anyway, it is safer and easier to have a conversation with my dad ignoring all the proper nouns. Of course it is an exciting and challenging intellectual exercise trying to guess the person he is talking about, for there will be some common factor linking the actual name and his-given-name, semantically, phonetically or contextually.
I, luckily, belong to the non-anomiac category, having an exceptional gift for remembering names much to the envy of many of my friends with an inferior RAM. All of us being teachers, dealing with a number of students, it is hardly surprising that may colleagues turn green when I call each student by his/her name. Often seeing their confused looks, I have conversationally ‘called’ the students they are talking to , reminding my friends of the name of the person they are talking to; inviting a happy sigh from them and putting their nomo-ignoramus brains to rest.
On one occasion, when I was out street shopping with a friend, she suddenly startled me when she gripped my wrist hard. A terrified look on her face made me look in the direction of her gaze and I saw a student of ours approaching us with a big smile. I could guess the reason for her firm grasp, and soon gave her the information she sought from my hard disc. And when the girl reached us, my friend very brightly exclaimed: “Oh!! Hi XYZ….. so good to see you here”(intentionally naming her XYZ, lest she gets hurt that her teacher had forgotten her name)
Another friend has come to terms with her anomia so well and is an expert at handling the identity crisis, to the extent that she can have an hour-long conversation with a person without a clue as to what his or her name is where she has met that person before. This exceptional ability of hers reinforces my strong belief that individuals are differently blessed.
Dealing with anomiacs can thus be fun and often stimulating if you know they are so. But otherwise, it may be confusing, embarrassing and even dangerous, like when some anomiac, while introducing you to others, chooses to change your name or your father’s or worst of all your husband’s (or wife’s).
But these are all lesser tortures compared to what our anomiac friends often have to suffer. The line most dreaded by anomiacs? That would be: “Do you remember me? Ok..then tell me…. What’s my name?” This is one situation where even I would love to be anomiac and shatter the horrible ego of the person in question and supply all sorts of weird names.
Ha!! I will soon do so at the next available opportunity.
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