What's in a name? IDK, dude, ask Vadivelu

Hi, I’m Shruti. And as any other Shruti would tell you, it’s a painfully common name.

Walk into any crowded room and call out for Shruti — at least 3 heads will swivel in your direction. My fellow ~~Shrutis~~ sisters in pain.

Growing up, there was always a duplicate Shruti (or Shruthi, or Sruthi) in my vicinity.

This forced me to accept a life of perpetual identification through descriptors and modifiers.

Usually, we stuck to initials, which was fine and dandy. I spent my formative years answering to “Shruti R” more often than my actual name.

Occasionally, a glitch in the simulation would occur. Another Shruti R would enter the chat, much to my annoyance.

And unfortunately (for us Shruti Rs), everyone had to get creative to pin down which person they were addressing.

For a while, I was “Nerdy Shruti.”

Then I was “The tall one.” Or “the bespectacled one.”

To the bullies, I was “the fat one.” Body positivity had not quite reached my school in the mid-2000s.

Even those offensive prefixes failed to faze me. (Yeah, yeah “fat” is not a bad word but try telling that to a 12-year-old brain when boys are laughing at her while saying it.)

I handled the bullies just fine but then 2007 arrived and dismantled my peace of mind forever.

Enter Pokiri

The bane of my existence.

Fuckin’ Pokiri.

This film altered life for every Shruti in the immediate vicinity of a Tamil cinema fan. It sounds dramatic, but it’s true.

Asin plays the female lead, also a Shruti. And the movie features Vadivelu as a karate-obsessed landlord with a delusional crush on her.

He makes a caricature out of martial arts and is absolutely problematic but thankfully, the laugh tracks are more around his usual over-the-top shenanigans and general incompetence. And I will even admit that I find a lot of his jokes stomach-clutchingly funny.

BUT.

The man also has a very specific, very cursed pronunciation of the heroine’s name.

Surudhi.

The man uttered those three syllables and doomed every Shruti to a lifetime of mockery.

Now, every time I meet a Tamil movie buff, a countdown clock starts ticking in my brain. I wait for the inevitable.

A few minutes into the conversation, I spot a glint developing in their eye.

Their lips lift into a smug, excited smile.

They look at me as if they are about to deliver a line of Shakespearean brilliance for the first time in human history.

“Va Surudhi polaam!” they choke out, before descending into a fit of self-congratulatory giggles.

How refreshing.

How deeply original.

I simply roll my eyes and continue plotting the demise of Vadivelu’s legacy.

(jkjk I love the guy)

Also read: 7 Reasons Why ChatGPT Cannot Like Me

“Giu respect, tekk respect”

While his “Surudhi” only got famous with Pokiri, at least in my generation, my man Vadivelu has been butchering my name since 2001. Manadhai Thirudivittai also features a heroine named Shruthi (wrong spelling, imo) whom he refers to as Surudhi.

Remember the iconic “Why blood? Same blood” dialogue?

That Shruthi is who I am in my dreams when I’m called Surudhi and I no longer want to pretend that “it’s not that deep.”

*cue the abuse track*