On Bangalore. Or Bengalooru. Or Bengaluru.

There has been quite the furore in the Desi blogging world with reference to the proposed name change for Bangalore. Or rather, the-name-change-that-has-been-announced-but-requires- legal-sanction-to-ratify-it. Assuming our moribund government lasts that long.

Sandeep calls this "...the first of many braindead schemes to ensure that it’s all downhill from here" and that "...decolonizing and all sound good only if it were not used as substitutes for policy."

Indian Inheritance asks "...what the fuck is wrong with the name Bangalore?"

Nitin Pai decries this as "...not an isolated act of etymological terrorism by the H D Kumaraswamy government in Karnataka."

And the venerable Economist pipes in and strikes an opposing note:

"...Following the examples of Bombay, Madras and Calcutta, Bangalore has rebranded itself, taking the local name for “city of cooked beans”... Will it catch on? Yes, in the end it probably will, just as Mumbai, Chennai and Kolkata are slowly taking hold. Sign-writers and printers will be glad of the new business, politicians will claim a blow against British cultural enslavement and a victory for authenticity (though that story about the old woman and the king may be tosh), but many others will give a weary sigh. So many places change their names, and so often. They have every right to do so, of course, and it seems discourteous not to use their new names if they expressly ask you to."

And they sign off saying, "Dear Name-Changer, feel free to adopt any moniker you fancy, but do not hector others if they jib. A city of beans by any other name will smell as sweet, or beany."

Where do I stand? I can live with name change, even if I think that it is pretty stupid to murder a well known brand. What I detest is the fact that this linguistic chauvinism is being used to cover a litany of sins. Of the father and the son.