Call Me Anything But Panda

A name and identity with which I no longer associate myself.

Panda- an Asian specie known for its black and white colour, round beer belly, long hibernation periods, cuteness, laziness, bubbliness, playfulness, bamboo eater, and a very common nickname. This writer was once called Panda and the name tag still remains.

Back in 2013, it was monsoon and I shifted to Dehradun to pursue my degree. A small valley town, mesmerising campus, amidst the Himalayan ranges- gust of fresh air or a new beginning. I wouldn’t deny that I was not overweight or putting it subtly, “I was healthier than expected.” I did not eat junk but the concept of exercising or running was discomforting, because of all the obvious reasons (you need to get good pair of shoes, track pants and more importantly good support to have your chest). My healthy choices reflected on my cheeks and projected them chubby. Anyone would come and pull my cheeks (face) and say “Ooo! You soo cute” and talked as if I was a baby. Nor so that, my girlies found me “soft” and wished they had a pillow like me to sleep over. My arms, my belly pouch, my cheeks- every inch was named cute and soft, mushy and plushie, as if I were a soft toy from Archie’s Gallery. More so, after a hectic college day from 8 AM to 5 PM, the sooner I sat in my cab I fell asleep. And when the cab had to take a sharp turn speedily, my body in inertia took time to adapt and lean over others, making me feel like Mr. Round Bottoms.

Since, all these traits matched with the characteristics of Panda, the animal, a not-so-blonde but Blair Waldrof kind of a girl, hotmess of the University, the famous one and her muse named me “Panda”. And by the end of 1st Semester, the word spread like a wildfire among a batch of 150 students. Throughout the 5 years at University, Panda became my identity. People forgot my name, name kept by my parents. A beautiful name. As I became senior, I was referred as “Panda mam” by my dear juniors. But the talk wasn’t limited to my law school, it spread among engineering and management students as well. Once on my birthday, I was gifted a pillow with a Panda on it. Another time there was a cake and cards with Panda on it. My contact number was saved as Panda in people’s mobile. Everybody knew who Panda was. But nobody knew who Utkarsha is.

My erstwhile friends and their captions.

Leaving 150, not-so-blonde and others behind, even my close circle of 5-6 friends were so deprived of creativity that they also accepted the same name. Who am I to blame them or anyone, because I was the first one to accept it. I accepted it profoundly, that it became me. I happily entertained all the jokes, mocking, leg pulling towards me. Panda never encouraged me to change. It felt like I have been accepted among the peers I never had growing up. I thought that to be a part of friend circle or have friends one has to walk on the hot stones. It had became a part of my life that I started making fun of me/Panda just to cool down the situation. Interestingly, I never hated being called Panda nor did I liked it so much. It existed as much as I did. Panda was so cute, I mean I was that I remember few of my collegemates, on different occasions, asked while pulling my cheeks, “Hey! Panda! Why are you single? You are so cute and sweet. Why?”. All I said that I am still searching for the answer, but if you find me so sweet, why don’t you be the one.? And silently, they left the chat. What amazed me the most that my friends’ girlfriends took stand for me in front of their boyfriends saying why my friends were mocking me for no reason. And all they heard were shush. I felt good that someone took a stand for me, but thought to myself- why? We are friends and aren’t friends supposed to make fun of each other irrespective of the surroundings.? The word of the town was so hyped that my family came to know my nickname and they occasionally switched from my home nickname to Panda.

It has been 7 years since I have graduated and achieved lot more in life, yet this Panda has not left me. Back in 2017, my friend created my Instagram account and suggested that I should create my username with Panda in it and next thing you know, it was “Panda.inthebox” However, 2-3 years ago, I changed it into something else, something which made more sense to me, something with which I resonated, something which is quirky, because I realised I never wanted to be a Panda, I was made one. In last 7 years, I have grown, mentally, physically, emotionally. Leg pulling, which I used to enjoy felt like bullying, when I recall those moments. I wonder why I didn’t understand the reasons my friends’ exes stood up for me. I love my friends and my friend circle, but not the Panda I used to be. Like snakes shred their skin, as I was growing, I began disassociating myself from Panda. I changed, I threw, I removed all the things and actions that remined me of it. I did not hate myself, but I couldn’t be the one I used to, because I was never it. At my end, things did change. But at my friends’ or those who named me Panda, it didn’t. For them, they don’t dial Utkarsha on their phones, they dial Panda. On photographs, they don’t comment “Wow Utkarsha”, they write “Wow Panda”. I am not complaining, all I am saying, be creative.

Of all the above bashing, what I dislike the most is when the person I am dating whispers “Panda”. He was there when Panda was invented. Yet, it’s a turn off when he does that. And I know you are reading this post, lying inside your cosiest blanket. So next time, while the water drips and you exclaim “Panda”, all you will see a black and white mushy plushie cute lazy animal lying beside you in the same blanket.

Call me anything but Panda. 😇