The Namesake

I went to see this movie alone last Friday. With ten minutes til showtime, only one seat left in the theatre. It's got my name on it. And I find myself sitting next to four people from the ashram. As I make my way across their feet I say, "You're Fred, right? I remember you from the ashram. 1989." He looks at me sort of stunned. "Yes, I was there."

Beautiful movie. I love Mira Nair, her eye, her depth and sensual clarity. If you liked Monsoon Wedding or Mississippi Masala, go see The Namesake.

Very poignant for me as the topic of my name is making strange things happen.

The next morning I drive River out to Stinson Beach, over the mountain from Mill Valley to the coast. I'm an hour away from home waiting outside a cafe for my friend when an Indian man walks up with his baby granddaughter. He tells me her name and I spell it back to him correctly. Surprised, he looks at me wondering how I am familiar with Hindi. "My name is Prema," I say, "I lived in India."

He wants to know where but I just say Bombay. He wants to know exactly where. I tell him the name of the village. He throws his arm up smiling and repeats the Sanskrit greeting of our teacher's lineage. He escorts me to his table to meet his wife. She asks, "Were you in India in 1989?" I nod yes. "Me, too. You look so familiar. I know I saw you there."

The joke is not lost on me. I start thinking about my teacher intently and suddenly meet two people from India in two separate locations. It's like that - you get hit over the head with synchronicity until it becomes ridiculous to wonder.