Surnames of people in my country differ a lot, though they sound similar to others. I am Parulekar, while there are Parulkar, Paralkar, Parelkar, and a few more which have a greater difference from the original spelling. It should not be difficult for people in my country to remember the differences because they know about it. Perhaps it is lethargy, or lack of application of mind and concentration (both required in minuscule quantities for this purpose) that causes this error.
There was a Dean of Surname Parulkar in my institute, when I was a resident doctor and later a Lecturer. He was famous, and it was natural that people would remember his name. A number of people used to call me by his name, long after he retired. There were people like subsequent Deans, who insisted on calling me Parulkar despite explaining that I was Parulekar. That could have been a manifestation of an attitude. Since I could not do anything about it, I let it be.
I was waiting for a meeting outside the Dean's office the other day, and for want of anything better to do, I looked at the walls and the things hung on them. There was a board with names and working periods of the past Deans there. I had seen the names before, but something made me read all the names again, checking their spellings. All names were accurate, except one. They had put Parulekar in place of Parulkar. Perhaps the painter knew me and did not know the past Dean? Perhaps the person who wrote down the contents for the painter knew me and not the past Dean? I know it was not divine justice, because it does not happen with injustice to another.
There was a Dean of Surname Parulkar in my institute, when I was a resident doctor and later a Lecturer. He was famous, and it was natural that people would remember his name. A number of people used to call me by his name, long after he retired. There were people like subsequent Deans, who insisted on calling me Parulkar despite explaining that I was Parulekar. That could have been a manifestation of an attitude. Since I could not do anything about it, I let it be.
I was waiting for a meeting outside the Dean's office the other day, and for want of anything better to do, I looked at the walls and the things hung on them. There was a board with names and working periods of the past Deans there. I had seen the names before, but something made me read all the names again, checking their spellings. All names were accurate, except one. They had put Parulekar in place of Parulkar. Perhaps the painter knew me and did not know the past Dean? Perhaps the person who wrote down the contents for the painter knew me and not the past Dean? I know it was not divine justice, because it does not happen with injustice to another.
