What's There In A Name? Poem by Ibohal Kshetrimayum

Names intrigue me the most.
Even mine does!
Come to think of it,
I was named even before I knew
About it.

Now I know,
How names maneuver life.
I choose not to say for others,
But for me my name contradicts:
My belief,
My faith, and most importantly
My face.

Let me elaborate.

Once upon a time,
In my homeland,
A king changed his name,
With a borrowed name, nay,
A tutored name to be precise, and
With hm we lost our names,
Our belief,
Our faith,
Our language; and most devastatingly
Our faces.

Now I don't know,
What my name tells me
About me.
But it has told others
All (false)about me.
It betrays me every time
I say it to someone.
But, for my father,
Who gave me this strange name,
I keep it.

Father died on a christmas day.
His head was resting on my chest.
His breathing was retarding.
His eyes were struggling, infrequently,
To remain open, and
I heard his feathery murmur -
Son, say me a prayer...
With my fingers gently pressed
Beneath his jawbone, feeling his pulse,
I bent down to his ear, and
Said the Lord's Prayer, and he closed his eyes.
The neighborhood's Brahmin came along,
And (re)christened father as 'Bhakti Mohon Das'.
My father was never known by that name -
I corrected.
The revered broker of names smiled and replied -
What's there in a name?