- My dad is a geologist and named me after a rock.
- Lajward is another name for the semi-precious stone known as lapis lazuli.
I have gotten used to repeating my name increasingly slowly the first time I meet someone new. Any other person with an ethnic-sounding name in a country where it is uncommon will relate, on some level, to this phenomenon. My Persian-derived name, however, proves to confound even people from whom such an ethnic name should be, at the least, less of a challenge.
It is no one's fault except perhaps my father, the geologist, who named his firstborn after a rock.
I'm named after a semi-precious stone
When you do a Google search for "Lajward name," the first hits that pop up will inform you that Lajward is the anglicized version of a Persian word that refers to the semi-precious stone lapis lazuli. The Persian word itself means "deep blue."
I have never met, and probably will never meet, someone else with my name. No one uses that word as a name.
Sure, people do use gemstones as a name. I have run into a couple of Rubys and even Sapphires, but I have never even run into a "Lapis" or "Lapis Lazuli." Not even the English version of "Lajward" is used as a name.
With a name like Lajward, it is incredibly tempting to imagine myself as a mononymous person (think Zendaya, think Madonna). Here's the thing, though: my parents did not pick an unconventional route with just my first name. My parents picked my last name like they picked my first name. I do not have my mother's or my father's last names. No cultural norms account for it either. People in Pakistan, where I was born, do use family names. My parents do not satisfactorily explain it either. They liked the name "Zahra" as a last name (even though it is traditionally a first name). Now, I introduce myself as Lajward Zahra — no middle name and no family name.
My name is just mine
I know that many people will argue that names are superficial and ultimately inconsequential in the course of our lives. Even then, for many, the family name they carry is part of their history and identity.
With no history of the sort in my name and a first name that no one else has, my name is just mine, and it has informed my identity. The deep lapis blue has seeped into pieces of my life. I mean, blue, by no surprise, has always been my favorite color. But there are deeper moments, too. Right before I underwent my thyroid biopsy, my grandfather gifted me a chunk of raw lapis. It remains one of the best gifts I have received to this day.
Then there are the more tangible perks of having a rarer name. It is incredible that when you google "Lajward Zahra," I make up all the top results despite having a relatively low profile. Or being complimented on having a unique name. I still laugh about the time that, upon first being told my name, a classmate replied, "That's a raw-ass name." What I love even more is being told that I look like how my name sounds, even though it has happened just a handful of times.
People ask me what my name means
Sometimes, after being told my name, people will ask what it means, and I'll explain that my dad is a geologist. I like to joke that if I had been born on a different day and he had been feeling particularly passionate about malachite or uranium, I would've ended up being named that. People argue about whether you should name your child after your interests (the Khaleesi baby debates), and I won't presume to speak on all cases, but I love my name.
Now, my father still contends that he read the name in a novel somewhere but doesn't remember which. Either way, I love reminding myself that I am Lajward Zahra when the end of a bad day or the beginning of a long one.