Kaddu, Gugu nicknames reveal a lot about couples. Gen Z doesn’t need commitment to get started

Illustration by Shruti Naithani | ThePrint

Every couple, at some point, feels the uncontrollable urge to name each other something mortifying. Kaddu, Gugu, Bobo, Mikku—It’s a way of romantic world-building, where two tax-paying adults of the real world ditch their given names and address one another like they were pampering teacup dogs. Fortunately, for Gen Z the naming ceremony doesn’t depend on the commitment ceremony. Two-night stands, situationships, friends with benefits, girlfriend’s sister, everyone gets a nickname. It’s an important ritual, especially for people who juggle between too many insignificant others. Just call everyone Baby or the trending and commercialised ‘Pookie’ and don’t bother remembering anybody’s name.

If you think these cutesy couples are joking around with this embarrassing naming business, you’re wrong. Once a Lakshmi gets used to being privately called Lolo by her boyfriend, he dare not call her by her actual name. It’s downright hostile. The start or middle of a fight. Apoorvas become Appus, Akankshas become Aakus, and Priyas become Angel Priyas—and carry it around like a badge that says “Look, I am wanted”. It’s amazing how so many Honeypoopoos have made it their whole identity. Apparently, it’s healthy feminine behaviour to lose all brain cells and start acting like a toddler as soon as a girl is christened Honeypie or some such by two-week-old Hinge matches.

The seriousness with which couples dive into the nicknaming vortex also reveals too much about the relationship. John Lennon famously called Yoko Ono ‘Mother’ and she called him ‘Daddy’. You have to be a little open-minded to understand that they were more than parents to each other. Sure, sometimes these names can sound passive-aggressive, but they’re usually dipped in cute faith.

The mystery of couple nicknames

Take one journalist (formerly called ‘Rat’) who used to call her ex Grouch. Now, this is what it means to really notice each other in love. My aunt’s husband calls her Chudail (witch) and she calls him Chor (thief). They’re made for each other. My childhood bestie calls her fiancé Sir. She insists it’s out of habit since he’s her senior at work, but I smell something kinky. Hey, who am I to judge? These couple nicknames defy all logic.

Why would someone in their right mind call someone Momo, Zozo, Poo, Cupcake, or Puppy? The girl in my contact list who calls her situationship Porkie has no explanation for it. It just slipped out of her tongue one day and caught on. He doesn’t know it yet. She’s saving the news for when he actually saves her number on his phone.

Then there are people like my brother—neglected, as is the fate of every middle child—who never become anybody’s Honey, Sweetie or Cutie. Some of my sources say they don’t use pet names because they like their partner’s real name. Honestly, I don’t see any fun in that. Where’s the whimsy?

Going beyond baby, baba

Don’t hate me but there’s also a politics to romantic nicknaming. It shows who holds the emotional power in the relationship, and what gender roles are at play. Trust my generation to swipe past all that nonsense by always keeping things low-key ambiguous and a lot more complicated. For example, Babygirl and Wifey aren’t just fun terms of endearment. These are significant identifiers. Any guy can be a Babygirl but it takes a secure man to be a Wifey. I am not saying that, go check out the lively discourse on the internet.

Indians—the colourful lovers armed with unique regional terms of endearment—don’t stop at Baby, Baba, Booboo, Bub, Bum etc. Bengalis have Moni, Mishti, and Shonamoni; Kashmiris have Jaan, Zou, and Jigar; Biharis have Baua, Babu, Babuni, and Malayalis have Molu, Kutti, Chetta (elder brother). If you ignore the incestuous ring to these names, all of them are adorable. A Tamil friend knew she had fallen hard when she randomly called her boyfriend Pattu (literally, silk) on text after six months of un-chaperoned hangouts. When Pattu became Pattu Kutti, Pattooti and sometimes Toots, it was time to meet the parents.

As someone whose given name reminds people of a dying grandmother, I desperately seek nicknames in every romantic relationship I get into. Nauseate me with Kitty, Piggy, and Pumpkin but don’t remind me what’s written on my birth certificate. But I draw a line at Mommy. As the eldest child of my parents, I refuse to take on that burden.

Views are personal.

(Edited by Zoya Bhatti)