What’s in a name?

Obviously more than that which we call a rose.

Quick! Who said that!

I give you one minute to guess. No Googling allowed.

Give up, yet?

{Okay, so you need to take out the “obviously more than that”}

Shakespeare. But, of course.

I’ve been thinking about this name business.

Since.

I received the following text:

“Yo! Shahzada I forgot to tell you this but we’re having our msa meeting tomorrow in H50. Text me asap when you get this.”

Clearly I’m not Shahzada. And what the h is the msa up in H50, yo?

For a few {rather long} minutes I couldn’t help but wonder just how different my entire life would be if.

If.

I was Shahzada.

First I imagined myself with way more attitude. A name like that just seems to ooze some ‘tude. For some reason. Don’t cha think?

Secondly I definitely thought I’d have an entirely different wardrobe. Something edgier. Funkier. Nothing in line with my clean and classically  bold understatements.

I’d be one walking overstatement. Yet. With a name like Shahzada, I’d pull it off.

I’d go by Shahz.

People would know me everywhere. I’d have all the right connections.

I’d probably cuss more. A hell of a lot more than I do now.

I wouldn’t take any shit. No one would want to cross me with a name like that.

Funny.

To think how different it could all be.

Just by a name.