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.