There is more to a name than just sound and
alphabetic language. Never mind Juliet Capulet who thought that a rose would
smell as sweet if it were to be given any other name, thus rendering a name an
artificial and meaningless convention. I don’t blame the poor girl she was blinded
by love. If however I were to indulge Miss Capulet a bit, using her love for
Romeo Montague as an example, would it be okay to ‘christen’ how she felt for Romeo as hatred? I don’t think so. To explain
my difference of opinion I’d say, love in its various forms facilitates
interpersonal relationships and emotions such as kinship (storge), divine love (agape),
friendship (philia) and romantic
desire (eros). Hatred on the other hand
is often associated with a disposition towards hostility. As far as similarity
goes with regards to love and hatred, it would be that the two are both social
and culturally constructed, this does not mean that they can ever replace each other on any stage unless
a person’s disposition changes. With this therefore I consider Miss Capulet’s
view an error of judgment, a rose would never smell as sweet if it were to be
given any other name, it was christened
a rose because of its sweet smell, period!
You are probably be wondering where I’m headed with
this, wait no longer as I am about to share my recent encounter. A few days ago against my
better judgement I allowed myself to attend one of those so called prestigious
events, which those who attend these, consider themselves a delightful rich
layer of the cream on top of any best coffee brand in the land. Coffee can be so good!!!
Anyway, before I get distracted I must continue with my story! On my way to
this event I psyched myself into the best of acceptable protocols that social
conventions consent to for revelers, meaning I was all smile, arms wide
open, figuratively, and all ready to hug
and smooch! I looked like I was floating on air!
Lo behold! I was hardly five minutes in that makeshift gallery before
I was affronted. The crime in question happened in the sake of my name. I know,
I know, my name can be a tongue twister, but it carries one of the best meanings
I can ever think of. I would like to think it is the combination of storge and eros. My French teacher Daisy (May her soul rest in peace!), taught
me that my name meant Desireé in French. Since I am not French speaking we
shall continue using it the way my parents conceived it, or me! Pun unintended! There you have it; eros drove the whole process of my existence!
Nevertheless as we were sharing pleasantries, one of
the women, I guess she might have thought that others were not engaging me
enough, darted towards me to introduce herself. I smiled readily and introduced
myself too. She stopped with a stare then asked me to repeat my name; I obliged, and looked at her directly in the eye when I mention my name, the second time around. She
smiled, and then the unexpected happened. “What a sweet name, but it would be
difficult for me to say it, what should I call you then”, she said. Our eyes
locked, and my disposition changed from sweet to callous, but I still managed to sweetly say, “You can call me Celiwe”. She smiled meekly and pulled away,
back to where she sat before she decided to swoop on me like a scavenger seeing an animal carcass!
Now do tell me, was I supposed to shorten my name
for the benefit of this person, or was I supposed to give myself a nickname? I don’t
think so! As I explained earlier my name carries a profound meaning, you can
forgive me for being a stickler when it comes to it. I was taught from childhood that child naming
is sacred, in African cultures it can go on to be a profound statement of the
child specialness, the child’s path in life, and sometimes events that preceded
the child’s birth. So, next time a person asks your name and figures that it
would be proper to shorten it without your permission; you’ve earned the right
to call them out! Your name is not just a meaningless convention but a
foundation of your uniqueness!
I guess you now understand why I would suggest that
Miss Capulet was drunk in love (courtesy of Queen B) when she said a rose would smell as sweet in any other name. It definitely wouldn’t!
