What's in a name?

There are some that take well to instruction.

Others that march to the beat of their own drum.

And they are often misunderstood, seen as the rebels, the non-conformists, sometimes just mischievous. They seen as the ones who need to grow up. But let me invite you today into a chapter of a story of one of those misfits.

My uncles called me fighter. Me, a girl, an Indian girl having gained that nickname not in teenage hood as one might assume, but at age 3. I was not one to take lightly to instruction. And I wasn't afraid to use swear words either to express myself. Especially in public apparently. My fighting spirit probably came from both my parents. My parents are two of the most resilient people I know. That however, wasn't my only nickname. Prishani Moodley aka fighter aka half loaf. Half loaf. Who gains a nickname like half loaf???

Well I blame it squarely on the town I grew up in. Greytown. A farming town about120 km from Durban. A town with one main street, no mall at the time, one main restaurant, pretty much one of most things. A town so small that from my Dad's office to home, we could stop at the bread factory and buy freshly baked bread. You heard me right, Fresh - just baked- bread.

I was 4 or 5 maybe years old when that started. The smell of fresh bread was the like the smell of popcorn when you enter a mall or cinema. Addictive is the word you looking for. Unavoidable. And so yes, half loaf was the name I gained besides weight because by the time we arrived home from that drive I ate half a loaf of bread.

I loved growing up in a small town. I "inherited" my first bicycle at age 10. My cousin didn't seem very interested in it and finders keepers was a 90s philosophy as a kid. I loved to cycle. No license needed and you could get pretty far with a bike. It was my personal license to freedom. My dad would willingly drive me but I loved to use my bike if I could. My cousins called me Prish or Pre. A name I grew to love because it meant I wasn't in trouble. I had a much older brother who brought home many friends who were about 15 years older than me. Because of some cartoon they loved and for no clear reason I also was known as Stinky. I did confirm later on that it had nothing to do with me actually being stinky, but something to do with the character.

Starting out an as internal auditor in a new city from my farm life you never really know how your career will turn out. But Johannesburg and the 3 companies I've worked for, have truly been kind to me. I ended up auditing a lot of factories and distribution centre's and my coworkers loved calling me by my surname. Moodley. It made me feel grown up somehow. And part of the gang of auditors making a name for themselves in the working world.

But the simplicity of the surname Moodley ended when I got married. I became proficient at the radio alphabet. N for November. U for uniform. N for November again. D for delta. K for kilo. I for indigo. S for sierra. U for uniform and N for November again. Nundkisun. It is spelt deadlier than it sounds because the D is silent.

Luckily the confusion of my new surname remained in the limelight only until my son was born. Last month was his 10th birthday. And since 2012 I pretty much became known as Joshua's Mum.

My name now appears mostly on a zoom screen so most get it right the first time.

That's not the same grace I receive at Starbucks or when I place orders by telephone or give my name to most security guards when I enter an estate. Then I'm generally Peach, Trish, Krish or once even Fish. Somehow people don’t hear the “P”!

But.... What's in a name?

It's truly just your identity for that moment in time. When I think about it, you are defined by much more, what lasts all through that time behind the scenes. Your character, your fighting spirit, your sense of humor – your integrity, how you respect others, how you serve others and whether you do what you do with excellence. So, hopefully when we meet in person you may forget my name but that's what you will remember most.