Prisha is the sort of name that arrives with confetti in its pockets—an Indian/Sanskrit treasure that stems from prī, “to please,” and is lovingly translated as “beloved” or “God’s gift.” She says her two bright syllables—PREE-sha—quickly, like a giggle that can’t wait to get out, and then lingers in the ear with a soft shimmer. Picture a sun-splashed ribbon bridging cultures: on one end, centuries-old temples where the name first bloomed; on the other, modern American playgrounds where it has been steadily climbing the charts since the early 2000s, dancing around the 700–800 ranks with graceful persistence. Prisha feels at once familiar and fresh, as if “pretty” met “wish” at a block party and they decided to stay best friends forever. Parents drawn to names that sparkle without shouting, that nod to heritage while playing nicely in English, often find Prisha to be the perfect, gift-wrapped surprise.