What's your name? You ask

Kin-ate

Ky-Knight

Kan-not

As a Pakistani girl, people never got my name right, but I don’t really complain.

To be honest, sometimes I don’t get it right either.

It would be hypocritical of me to get mad, that your tongue is too weak to carry my heavy name.

You see, my people have been through war.

They’ve bitten their tongues for so long,

That now their tongues are strong enough to carry my name.

And that’s enough for me.

That’s why I don’t really complain.

Look, my tongue still shakes and quivers as soon as somebody asks me:

“What is your name?”

I say Kainat.

They say Kay-not?

I say Kainat.

They say Kai-not?

“Kai”

I lift weights off my name.

But, I still feel like, I don’t have the right to complain.

I know words like “supercalifragilisticexpialidocious” and it’s atrocious that my tongue is strong enough for this word.

My tongue is strong enough to carry three other languages, but it still quivers when I’m asked;

“What is your name?”

My name is Kainat.

Kainat, like the universe.

Kainat and it's not universe for you.

It's a burden.

You tell me, you wish my parents named me something “easier.”

I smile at you and tell you my name can get easier.

I light the weights off my name.

Kai.

But then I remind myself, that I am so much more than a mispronunciation.

Kainat. I am the sky, and I am the stars, I am the plants, I’m the moon.

So when you ask me,

“What is your name?”

I’ll smile and say,

“My name is Kai....nat.”