serendipity

languages

three languages call me,
but i respond to only one.

for english;

safiah. or of course you can call me sophia. these people, i have noticed, do not like pronouncing a name that isn't theirs. how inconvenient it must be for them. it sets uneasy on their tongues. uncomfortable and tough. which is why they change it to one of their own. at their convenience, of course. sophie, sophia. no thank you sir, keep your words like bourgeoisie and floccinaucinihilipilification. i will keep my name. it's my own little rebellion.

for arabic;

‎صفية. arabic is not meek. it will not shy away. these people, i have noticed, pronounce their names like they are afraid to lose them. with a heavy blow, comes the sawd (ص). it is powerful. مثل السماء. like the sky i suppose. then with a gentle breeze comes the fa (ف). it is light but with equal power it pushes the ya (ى). the ha at the end (ة) is the mic drop. saw-fee-yyah. their pauses like poetry and generosity with every word they pronounce. it is no wonder the arabs are known for their hospitality.

for urdu;

‎صفيہ. these people i have noticed, are kind to names that have been unkind to them. for you, i am a familiar face. one of your own. you are baba naming his first child at the hospital. you are mama screaming ten names before she gets to yours. you are a name that sits proudly on poems written in a language that you fail to recognize. you are soft, easy and light. there is too much love in this language for it to not love me. suf-yah. that is what you call me.

three languages call me,
but i respond to only you.