My name is...

"You're gorgeous!" says a visiting adult to resident 4 year old.
"No! I'm Nadiyah!" comes the reply. "And your name is Nesha" she screamed as she rushed at me when I opened the door to the house today. Actually, Nesha is only my middle name, but it is the name I am known in the the household... It is easier to remember being a really common name in their community. It is funny how names can function- to negotiate between the familiar and the unfamiliar and provide a comfort zone.

My other name is just an Arabic word. So far, the only other person I have come across with the same name is a MAN in Pakistan... But I like it. I would rather be called Meezan than Nesha because even though I thew it away once (Yes, this sounds absurd, but it's true!) it has become comfortable- like the pair of Gap jeans I bought the summer I spent in Toronto. Nesha makes me feel like the title of two of the entries in this blog - a poser! Like I am trying to claim something of my father's family - an elusive thing that has never truly been available to me.

I was someone else before, too! Before I was Nesha, and Meezan (and after I was Meezan the first time), I was Marianne... Don't laugh! But I would prefer that you call me gorgeous to Marianne!