My Name is a Form of Resistance

My name is a form of resistance

Against the anglicization and exotification

Of a body and a struggle

You don’t even have the syllables to comprehend.

My name is a form of resistance

Because my mother named me for my Homeland.

She named me to belong no matter where my feet would find me.


My name is a form of resistance

Because I was blessed in birth

To embody an oral history kissed to my forehead like a prayer

Joining Air and Earth to Flesh and Blood.


My name is a form of resistance

Because it means hope and aspiration in Sanskrit

across the Crimson scars you have left

on the faces of those who have tried to Rise.


My name is a form of resistance so

just because you cannot pronounce it

Does not give you the right to dismiss it or erase it

And then make me feel like suddenly it doesn’t fit.

Because I respond to my name,

Battle cries, I take charge in my name.

I am blessed unlike those who don’t need a face and story

To ground them to a history they see everywhere

I am visible in my name

So no, I don’t have a nickname.

For I will not shorten or adjust even a bit of myself

To fit the capacity you have to stomach Me.

And my nine letters can spell

more defiance, more passion, more fire

than you will ever be able to extinguish.

My name is a form of resistance

because I was named for a purpose.

And like all things that have a purpose,

I will not rest until mine on this earth is fulfilled.


So I will tell my stories,

I will them for they need to be heard,

And I invite pride to come into the hearts

Of those who wait submerged

For my name is a form of resistance.

And in it, I am empowered,

Loud, and clear.

Aakanksha John



Aakanksha John