It was just another weekend when I went out with my family to one of our regular dining spots. We ordered some South Indian delicacies and, while waiting for the food, casually scrolled through my smartphone. That’s when Rajesh, an old friend,walked in.
Y. V. Rajesh, a filmmaker with several scripts to his credit, and I had not met in ages. We exchanged pleasantries, spoke for a while, and soon, our food arrived. Rajesh found another place to sit nearby.
As we began tasting the food, he suddenly turned toward me and said, “Arabind, sorry, I didn’t tell you something! I’ve given your name to one of my reel characters. I didn’t ask for your permission. I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t!”
I was intrigued and asked him which movie and what character he was referring to. His response shocked me — the character was played by Mammootty, named Arvind Chandrasekhar, in the malayalam movie Silence!
Until then, my wife and daughters weren’t paying attention to our conversation. But when they heard this, my elder daughter looked at me in disbelief and murmured, “Is your name really given to a character played by Mammootty?”
I just smiled at her, but she still couldn’t believe it and kept asking the same question to her mother. On the other hand, I was also surprised — if Rajesh hadn’t mentioned it, I would have never known. Deep inside, I was grateful to Rajesh for thinking of me when naming that character.
As I drove back home, my daughters expressed how immensely proud they were of me and my name. In that moment, amidst all the excitement, I found myself silently thanking one person — my father.
Ever since I can remember, my father has been a man of books. He had an undying love for literature especailly Bengali.He read widely like politics, religion, and current affairs. His evenings and weekends were often spent reading. He wanted to name his firstborn after the revolutionary leader, thinker, and Indian nationalist Sri Aurobindo Ghosh.
When it was time for me to start school, my father insisted that my name remain Aurobindo. But when my mother took me for admission, the teacher looked at her in disbelief.“The name doesn’t sound normal,” she said. The Bengali name was unfamiliar, and she cautioned my mother about the challenges her son might face in the future. She suggested changing it to Aravind instead. My mother stood her ground, but a compromise was reached — the name became Arabind, a slight modification that removed the Bengali intonation. My father agreed.
Even though my name is Arabind, people have always called me Aravind — a name they find more familiar. I always wrote my name correctly in my notebooks and textbooks, yet most people only noticed the difference when they saw it on social media. Some even assumed I had changed it later! That’s when I would share the story behind my name.
I’ve always felt my name was different. People often ask about the ‘B’ in it, and it has always served as a conversation starter.
Interestingly, many assume I’m Bengali because of my name. Whenever I travel, people ask if I’m from Bengal!
“What’s in a name?” is a famous line from Shakespeare. While some may argue that a name doesn’t matter, I believe every name holds a unique identity and a story.
Names also invite judgment and assumptions. I’ve had my fair share of experiences in hospitals, institutions, and even government offices where my name was miswritten despite being clearly stated.
People have written my name as Aravind, Arvind, Aravindhan, and even Aravinth. I vividly remember a careless village officer who recorded my name as Aravind on my marriage certificate. When I pointed out the mistake, he shrugged and said, “It’s already written. Nothing can be done now.” Feeling helpless, I walked away. If this had happened today, I would have taken it to social media or filed a complaint with higher authorities!
Looking back, a name is more than just a label — it’s a reflection of history, identity, and the values we carry forward. Mine is a tribute to a great revolutionary, a symbol of my father’s ideals, and a constant reminder of the legacy I uphold.
From casual mispronunciations to an unexpected moment of recognition in cinema, my name has taken on a life of its own. And yet, through it all, I have always embraced it with pride.
As my father enjoys his well-earned retirement, I find myself increasingly grateful — not just for the name he gave me, but for the principles and strength it represents. If a name carries a story, then mine is one I will always be proud to tell.
At the end of the day, the pertinent question remains — what’s in a name? The answer is, quite a lot. A name carries history, identity, and meaning. It shapes perceptions, sparks conversations, and sometimes even leaves a legacy. Names hold significance, and in many ways, they make us whole.