Dhruvan looked at the door to his new classroom at his new school. Room 9, his favorite number. He was excited to start First Grade. He walked into the classroom and found the desk with his name written on it in big, bold, letters: DHRUVAN. 

DHRUVAN

As his classmates found their desks and settled in, the teacher began to welcome the class. 

“Hi, friends. My name is Mrs. Smith. I am so happy to have you in our First Grade Class! We are going to have so much fun this year, but first I will take roll to learn your names.”

Dhruvan took a deep breath. He knew what was coming.

“Here we go again,” sighed Dhruvan. 

Mrs. Smith 

First Grade

“Samantha?” 

“Here!”

“Matthew?”

“Here!”

“D--D--Dr--”

“Dhruvan. My name is Dhruvan.”

Mrs. Smith laughed nervously and said, “Oh, thank you, D--Dhruvan,” Mrs. Smith says the name like she was unsure, like the name didn’t fit. “I’m sorry sweetie, I am terrible with difficult names like that.”

The rest of Dhruvan’s classmates laugh. Dhruvan felt his cheeks turn red.

Later that day at lunch, Matthew and David sat next to Dhruvan. Dhruvan pulled out his blue lunchbox, unzipped it, and looked at his lunch. Naan bread and Tikka Masala, Dhruvan’s favorite.

Matthew made a face towards Dhruvan’s lunch.

“What is that red stuff, Doovan?” 

“It’s Tikka Masala! It’s my favorite.”

“Oh, okay,” Matthew said and turned away. Matthew and David compared lunches. 

“Matching PB&J! Nice!” The boys laughed and gave each other a high five. 

Dhruvan looked down at his food, feeling much less excited about his favorite meal . They don’t like my food and still don’t know my name. Why do I have to be so different? Dhruvan thought to himself.

Dhruvan’s Dad arrives at the end of the day to pick him up. 

“How was the first day of school?” 

Dhruvan climbs in the car silently and with his head down. After a long pause, he says, “I’m so different from everyone else. No one likes my food. No one likes my name. Even Mrs. Smith says my name is difficult! Why did you name me Dhruvan?”

Dhruvan’s dad looks at him and gently says, “Your name holds great meaning. My dad, your grandpa, was named Dhruvan. Daada Dhruvan was a remarkable person, very caring, thoughtful, and kind, just like you. Your name also holds symbolic meaning. The name ‘Dhruvan’ means ‘star being blessed by God.’ We gave you this name because it makes you, you. No one can ever take that away from you. Now, let’s get home, I have a surprise for you for dinner.”

Dhruvan walks into the kitchen and sees all of the ingredients to make Tikka Masala. Dhruvan’s dad says, “Daada Dhruvan taught me how to make this, and now I want to teach you, too.”

“Thanks, Dad!” Dhruvan says, gleaming. “This is my FAVORITE!”

“Wanna know a secret?”

“What secret?”

Dhruvan’s Dad smiles and says, “This was Daada Dhruvan’s favorite, too.”