The North Star

By Anonymous

In Sanskrit, my name means Polaris, the North Star. In English my name means, well, nothing. How can one describe it? It’s like sandpaper, rough, and grainy: it’s the sound made by someone wheezing or coughing; it’s a quick burst of sound, with no tune.
It has always been a great name, but when they discourage it, it becomes hoarse and scratchy. At home, however, it’s a slice of butter, smooth and silky. When my parents say it, it’s a piece of melody, short and pleasing. If every name played a role in heaven, mine would be an endless flowing river, or a hummingbird singing one of its sweet songs.
In India, it was the name of an innocent boy, who grew up to be a great king who ruled the land for many years. After he died, he became Polaris, Dhruv in Sanskrit. Hundreds of years later, on the other side of the earth, a boy is pursuing his dream with hope and passion strengthened by his name: Dhruv. He wears it with pride and confidence, regarding it as a reminder that always motivates him to live up to his dream.

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