A few weeks ago, I changed my car number plate to KRISHNA, and the reaction on Mauritian roads has been something I did not fully anticipate. Heads turn. People slow down. Strangers smile or stare. I paid a significant sum for this KRISHNA number plate, and I will not pretend otherwise. But the story behind this decision is not about vanity, status, or wanting to be seen. It is about something far quieter, far more personal, and in many ways, far more demanding than any public gesture could ever convey. These are the five reasons I carry my name on the road, and why I believe every one of them matters.
The first morning I drove through the streets with KRISHNA on my plate, I felt something unexpected: a quiet sense of weight. Not the weight of pride, but the weight of responsibility. A man on a motorbike caught a glimpse and nodded. A woman at a junction looked twice. Someone at a roundabout in Quatre Bornes read it aloud to the person beside them.
I am a life coach, a leadership consultant, and a corporate trainer. I work every day with questions of identity, character, and conscious living. So this was never a spontaneous decision. It was considered, layered, and deeply intentional. Let me explain why, honestly and humbly.
1. Lord Krishna Is My Greatest Inspiration
I grew up immersed in the stories of Lord Krishna, not as distant mythology, but as a living philosophy that has walked quietly beside every chapter of my life. The Bhagavad Gita, Lord Krishna’s timeless counsel to Arjuna on the battlefield of Kurukshetra, remains one of the most psychologically profound texts I have ever encountered. It speaks of dharma, of equanimity under pressure, of acting without attachment to outcomes, and of seeing clearly when everything around you is obscured by fear or confusion.
As a coach, I return to these teachings constantly. The principle of nishkama karma, which means selfless action untethered from ego-driven expectation, is something I aspire to in my practice and my relationships. Having KRISHNA on my number plate is a daily act of reverence. It is my moving tribute to the source of wisdom that has shaped how I think, how I lead, and how I try to love.
It is the simplest form of gratitude I know how to show while navigating a traffic island.
2. The Name Keeps Me Vigilant, Cautious, and Accountable on the Road
Here is where things become genuinely interesting, and psychologically layered. When your own name sits on your number plate, recklessness becomes almost impossible to justify. I am acutely aware that if I cut someone off, tailgate a slow driver, or jump an amber light, someone on the road might say, “Did you see how KRISHNA was driving?” The name follows me, quite literally.
This has a real foundation in what psychologists call self-concept salience, meaning the degree to which your sense of identity is consciously activated in a given moment. When your identity is made visible in your environment, you are significantly more likely to behave in alignment with the values you associate with that identity. Neuroscientists describe this pattern as identity-congruent behaviour: you act in ways that match who you believe yourself to be, especially when that identity is front-of-mind.
Driving in Mauritius is, to put it diplomatically, a daily spiritual exercise. The KRISHNA plate reminds me, every single day, to be patient, to be responsible, and to model the conduct I ask of others in my workshops and coaching rooms. It would be deeply hypocritical to preach emotional regulation and then lean on the horn at someone who hesitated for half a second at a green light.
3. Visibility as a Form of Ethical Commitment
There is something quietly radical about carrying your name in public space. Most number plates are anonymous. Mine is not. In a society where anonymity frequently emboldens poor behaviour, whether on the road, on social media, or in organisations, the KRISHNA plate is my deliberate choice to be seen and, therefore, to be held to account.
Psychologists refer to a cognitive pattern known as the spotlight effect, which describes our tendency to overestimate how much others notice us. But when you intentionally place your name in a visible public arena, you invert this entirely. You choose to be seen, and in doing so, you accept the full weight of that visibility. It is, in essence, a form of character work done in public.
I sometimes sit with a question I suspect many of us avoid: if your name followed you everywhere, would you drive differently? Would you speak differently? Would you treat people differently?
4. A Daily Priming Ritual Disguised as a Number Plate
Every morning when I walk to my car and see KRISHNA on the plate, something subtle but significant happens in my mind before the engine even starts. Neuroscientists call this the priming effect: an environmental cue that activates related thoughts, values, and behavioural intentions in the moments that follow. Priming, in simple terms, means that what you see shapes how you think, and how you think shapes how you act.
So before I pull out of my driveway, I have already been nudged toward patience, care, and purposeful conduct. It functions, in its own modest way, as a morning intention-setting ritual. In my coaching practice, I often encourage clients to create what I call environmental anchors, physical objects, words, or images placed deliberately in their everyday space to keep their values visible and active. The KRISHNA number plate is mine.
5. Living Up to a Name Is the Hardest Work of All
Names carry extraordinary weight. Research in developmental psychology has explored a concept called nominative determinism, the idea that people are drawn, consciously or otherwise, toward identities, roles, and behaviours that reflect the meaning of their name. While the science remains debated, the philosophical principle holds something worth sitting with: what we choose to be named, or to be associated with, gradually shapes the person we become.
KRISHNA is not simply my given name. It is a call toward wisdom, compassion, non-violence, courage, and service. Each time I see it on the road, I am reminded that I have not fully arrived at those ideals, and that is precisely the point. Humility is not the absence of ambition. It is the honest recognition that growth is a lifelong road, not a destination you park at.
Carrying a name you aspire to live up to is far more demanding than carrying a name you have already mastered. It keeps you honest, and it keeps you moving.
A Plate, a Prayer, and a Promise
I did not change my number plate to KRISHNA to be noticed. I changed it to notice myself more clearly, and more often. It cost me a considerable amount of money, yes. But what it returns to me daily, a prompt toward better conduct, a visible spiritual commitment, a reminder of humility and accountability, a priming cue before every journey, is worth every rupee.
If this story raises one question in you, I hope it is this: what name, value, or symbol would you carry visibly into the world if you had to live up to it every single day?
Because the most important journey, as Lord Krishna himself understood, is never the one on the road. It is always the one within.
