When I was little, my dad used to call me 'Bandarella,' because I

“When I was little, my dad used to call me ‘Bandarella,’ because I was a mess — a Bandar is a monkey in Hindi. I was not a girly-girl and would always break something and would be running around and didn’t really fit in.” — Priyanka Chopra

In these playful yet profound words, Priyanka Chopra recalls a time of innocence and imperfection — a childhood filled with motion, curiosity, and rebellion. Yet behind the laughter and mischief lies a truth as old as humanity: that those who do not fit in often grow to reshape the world. Her father’s affectionate nickname, “Bandarella,” meaning “little monkey,” was not an insult, but a badge of untamed spirit — the early mark of a soul unwilling to be confined. Where others saw disorder, her father saw potential; where others might have tried to quiet her, he smiled at her wildness.

For in every age, the unruly child has been the seed of change. The ancients would have called such spirits “fire-hearted.” They break the toys of convention because they were born to build new worlds. From the time of Socrates, who questioned the laws of Athens, to Galileo, who challenged the heavens themselves, the ones who do not fit neatly into expectation are the ones who later redefine it. Chopra’s childhood mischief, her restless energy, was not chaos — it was the early stirring of individuality, that sacred flame which drives the courageous to live as their true selves.

To be a “Bandarella,” in this sense, is to live in joyous defiance of narrow definitions. It is to run when the world says sit, to climb when the world says stay grounded, to laugh when others measure decorum. Priyanka’s words remind us that the spirit of freedom, though messy, is beautiful — that authenticity often begins as disorder. The child who falls, who breaks, who questions, is the one who learns not fear but resilience. Her story whispers to every soul that ever felt out of place: your difference is not your flaw; it is your destiny.

The ancient Greeks told of Artemis, the goddess who refused to be confined by the expectations of womanhood. She roamed forests, wielded her bow, and guarded her freedom fiercely. In her, the ancients saw the beauty of independence, the holiness of strength. Priyanka Chopra’s “Bandarella” spirit is of the same lineage — a child not molded by norms but by adventure. In every scrape and tumble, she learned courage; in every reprimand, she learned persistence; in every moment of not fitting in, she was slowly being carved into the woman who would one day stand fearless before the world.

And yet, the lesson is not only for the bold, but for the parents, the teachers, the elders who raise the young. When a child is wild, it is easy to wish them still; when they are different, it is tempting to mold them into sameness. But wisdom teaches otherwise. Encourage the spirit rather than confine it, for in the child’s chaos may dwell a future leader, artist, or visionary. Chopra’s father, who saw laughter in her mess and love in her energy, gave her the gift of acceptance — and that gift became her foundation for confidence, courage, and self-belief.

We live in an age that prizes neatness — tidy homes, tidy manners, tidy thoughts. But the truth is that the human spirit is not meant to be tidy. It is meant to explore, to err, to climb too high and fall, to wander and discover. From such untidiness comes genius, from such imperfection comes greatness. Let every person remember: before there was the poised actress, there was the little Bandarella running wild — and it was she who carried within her the courage to become more than the world expected.

So, O listener, learn this lesson well: Do not fear being different. Do not fear being imperfect. The world will try to shape you, but the divine has already done so in its own way. Be the Bandarella in your own story — curious, bold, and unapologetically alive. Break what must be broken: the chains of fear, the cages of conformity, the silence of doubt. For those who run free as children learn to walk tall as adults, and those who once didn’t fit in often become the ones the world cannot live without.