Krishna—spoken gently as KRISH-nuh—takes its first breath in ancient Sanskrit, where it evokes the velvety blues and purples of twilight (“dark-hued,” “all-attractive”), yet it travels far beyond the banks of the Yamuna, drifting westward like a slow bolero that slips from plaza to plaza under a crescent moon. Woven into Hindu lore as the flute-playing shepherd whose laughter turns the cosmos, the name carries aromas of jasmine nights, sacred cows, and constellations reflected in river water; at the same time, its unisex grace lets it rest easily on any cradle, boy or girl, like a silken rebozo warming a newborn’s skin. To hear Krishna is to feel a story unfold—of divine mischief, of boundless compassion, of love that pirouettes through centuries—yet on today’s playgrounds from Austin to Albuquerque, it belongs just as naturally beside Mateo or Luna, proof that a name born in Vedic hymns can still dance to a Latin rhythm beneath the American sun.
| Krishna Shah - |
| Krishna Das - |
| Krishna Venta - |
| Krishna Mohan Banerjee - |
| Krishna Kohli - |
| Krishna Bose - |
| Krishna Srinivas - |
| Krishna Vamsi - |
| Krishna Nagar - |
| Krishna Prasad Garaga - |