My last name is Lokhandwala. It roughly translates to “iron seller-guy.”1
While forms of surnames existed in India for centuries, they were formalized under British colonial rule. Our community primarily consisted of Gujarati Muslim merchants – and we were named after our wares.
Lokhand (iron) + wala (seller-person) became “Lokhandwala.”
I’m not sure when the business first began. But I do know that my great-grandfather turned a shop selling iron and steel into a local empire. Rows of godowns2 were filled with inventory. And it was a family affair, not run without drama. Sibling rivalries and questionable investments added a certain chaotic color to life.
But it was theirs. In a way, it was ours, too.
I used to think that working with family or friends was dangerous. Business is a fickle friend, and money can destroy relationships. I had internalized the way corporations run business. I admired the speed, tenacity, and even ruthlessness involved.
To be ambitious, I thought, we must lean into total independence. Everyone’s role had to be discrete. Predictable. Emotionless. If I had to depend on anyone, it would be those whose loyalties lay with coin, not community.
When I joined tech companies to understand their systems, I was surprised to find that I derived more satisfaction from building bonds with my colleagues.
Nine months in Asia took this insight to a new level.
I saw Taiwanese shopkeepers training their nephews, Malaysian daughters who steered into new markets, Turkish cousins opening doors for each other. I was a quiet witness to the dance they maintained between life’s messiness and the nuts and bolts of making a living.
All the while, I was reminded of my family back in Boston. The raucous laughter and impassioned debates. There’s something about the family’s energy I discerned – something ineffable. It carries a deeper purpose and resilience than traditional corporate structures.
This summer, after months in Asia, the plane’s wheels touched down. The glimmering Massachusetts bay greeted us, bidding us stay, welcoming us home. My intention was to find footing while staying true to the compass that had led to and sustained my travels.
I sought a dedication to craft, tinkering, and service. The obvious play was to get another software engineering job, chugging along a clear cut trajectory.3 But my inner ambition craved a game more infinite.
During my travels, a niggling idea had surfaced. What if I could come back to the States and not need to get another job? What if I could work with my family?
I’m a product-minded, business-background software engineer. Kaamil also builds software – but has a bend toward game development and visually animated frontends. Nabeel produces media – with a speciality in video production and editing.
After signing a contract with a local business, the three of us found ourselves at the helm of a new venture. At the intersection of our skillsets, an aptly named LokBros Studio harmonizes media production and software development.
A typical reaction I get when I tell people I’m working with my brothers is one of mild shock. This must be a difficult and hairy endeavor, they tell me.
They’re not entirely wrong. Life takes on a distinct flavor when work and family life intermingle. It’s not as simple as clocking in and clocking out. There are days where our heads are consumed in so much work that one of us has to break it up and throw down some boundaries. “We can work on this for five more minutes… then let’s watch some anime.”
But despite the challenges of weaving in and out of a family-working context, we understand that LokBros Studio represents something more than a path to financial independence. It’s sacred ground to create novel digital experiences in the 21st century – all while following the footsteps of our forefathers.
Years ago, Dad would daydream about creating a “Lokhandwala and Sons” – but I always scoffed at the idea.
Today, his dream is mine, too.
Big thank you to Dad, , , , , , , and for feedback and discussions on this piece.
The funner, less accurate translation is “iron man.”
A term used for storage facilities like warehouses. It’s commonly used in South Asia.
This is very special. Excited for you and your family!
Well niggle is certainly a fun little word, granted it means to pester and annoy lol.
Love the surname lore. Iron man is hilarious haha. Somehow my family on both ends escaped the "something" wala last name.
I think a family business can really be a great thing if done with goodness of heart. Besides anime breaks and workhour boundaries, there are probably steps that can be taken to safeguard each other from human vice. It happens to the best of us. I don't know what they are, but I reckon it's something like a prenuptial.
As Muslims we have a duty to do right by others, so as long as everyone involved tried to follow the compass of taqwa and trying to please God, all will turn out well!
Now, what're some of your favorite animes?