Zora Would Have Been Five Today

Today would have been beautiful Zora’s fifth birthday.

Last night I was driving from Cambridgeshire to Bedfordshire with Lévy beside me, her soulmate, her co-parent, her other half, and I found myself thinking: It’s time to write this. Not just because I’ve been meaning to, but because I had to. I’ve learned that grief doesn’t always move through silence; sometimes it needs to be voiced. So I’m voicing it.

Those who know me know I believe in the sanctity of ritual. In the rhythm of life, and, of death, which I’ve now come to know far more intimately than I ever wished to. When Zora left this world on May 27, 2025, just hours after Connor’s 25th birthday, I didn’t make an announcement. Not out of denial, but out of reverence. I needed to honour her crossing in the quiet way she deserved. With dignity. With memory. With space.

Zora wasn’t just Dr. Vidhi’s & my doggo (Zora H. Lalchand was her name). She was the closest thing I have known to a daughter. She was Lévy’s beloved, the mother of the Lyor-Zéva bloodline, Max, Nova, Homi, and Temple, and the light of Connor’s heart. She was love incarnate. Profound. Dignified. Joyful. Fiercely loyal. Everyone’s favourite. She was born Pavlova (after the famous Ballerina, renowned for creating the role of the Dying Swan), but when she came to us in January, she became Zora, “Dawn”, the Dawn Dancer. And from that moment on, she illuminated our lives.

Every year, we celebrated her birthday with care (Zora Turns 3). This year, we didn’t do a grand event but a private cake cutting (the puppers loved it; Unicorns & Rainbows are Zora’s motif), but it didn’t matter. Her birthday is carved into the calendar of my soul. It is her day.

I’ve cried more in the last few months than in my entire adult life. And yet, I remain grateful. Grateful that she came to us. Grateful she chose us. Grateful for the legacy she leaves behind. I know some people dismiss mourning a doggo as an indulgence. But Zora was transcendent. She had a soul that stirred others. She taught me love, companionship, and what it means to protect something pure.

Her absence reshaped our household. Homi and Temple carry her regal bearing🪬, her DNA 🧬 , her look 🧿 and her Divine Fire 🔥 (my Zoroastrian ancestors believed in that and I do too). Lévy still carries her in his every glance. And we, the humans she loved and raised, continue on, sometimes broken, sometimes brave, with her memory as our compass.

This is not the last time I will write about her. There will be more to come. Her third birthday post from two years ago is linked above but last year celebration was memorable too and next year’s will be as well. Her elevation in May, her memorial in June, her Chehelom in July (the ancient Shi’ite Persian custom of remembering someone, 40days after their wings have soared), now her birthday in August. Four sacred months. A spiritual triptych. A legend unfolding.

I ask myself often: Why did she have to go? But I’ve seen the signs. Zora was too radiant for this world. And I believe God, the Great Sculptor, the Ultimate Gardener, wanted her returned. Not out of punishment, but because she had fulfilled her duty. She had given us more than most beings give in several lifetime. In my Bahá’í Faith, Death is seen as a Messenger of Joy.

Now, she is our guardian angel. The heartbeat behind BRAHM. The eternal flame in our House. And her love, the kind that does not end at death, is what carries us forward.

Happy birthday, my beloved Zora.

You are missed. You are cherished.

You are forever ours.

Beyond the 🌈 Bridge; wait for us our Beloved, as you play by the Sacred Lote Tree سِدْرَة ٱلْمُنْتَهَىٰ, under God’s Great Shadow, with 🦄s & Leprechauns.

The Creator elevates you to an Angelic Being over us; the Legend of Zora.