Zdhoorkya is more than just a word. It is a feeling, a question, and a search for identity that every girl carries within her. The name was born in a quiet moment — a gentle evening breeze, the soft sound of bangles, and a mind full of unanswered thoughts. Life gives us many titles: daughter, wife, daughter-in-law, responsibility. Each comes with its own expectations, yet none truly answer the question, “Who am I?”
In the word Zdhoorkya, my whole story is hidden. Z is for the shimmer of zari — the beauty and elegance we carry, seen in the fabric of a saree or the smile of a bride. Dhoor is for the dust — the connection to our roots, the sacred specks from a temple or the path of our childhood home. Kya is for the question — the curiosity and doubt we silently ask ourselves every day.
Zdhoorkya is the name I did not learn from anyone, but one that was always within me. It is a reminder that women are more than the roles given to them. We are not just names in someone else’s story — we are our own voice, our own identity. This name belongs to every woman who is connected to her roots but dreams of her own flight.
Zdhoorkya is not unusual. It is the truth that lives in silence — that you are not only what the world calls you, but also what you choose to be. It is both the question and the answer. And when I say, “I am Zdhoorkya,” perhaps you will find that you are too.
