Life As I Know It

A heart attack is when blood vessels that supply blood to the heart are blocked, preventing enough oxygen from getting to the heart. Classic symptoms include sudden chest pain, shortness of breath, palpitations, sweating, and anxiety, along with fatigue. I had one at the age of 20. My heat stopped. My breath stopped. My thoughts stopped. My life stopped. And the sound of the machine read a flat line. Doctors scurried and nurses swung instruments and in matter of minutes electricity shook my body till a jolt finally woke me. After I felt weak and faint. I don’t remember being able to stay conscious. The next few days were a blur, just visions of a few seconds when I’d open my eyes and see a different family member or friend near my bedside. It was then I learned the truth in my grandmothers words Morir es facil. Vivir eso toma esfuerzo. Dying was easy, living was hard. Living takes guts, perseverance, strength, courage, and  determination. You can’t possibly know where y...

Her name was Arjumand Banu Begum when she would catch the eye of young prince Khurram in a way that would shape an entire empire’s history for all eternity. His name would change to “Shah Jahan” when he became the Mughal Emperor in the year 1628, after the death of his father Emperor Jahangir. The name “Shah Jahan” comes from Persian meaning “King of the World.” He called her Mumtaz Mahal, “jewel of the palace.” A Jewel he would lose when she experienced an untimely death while giving birth to their 14th child. Heartbroken, the emperor employed over 20,000 workers and 1000 elephants for two decades in order to build a fitting monument to the depth of their love. The Monument that is now known as The Taj Mahal. Shah Jahan, the king of the world, would later be imprisoned by his own son, with his only view through the barred window of his prison being that of the great monument to his long lost wife. Till this day it stands as a symbol of eternal love. Epic Love Stories. Now I...

 “I have been an intermezzo in his life…” I say biting my lip. And she nods because she understands. It’s her story. And her heart skips a beat, and a tear falls, and the sky in the darkest shade of gray agrees with a downpour of its own rain. And we sit and watch an old 1939 movie with a story that jumps from the screen. The story portrayed is that of a concert pianist and the affair he begins with his accompanist. A story so raw, of a love so meticulously built upon the unhappiness of others. Ingrid Bergman portrays Anita, a young, naïve soul, who falls in love desperately with out a care in the world. And Leslie Howard, as Holgar Brandt, a man so talented in his craft who cant resist putting everything on the line, even his family, to fall passionately and foolishly in love with someone else. Anita soon finds that living in the shadows of their love is not enough. That living in a far away place cut off from the world, or pretending that the past doesn’t exist, will not stop...

After a lifetime of searching what every girl really wants is to ride off into the sunset in the arms of the man she loves. Love is a series of fairy tales all wrapped into one. But how you write your’s is entirely up to you. Sleeping Beauty literally bleeds when touching the end of a spindle. Though long protected by those around her doom is eminent. So on a tower she waits in deep sleep for true loves first kiss , with out knowledge of the war waging for her outside. Philip has to battle an army of villains, followed by a dangerous road, and challenge a larger than life dragon before he ever gets to see his maiden. And when he does they both know they are exactly where they belong. And it gets me thinking how sometimes life hands us terrible plots where our heart literally bleeds and our lives are crushed. After certain blows most of us wish there was a tower we could lie in and hide in. And never have to see the world and know of its heartbreak. But then if we live life in hiding,...

I stood in front of the mirror and looked at all sides of the dress. A perfect (color non-existing-other-than-in-weddings) bridesmaid dress. A chiffon, one shoulder piece that I wont regret in wearing, when on the corner of my eye I observed a soon-to-be-bride stepping up to the platform, where she proceeded to twirl, mesmerized, while her company ooed and awed. I smiled at my mom and said “always a bridesmaid never a bride”. She looked at me puzzled partly because she doesn’t understand English and because if she did I’m pretty sure she’d give me the same look. Till I was 15 I had this innocent notion of love. I seriously believed you'd meet someone, you'd fall in love, and everything would end in a happy ending. After one too many fairy tales you begin to believe that love flourishes out of thin air and background music. That you casually bump into someone at your favorite coffee shop. Your coffee spills, and you both kneel down to clean, apologizing, both look up at the ...

Sitting a cross from each other on our way back home my best friend and I find ourselves immersed in conversation:   "I wish you could shop for men like you do shoes online or the perfect dress" My friend says looking up from a magazine. I laughed. "Even better. Narrowing down the search by category, color, size, and style." "And price!" she added. "Accompanied by a Disclaimer and the Return Policy" Sometimes we search for love the way we do clothes in a catalogue. We go on a quest to find the perfect guy who measures up to everything we want. We all want that perfect breathless fit. But it is in the search that we are often misled. We misread instructions, mistake the shape and colors, and find that what we ordered isn’t at all what we wanted to end up with. On paper anyone is a sweet talker and Prince Charming. But looks can be deceiving. Behind that wonderful face can be a heart that doesn’t know how to love. So we set certain standards...

Getting over a painful experience is much like crossing the monkey bars. You have let go at some point so you can move forward… It was a long and cold lazy afternoon.  I found myself immersed in conversation with my cousin. We were sitting in the living room across from each other when he looked up from his phone and simply asked: “How do you decide to give up on someone? How do you know its time to let go?” I sipped my chamomile tea and sighed. “I don’t think you give up on the actual person. I think we give up on the circumstance. Because if you love someone, you love them unconditionally. But we’re only human. I guess we just fail when our faith gets tested.” We fall in love with love at a very young age. We live content with hand picked daisies and heart shaped letters. We welcome butterflies, dreams, and ideals. We paint castles and ever-afters. We allow our hands to be held, our deepest secrets to be known, and we share our laughter and our sorrows. We open up the w...