In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “My Hero.”

‘My Hero’, two words, deep deep meaning. I suppose everyone has had a hero or at least dreamt of  one. In my life, I cannot give a particular person the title of ‘My Hero’ since in different stages of my life there has been a different hero, and all who were there for me when I most needed.

The person who I consider my first hero was my grandfather. In his own quiet way, he influenced the greatest part of my childhood , taught me to appreciate love, honesty and the things that matter most. From my childhood memories, the ones I remember extremely well and cherish wholeheartedly are of my grandfather and me. To this day I give his memory all the good that I am.

I know that the term ‘hero’ normally refers to a human and not to an object, but the second thing that was and still is my hero is a book. My books made me who I am today. When I needed distraction from my thoughts and I picked up a book, all I felt was peace. I still do

My third hero is my mother, for making education the first and foremost thing in my childhood and making sure that we always pursued knowledge by taking us to the library once a week, banning computers completely except for a half an hour on the weekends and not keeping a television at home. Though it may seem harsh and horrible(which it was sometimes) it made us(me and my siblings)put our whole effort and time towards educating ourselves thus making us better humans.

My fourth hero is not a single human but a large amount of humans. My students(I volunteer teach slum children). When I am with them, I feel free and happy. I feel thankful for the life I have. And most of all, I feel thankful that God made me see beyond the walls.

My fifth hero, again not a single human but a group of humans. My friends, who tell me to my face when I do something wrong and who support me unconditionally when I need them.

My sixth hero, again is a group of humans.My lecturers at university who went beyond their jobs to encourage me to work to my best and to explore knowledge, and when culture and society deemed unfairly that I stop pursing my higher education and become a house-maker, they stood by me always, emotionally and physically. They were there to listen to my unhappiness and to offer me solace, They were there to call my parents and urge them to let me to continue my education, they were there to make me see the silver lining in every cloud.

My sixth hero is my grandmother, the person who gives me age old, wise guidance, who thought me to read the good and the bad in people and to be smart. overall.

My hero


“They don’t tell you that they’re building you up just to try to knock you down”

Anybody can relate to that wonderful sentence from Taylor Swift, I don’t care much for Taylor Swift songs. Romance and love stories are not me. But that sentence relates to me and everybody else out there. People will literally kiss a** as long as you do what they want and by what they think is right. When you try to be yourself, they are just going to knock you down. They most probably will.    But you need to bounce back where you use your emotion as a fuel to bounce back harder. 




My heart was full of sadness for a long long time.The voices in my head used to make me feel like dirt. My mind was confused and unsteady. I agreed to everything everybody said. And disagreed with nothing. I never though about myself. All my feelings were covered with a polite smile.

Finally about a year ago I was determined to find myself and I did. I blocked my ears and my heart. I listened to who i wanted to listen and agreed with who I wanted to agree. I voiced my disagreement. I distanced myself from negative and conniving people. And I smiled when my heart wanted to smile.

I felt happy. I felt sad too.

I needed to agree and disagree with family.  And family did not want to be disagreed with. Disdain showed in people.


I had freed my heart. And it was soaring.


Gracias. My Abuela. You taught me the world. The good and the bad. And made me find the confidence to be me.

Thank you.





What are we supposed to do and feel? When the people closest to your heart make the most insane decisions and give the worst advice ever, judge you and label you, when you try to show them the sheer absurdness of their decisions.

My heart bleeds. How am I supposed to do otherwise?.

God please help us.

Blogging again after so long. College work, Chores, Volunteer work and Family and Boredom. How is one supposed to fit all this in 24 hours without going crazy?.

I have a question… How do you fit boredom in 24 hours?






Where Children Sleep- James Mollison

“Where Children Sleep – stories of diverse children around the world, told through portraits and pictures of their bedrooms. When Fabrica asked me to come up with an idea for engaging with children’s rights, I found myself thinking about my bedroom: how significant it was during my childhood, and how it reflected what I had and who I was. It occurred to me that a way to address some of the complex situations and social issues affecting children would be to look at the bedrooms of children in all kinds of different circumstances. From the start, I didn’t want it just to be about ‘needy children’ in the developing world, but rather something more inclusive, about children from all types of situations. It seemed to make sense to photograph the children themselves, too, but separately from their bedrooms, using a neutral background. My thinking was that the bedroom pictures would be inscribed with the children’s material and cultural circumstances ‘ the details that inevitably mark people apart from each other ‘ while the children themselves would appear in the set of portraits as individuals, as equals ‘ just as children. This is a selection from the 56 diptychs in the book (Chris Boot November 2010). The book is written and presented for an audience of 9-13 year olds ‘ intended to interest and engage children in the details of the lives of other children around the world, and the social issues affecting them, while also being a serious photographic essay for an adult audience”.