My life turned upside down on a fateful day 11 years back. The day was September 11, 2001. A day, I am sure, no one would forget. I used to work on the 95th floor of the north tower. I was in the elevator when I heard a deep rumbling sound and acting on my instinct I decided to get out. I guess, that’s the first time my instinct got me into trouble. The moment I opened the door, I was hit a by a huge fireball. How I got out of the crumbling building and how I survived the burns is a mystery and a miracle. My whole body is covered with burn marks, but still I consider myself lucky because I am alive. My heart goes out for all the people who could not make it or lost someone special. I know many people who are embarrassed because of their burn marks, but I am not. I wear my burn marks proudly because they prove that I am a survivor and not a quitter. Over the past few years I have met and read about many burn survivors and one who really inspires me is Lisa Burt. She once said, “We all have flaws, as burn survivors…we just wear ours on the outside.”

Too much of anything can be bad and the same goes for love. I was 21 when I broke up with my boyfriend. He is the kind of boyfriend that you think exists only in movies and soap operas. He was insecure, jealous and a control freak. In retrospect, I think I should have seen it coming. He used his cigarette lighter and deodorant to burn me when I broke up with him. In a matter of seconds my whole face was engulfed in flames and I was writhing in pain. Luckily for me, there were people around me who ensured that I got immediate medical attention. My ex boyfriend is now in prison. My life is not the same now and neither is my face. I have learnt some valuable lessons in life, met other burn victims. I am grateful that I am alive and have a strong support system.

Life is unpredictable. You can be prepared, but you can never be prepared enough. I am a single mother and I make sure that my child is safe, that my home is safe. But, I don’t know what happened on that fateful night 10 years back. I went to bed after making sure that my then 18 months old baby was fast asleep. The next thing I remember is waking up in a hospital room, with 85% percent of my body covered in third and second degree burns. But, the most painful part was not knowing whether my baby was alive or not. By god’s grace, he is. I believe he survived the fire unscathed, so that I would have some reason to live. In the past 10 years, I have had some excruciatingly painful surgeries. But I have not given up. I am now far more independent and resilient. I am a counselor in school now and bring hope to people. I have a fulfilling job and a son who loves me to death in spite of my scars. 

Birthdays are supposed to be days you would love to remember. I am not sure if I do. My best friend met with a ghastly accident when she was on her way to my birthday party. It was raining that day; her car hydroplaned and hit an electricity pole. I am glad that she is alive and that she is a strong person. That accident left her with third degree burns on her chest, neck and face. I am 17 today, and I know now that outward beauty does not matter. What matters are the strength, patience and faith you have. I have been with her throughout her recovery period and I know it requires iron will and hard work to get your life back on track. Never once did she blame god, never once did she blame her fate. She, in fact, thanked god for letting her live. She was an optimist before and even more so now. If my 16 year old friend can come out smiling after such a macabre tragedy, I think anyone can overcome anything. 

It happened when I was having a quite lunch with my family at a seaside restaurant. A girl, around 10 years old, looked at me and made a face as if she was nauseated. I am used to it. I am 17 years old and sixty percent of my body is covered with burn injuries. When you look at my face, all you would see is loose pink skin hanging and lips so swollen and reddish that you might equate them with a Botox job gone terribly wrong. I am not here to seek sympathy, I have come to terms with my life. I just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. I believe God chose me, because I am strong and I have a loving family. I have had corrective surgeries in the last two years and each day is fraught with pain, but I am not down and out yet. I am glad I am still alive and can still do whatever I want to do. I am grateful to my family and for the handful of people who look at me and smile. For those who can’t, I understand.