I was in conversation with my best friend today, and the general theme was how our lives generally suck and this year was the worst ever. A little background on that I’m in class 12th, the final year of my school life and in a few months I write the All India secondary something something. Essentially write the marching orders for the rest of my life. So yeah my parents, my school teachers my milk man etc are all very chill. NOT. Which just makes me want to rewind to the times when I didn’t have this pressure on my head.

And it’s not like I don’t like this pressure, it’s nice but it’s ALSO WAY TOO MUCH. How much do you expect a 17 year old to handle. Boys, Miley Cyrus, Master Chef Junior blah blah blah and remain perfect all the time. GOSH. It’s weird you know.

Going back to theme, I love-d being a teenager, wrote about it being my Salad days and stuff but suddenly it seems so so hounding. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m looking forward to what’s on the other side of my tests or maybe it’s the fact that Dix Sept is really trouble some.

To sum up, My golden days weren’t my childhood, aren’t my adolescence and may just be my adulthood.

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Golden Age.”

Salad Days

Sometimes I stay up till three in the night and have a multitude of thoughts in my mind. One of them very predominantly is, what I am going to do with my life. I’m in class 11th, I’m 16 years old. In a year will be writing the one thing that will most probably define, decide and describe what I am going to do with my life. It’s cold and I have psychology work to complete. (there that is all that is going on in my head)

My biggest worry now is whether I’ll be able to do without a hoodie for dinner and my responsibility is to drink my milk. I live a good life, have good friends, get to do what I like. I’m better off than most kids my age. I need to commit less hours to studies than certain kids. I don’t need to work. I’m a pampered kid. I could say a million things about my current scenario and to think  of it my whole life has been a salad day filled with a few wilted greens.

I live the lucky life.

These are my salad days.

Forever confused,

Sitara

Salad Days

Absolute Beauty (Daily Prompt challenge)

We’ve all heard that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Do you agree? is all beauty contingent on a subjective point of view?

I have a sad obsession with beauty pageants. They stand for what I will never be, tall (okay I’m 5’ 10” but), thin, pretty, clear skinned (notice how I didn’t say fair even thought that’s what sells in India’s pageants) and perfect in heels (if I could walk properly in trainers my day would be made).

“I’m not pretty, I’m beautiful.”

I sadly forget where I read this quote but it has had a deep profound impact on me. The two words, pretty and beautiful, so different but yet so similar.

The meaning for these two words according to the oxford dictionary is

Pretty- (Of a person, especially a woman or child) attractive in a delicate way without being truly beautiful:

a pretty little girl with an engaging grin

Beautiful- Pleasing the senses or mind aesthetically:

beautiful poetry a beautiful young woman

After I read that I was in shock, I always that pretty was physically pretty and beautiful, pretty from inside, from where it matters from the heart. Looks like I should just go sit in a corner and cry.

But then getting back to the question what is pretty? What is beautiful?

Isn’t beauty who you are a person and how many life’s you touch? Isn’t beauty in the eye of the beholder. Isn’t beauty only skin deep. Personally I’m of the view that beauty is the prettiness you add to the world, to the life’s you touch, the smiles you trigger. Giving beauty a name is difficult there is beauty in all of us it just needs to be triggered.

Forever confused,

Sitara

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/absolute-beauty/

Curve Balls (daily prompt challenge)

When was the last time you were completely stumped by a question, a request, or a situation you found yourself in? How did you handle it?

So couple of days ago I had quick errand to run at 10 in the night. Delhi is famously known to not be safe for girls and honestly I actually could understand why.

It was 10 in the night,

No street light .

And I found myself alone in the streets,

With strange men walking, talking and laughing.

Fear was second nature to me,

All I could see was darkness.

No car in sight,

And yet I walked in the street.

Notebook in hand,

Something’s had to be experienced first hand.

And so I reached my destination,

And readied myself for the return journey.

I told myself I was brave, that it could be done,

I had walked on those so many times before.

And so I thought, on the walk back,

Were women really that weak.

Streets in the night, With no street light,

Why were they unconquered territory?

Women are brave, smart and strong,

This seemed like Latin to me.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/curve-balls/

To-Do? Done! (Daily prompt challenge)

Quickly list five things you’d like to change in your life. Now, write a post about a day in your life once all five have been crossed off your to-do list.

Quickly list five things you’d like to change in your life. Now, write a post about a day in your life once all five have been crossed off your to-do list.

1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

“Why do we constantly aim for perfection, when perfection is what we want to see. “ (im such a hypocrite)

Just a 16 year old, sitting on a dirty pile of clothes on what should be her bed, blogging.  That’s what a day in my life would be when I achieve perfection.

Cause what is perfection? Sure isn’t pokey hip bones.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/to-do-done/