Understand me. Understand me not.

I'm angry. Not grumpy angry, spewing foul words angry. angry at certain administrative figures otherwise known as morons of the highest order.They try to do what they think is right for us, like they even know us, like they even have the slightest idea of what we deal with in our daily adolescent lives.They force the problems they faced when they were teens (probably a few hundred years ago) and try to think of us as miniature avatars of them. Well, I've got news for them - WE ARE NOT. Today's fast - paced, goal-driven cut throat lives have a vastly different effect on us than it had on them. They might be trying to help but they aren't doing a very good job of it. They shuffle us and our friends with the mere excuse that "you will make new friends"....seriously make new friends have you seen the world lately? Look closer, there are more cliques and status quo-s  then you can count on your fingers and life isn't a rendition of High School Musical..no it is more of a slightly happy version of Nightmare on Elm Street.
                                                It is so freaking hard for anyone to understand us teens, and there has got to be a reason,right? Clear your heads full with memories of YOUR teenage times and open your eyes to ours without judgement and maybe you'll have a chance to understand. But seriously, who even cares about some rant of a furious teenager on the internet after they found out how they were being placed in a totally different class from their friends?
 Signing off
I Seriously Don't Care.

Survival of the Stationary...

I haven't posted anything for a very, very long time and I guess that gave me perspective instead of using this site as a virtual and very public substitute for a diary. I went on a trip to Central India with my friends, I found a love for debating and passed the eight grade.
I think for this post I'll just focus on the foremost. So, for the first time in my short life my parents sent me on this trip with my school to Gwalior, Orccha and Jhansi.I had to take care of myself which in itself wasn't that much of a big deal, some crappy food, long, winding hours on the road driving from one dusty, hot place to another but I'm just grumbling here, there were real pros too.......being with friends and bunking with them is definitely not boring and all those silly little pranks that one plays when there are only two adults on the hotel floor were played to the max!
                 We went to these really ancient forts which used to house an array of princesses, queens, kings, some evil, some decent but they all fought and you could see the signs of all those tumultuous, never ending wars showing on the once pretty palaces. Those sapphires and emeralds so laid with so much care and effort were mercilessly looted from the walls of the queen's palace and in the basement of the Gwalior fort once used to have eight swing sets for the kings eight queens but the later emperors ransacked the lush, extravagant room and turned it into the very opposite intent with which it was built, a torture chamber.
                And almost in every town we went and every old site we saw, the untamed wilderness had crept into the finely manicured gardens of Aurangzeb's age, there were bare rooms with little, empty slots were we're told that diamonds used to lay.The walls had turned yellow, wolves and dogs had taken a habit to strolling across those stately courtyards but despite it all, those enormous, aged monuments had survived war after war, famine and drought alike, those dome topped historical beauties had a way of poking through the wild trees and shrubs as if telling you that 'It doesn't matter what you put around me or in me , I have survived mare than a few centuries and I'll find a way to survive the next few.'
               I think they will.