An excerpt of an essay written by my 15-year old sister:

Zehara means a myriad of things. Introverted at times, extroverted at others. Mood switches, unsent letters and the glass is half empty. It means a conscious decision to always be undecided. Laughing while crying, running in the rain and singing off key. Spending too much time worrying about living and not enough time breathing. It means being scared of ordinary. Zehara means running full speed away from routine. It means bittersweet, sanguine and entropic. Zehara is the anchor that holds me to reality.