Work Hard, Play Harder, Contribute Always

WORK HARD

The month of April (till early May) has been a helluva hectic time for yours truly.

I have been swamped… right, left and centre. At the end of most days, I was left exhausted. 

When my colleague Dr. T said that she needed me-time in one of our binge-whining session, I was quick to jump in and said the same. “Yeah, I need me time, too.”

She looked at me incredulously, “Kau single, punya banyak me-time lepas habis kerja”

No one has any idea.

My idea of me-time is me on the bed… with a good book… for two straight days, at least. A really good book that left me staring at the wall, stunned… by the beauty of its words. By the crazy plot twist! By the dialogues! 

When I am at home, I may be by myself… but not the whole of that alone hours are me-time.

Studying at home is NOT me-time…. that is studying time, all right? Going shopping for groceries or clothes or shoes is NOT me time… that is necessary shopping time (I don’t enjoy it much). Doing house chores at home is NOT me-time… that is a necessary household maintenance time! Hiking is NOT me-time… that is exercise time which is necessary for physical health and fitness (though I enjoy it, of course). Listening to political lectures or religious sermons through Facebook and Youtube is NOT me-time… that is increasing-general-knowledge time (though it does feed my need for intellectual stimulation and I like it too). Going out with friends to catch up and gossip is NOT me-time… that is socialising time (and it is done so that my friends won’t think I didn’t care about them or have forgotten them. Because I do remember them in my heart… of course.)

Seriously! I need a lot of alone time….to do all those things… and a portion of those times MUST be spent reading a good book in order for me to feel like I have enough me-time. In order to feel refreshed and rejuvenated! 

Adulthood is killing me slowly (okay, I have to stop being a drama queen. Hahha. I like having my own money as an adult. LOL. But seriously, what was I thinking when I used to want to grow up as fast as possible when I was a child?)

Whenever I feel extra tired, I would remind myself of what Imam Ahmad Hanbal had said to her son:

When do we rest

So, yeah…. life is a never ending struggle. Don’t expect to rest here in this world. Just work hard. 

That was what I told myself when I had to organise Autism Awareness Day on the 21st of April 2018. It took 2 months of careful planning, various meetings, numerous phone calls and a few unrestful nights to get it done but Alhamdulillah, after all the hard work, it was done and dusted. 

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The picture of the staff and committees that had worked so hard to organize Autism Awareness Day on the 21st of April 2018

PLAY HARDER

It was very nice and sweet of my colleagues to say that “We should all go to Pulau Songsong to blow off the steam and relieve some stress.” As though they were planning this trip for the sole purpose of making me feel refreshed after the past hectic months.

The truth is – and I know it – they wanted to go to Pulau Songsong… because they WANTED to go to Pulau Songsong. Whether or not it was specifically for my stress relief was neither here nor there. The fact is, they needed a driver to drive them there, anyway. And as I have always been the designated driver for the girls, of course they wanted me to come along. Hahah. Nice of them to pretend that it was all for my stress-relief, though! LOL. 

But yeah, I was glad they pushed me into doing it. Just like in any social activities, I ended up enjoying it more than I initially thought I would. And I need these type of friends to push me into it… otherwise I will be forever buried inside my house with books. 

The truth is, I relieve stress by solving the cause of the stress. If it is exam that’s causing me stress, I deal with the exam and get it over with. If organising an event is the source of stress, then again my stress can only be gone once the event is done. And all I need afterwards to de-stress is just to be alone, to enjoy my solitude and  dive into the fantastic world of my mystery and fantasy books. That’s all. 

But I am glad for people around me who didn’t give up on me when I was quite hesitant to go. If they didn’t push, I wouldn’t go. But they did, and I ended up really enjoying myself. 

That’s why an introvert person need an extrovert friend…. yin and yang and all that. The introvert is content with what she already has; already content with her own thoughts and the world inside her head. She doesn’t think she needs more. She doesn’t know that there are just as many fascinating things in the real world outside… until the people around her had pushed her to and she has no other choice but to realise  that the outside world is just as great. So that next time, when they plan another trip, she will be much more willing to go because she remembers her positive experience from the previous outing.

In fact, I really can’t wait for the next trip. 

Below are the pictures of the beauty of Pulau Songsong. It ALMOST felt like we were in the cheaper and primitive version of the Maldives. To those who don’t know the history of this enchanting island, Pulau Songsong was previously used by the Royal Australian Force as a missile testing ground in the 50s. The island has been closed off to the public for many years until circa 2008. Until now, the island does not have much in terms of amenities. No chalets (so camping out is the only option), very primitive toilets and a very simple and small surau. I hope the state government would do something in terms of development for this island. It was said that this island has one of the best coral systems compared to the rest of the nearby islands in the area. 

Below are some of the pictures of the enchanting Pulau Songsong. I highly recommend my dear readers to pay this island a visit. The cost of the entire trip was only RM50 per head (for the boat and for the food that we brought to be barbecued).  So much value for money, isn’t it? 

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Such a nice clear water…
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The rocks are really that colour. It casts a beautiful hue and glow to the surrounding water.
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This picture was taken on the other side of the island (the less crowded side)
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The turquoise colour of the sea is really calming, ain’t it?
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Haha our creative photographer had edited the picture of us posing in the water . It looked as though we had just finished fighting off monsters deep inside the water.

CONTRIBUTE ALWAYS

Another reason why my April month was so busy was because I had used up most of my free times to volunteer at Invoke for the recent election. And I was so happy and jubilant when Pakatan Harapan won stunningly and gloriously against the oppressive Barisan coalition led by the kleptocratic Najib and supported by his shameless cronies. 

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I have decided to write a specific post about my involvement with INVOKE (the brain child of PKR’s vice president, Rafizi Ramli). Perhaps, I will do that in the next post, Insya Allah.

But in short, I had volunteered at Invoke to be a PACA (polling agent and counting agent) for Pakatan Harapan around one month before the election. I had to attend a few courses and talks organised by INVOKE, Pakatan Harapan and Pusat Operasi Dun Bukit Pinang. I learned how to ensure a fair election, how to detect any hanky panky during the voting process, how to fill up specific forms while being a polling/counting agent (Borang Bantahan, Borang 13, Borang 14. Borang 10/ Akuan Identity, really so many borangs) and I was also given the phone number of lawyers that can be contacted if the presiding officer (Ketua Tempat Mengundi) refused to sign Borang 14 (the formal final result of the voting for each saluran). We also went through scenarios of what to do if certain circumstances arise (electricity/power blackout for example) and who we should contact to advise us on legal matters on the election day should any skirmish/argument take place. 

So the duration of April and early May was so exhausting, guys! Sometimes I was post-call, but I made myself attend the talks/ceramahs anyway at the pusat operasi. I believe that I am doing this for my beloved country.

I was raised by my parents to be really patriotic. We were hard-core UMNO supporters once upon a time. My father encouraged me to volunteer to go to PKSN (Program Khidmat Sosial Negara) while awaiting for my SPM results… in fact, I used to like going to BTN (but mainly for the outdoor activities haha). After medical school, I could have stayed in Australia like some of my other batchmates but my parents had reminded me of my duty as a Malaysian scholar to come back and serve the country. It was one of the hardest decision I had to make that I actually had to do istikharah for it because I was so torn apart (I rarely do istikharah in general because most of the time, I am pretty certain of my decision based on the facts and figures of the situation). I watched and enjoyed a lot of patriotic movies like Sarjan Hassan, Leftenan Adnan, Tanda Putera, and Ola Bola. My father would always say things like “Orang Melayu kena kerja kuat dan rajin, Tengok macam orang Cina! Siapa lagi kuat berusaha, dia yang akan berjaya.” My father would feel so proud when my school marks were better than the Chinese in my school or if I was the top scorer for any particular subject. In his mind, he was not being racist but he was being patriotic. He cares about the Malays and he has always been a part of some political party or some organizations that champion the Malay cause. 

Every general election is like a raya for our family. My maternal aunt’s house in Sungai Limau has been a bilik gerakan for BN since I was a child. It was still used as BN’s bilik gerakan for the recent GE14. But this time… WITHOUT the participation of my parents’ and myself. My aunt was so disappointed when my parents and all my siblings had, ehem, well..  ‘defected to  the other side’ (hahha. In her mind, it was the ‘evil’ side). Unlike the top UMNO members, my aunt was just an ordinary patriotic party member who thinks of UMNO as the Malays’ sole chance of surviving. In her mind, she is doing all these for her country too. She thinks she is supporting the same UMNO that she has been supporting since she herself was a small child. Nothing my parents said could ever shake her belief in UMNO. 

My parents are now a proud member of Parti Pribumi Bersatu Malaysia. They had switched allegiance since all Najib’s scandals started coming out in the social media 3 years ago. Then they joined Parti Pribumi Bersatu after Tun M set it up around one year ago. Me? I am not sure if I will ever be able to overcome my hesitancy in joining ANY organization, unnecessarily. Organisation has rules. And with me, I tend to break any rule if I don’t agree with it. I don’t respect position, insensible rules or diplomacy or form without substance. I respect fairness and justice, ideas, intelligence and plain speaking. You can be my boss, but I can go against you if I think you are wrong. And because of this, I can never be a good member of any particular organization. And I probably never even want to. I love being free to form my own mind and if it happens to be against any organization… well, that is EXACTLY why I am not a member of any. 

I prefer to volunteer the way I did with INVOKE. In my mind, I was not volunteering to be a PACA because I was a member of any of the component party of Pakatan Harapan (because I wasn’t and I am still not. I probably won’t ever). I volunteered because I wanted to ensure a fair election that will bring Najib down! The destroyer of this country must be punished and justice must be served. I volunteered for my own personal principle even if it meant I had to sacrifice my study time or my reading time. 

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And when Pakatan Harapan Alhamdulillah won, I felt an immense joy that was bordering on euphoria. I felt glad for the opportunity to be directly involved in this historical election that had seen Najib and BN perished in the hands of ordinary citizens who love Malaysia. The parliamentary candidate I was assigned to be a PACA to (at Sek Men Hutan Kampung Saluran 2) was Dato’ Mahfuz Omar… and Alhamdulillah he won the parliamentary seat of Pokok Sena. 

After seeing our beloved Tun Mahathir being sworn in as the 7th Prime Minister at Istana Negara via the LIVE broadcast of RTM2, the whole family cheered. Welcome back Tun Mahathir! And of course, welcome back Mukhriz as the MB of Kedah!

For now, I am your fan… but remember, if you betray the rakyat’s trust I will not hesitate to change my allegiance again. And so do many Malaysians in our age group. They say that this is the Malaysians Tsunami…. but it is MOSTLY the tsunami of the younger Malaysians! Who would have thought that we could do it? Alhamdulillah!

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A proud Kedahan. That’s me.

And thanks Rafizi, for creating INVOKE as a platform for many patriotic Malaysians to volunteer and be part of this momentous occasion. The kleptocrats are down! Alhamdulillah! Alhamdulillah! Alhamdulillah! It’s time to rebuild the nation. 

In the mean time, now that the election is over with a resounding glory, I can finally rest. May the rest of the month of May be a bit more pleasant and peaceful. I suspect that until the election fever is over (personally, it takes me some weeks to get over my election fever; I always have the tendency to follow many political news for many months after the election day. And what I read and thus what I think, is what I tend to write), many of my future posts will be about this country or about politics in general. So, stay tuned, if you like that sort of posts (and I am sorry if you don’t. Please feel free not to read my posts. If you do like that sort of posts though, you might encounter ideas or opinions of mine that you don’t agree with. Please feel free to comment or better yet, create your own blog and spread your own beliefs and ideas. This is now a FREE country!)

I leave my dear readers with a reminder to “Work hard, play harder and contribute always”.

Until next time, insha Allah. 😉

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You Reap What You Sow

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There are times when I think people are very blind to injustice and unfairness. 

If you cannot speak up against small injustice that happens in your surrounding and general environment, then you have no rights to talk about how bad the state of corruption in this country. How can you expect ministers and government officials to admonish their prime minister, when we ourselves cannot even speak up about things that happen in our own very small, very insignificant environment?

I personally do not feel the need to kowtow to people or kiss anyone’s ass at the cost of justice and fairness. If the cost of building harmonious relationship is by sacrificing justice and fairness, I don’t need to preserve such relationship. 

I keep friends that have the same core values and similar life principles. Other friends can choose to align their principles with me or not… their choice. But I am not keeping close relationships with those who cannot appreciate basic tenets of fair treatment and justice. In this, I am firm. 

If I am a client of a CBT session, the therapist would say that justice is my core belief. It is the lens through which I examine every single matter in life. Relationship is important, but not as much as justice. I didn’t say this, the Quran does. 

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Even in things that do not affect me personally, if I think it is wrong, I will speak up about it. And I am not like this by nature. No one, in their nature, simply for no reason likes to ruffle feathers and makes things uncomfortable. I am like this by training. Because it was ingrained within me (by my father, by my learning of  the religion) that if you don’t have the strength to speak up against small injustice that happens around you, what makes you think you will have the strength needed to fight for bigger things later? 

Some people told me that “decision has been made”. I just laughed. No one is questioning about whether or not decision is made or NOT made. We are questioning the fairness of the decision. Other people may not say it outright that the decision was wrong (because not many people are like me.)  But they think it, they feel it. And they will remember it. 

At least, when I am honest in my opinion, it gives everyone the opportunity to pause; to think first and not make a wrong decision. Or an unjust decision.

I have full insight regarding how I might come across when I am too blunt. But I still won’t change because I notice that without my bluntness, it is easy for people to sweep issues under the carpet and pretend that everything is right. 

Umar ibn Abdul Aziz, may Allah have mercy on him, said, “May Allah have mercy on a man who shows me my faults.”

Al-A’raf 7:164 taught us that we should never be among those who are not worth mentioning. The people who are not worth mentioning are those who in this life, when they saw injustice, they fell silent. 

***

No one likes to do extra-work.

But if you have failed miserably to complete your task last year, you should have the spine to shoulder the responsibility this year and try to compensate for what you didn’t accomplish last year. Other people had done their part. And now if it’s your turn, you have to develop the strength to get it done.

Someone who cares about you will take you aside and tell you, “Look, Allah will not put you through this if He doesn’t think you can handle this. This is your turn to do it. No one likes to do this task. That is why we should develop rules on how the decision is made regarding who must do it. As long as you haven’t completed your turn, other people will always feel resentful when they have to do something that you somehow can skip. When you give excuses like this, it reflects badly on you. People talk about you. How they have to pick up on your slacks because you couldn’t do what had been originally assigned for you! So, please do this! I will help you!”

A person who doesn’t care about you would say “Well, decision has been made. If the authority says you don’t have to do it, then you just don’t have to do it. No need to discuss anymore. Let the authority choose other people to replace what you should be doing. You can just ignore what other people feel about how you have shirked your responsibility.” A person who doesn’t care about your personal growth and development would encourage you to have the sort of behaviour that he himself has displayed all these while. So that you can become as chronic as him!

Is that a real friend?

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If I had a friend who (by rights of justice and fairness) failed to do her responsibility, I will take her aside and tell her, “I know life is difficult for you. But citing a random personal reason for not doing something that you should be doing is not the right thing to do. Come on, you are better than that! There is more to you than that! I will help you!”

Strength of character is not developed by maintaining the same routine each and every time, hoping that you can somehow escape your task. We won’t get any new experience by behaving like any extra work is a burden rather than a challenge. 

When I had to do it, did I like it? I didn’t! But I had to do it, so Alhamdulillah, I did it. When my friend had to do it, she didn’t like it too. But did she do it? Yes, she did. When she asked for my help, I felt GLAD to help and be involved in whatever way I could because I wanted her to be able to do it too. Now, that’s real friendship. 

Real friendship is NOT you encouraging your friends to abandon ship and let it sink when the going gets tough. Real friendship is whispering to your friend’s ear “when the going gets tough, the tough gets going. Let’s do whatever we can to keep the ship afloat” Real friendship is telling your friend, “I will help you with your task.”

Don’t let it be said that men are slackers and it takes women to complete simple task that men simply cannot perform. Rise to expectation, and trust Allah to help you.

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Trust in the most uplifting, most motivational Sunnahtullah that Allah has taught us: Effort is required to qualify for Allah’s help. As simple as that. 

 

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Adieu, Compulsive Fiction Reading

I think I have come to that saturation age where fictions have stopped being exciting. (God, I sound so old).  

Guys, I am grieving.

I am grieving over the fact that I no longer have the time to read commercial fiction. When I finally do read fiction, I didn’t get the same kind of enjoyment that I used to get as a child (like any addiction, this is a symptom of tolerance, perhaps). Nothing surprises me anymore. I could guess the plot half-way into the novel that by the time I reached the end of it, I felt like “meh, is that it?”

I still remember how Dan Brown’s Da Vinci Code amazed me throughout the whole time I was reading it when I was 20 years old. But his latest book ‘Origin’ that came out a few months ago, well, I just didn’t get the same kind of buzz from it. I imagine, if I were to read Origin at the age of 18 or 19, I would get pretty excited and couldn’t wait to discuss it with my sisters and friends. Now? I just went, “Same old, same old, Dan Brown!Can’t you create better stories? Ok… you are good at writing because you are Dan Brown. But why can’t I enjoy it as I used to? Is it you? Or is it me?”  

I was just as upset with the latest book in The Millennium series ‘The Girl Who Take An Eye for An Eye.’ I was disappointed by how simple the plot really is. I used to feel really excited when halfway through the first novel in the series (The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo) I still couldn’t figure out who the culprit was. I even enjoyed the second, third and fourth instalment of the series. But this latest book felt flat and plain uninteresting to me. 

Is this anhedonia, or what? (Hahah. But my appetite, sleep, function and most of everything else is normal. So don’t worry about me, ok). 

***

Let me tell you how reading fiction used to feel.

I daydreamed about it at school. I prevaricated (read: lied to my father) that I had a kelas tambahan or latihan sukan at school so that I could get my reading time at my school library (I finished the whole Nancy Drew Series in Asma School library. And then I started on other mystery series by Enid Blyton interspersed with the series featuring Alfred Hitchcock and The Three Investigators. All of them were read in the school library. Because at home, I had other academic tasks to do and would not be excused from them by my parents.) I hid library books that I hadn’t finished reading during recess, by placing the book in different shelves (in between revision books far away from the actual shelf it should be placed) so that other students would not be able to get to it until I was done with it. And the reason I did that was because most of the time,  I had reached the quota of books I could borrow and therefore could not borrow any more. And thus, the only alternative I had was to hide the book from other students. (I was bad, bad bad. And I did that while being a school librarian *facepalm*. In my own defence, it was my elder sister who taught me to do it because she too had done the same thing. After all, desperate times call for desperate measures. Hahaha.). 

In MRSM Langkawi, I became a school librarian again so that I could spend my time in the library for, ehem, librarian duties (haha) instead of having to be in  the class for prep.

For birthdays and rewards, I wanted fiction. I saved half my school money to buy fiction every month. The anticipation was half the pleasure. Like I said, I daydreamed about them. 

When I finally got my hands on the book I had been daydreaming of, the happiness was immense and intense. When I finally started to actually read the book, my mind was empty of other things. And I was transported to another land… I was there with the characters… doing all the detecting, thinking the same thing the characters were thinking or speculating, going through the same adventures, the same trials and heartaches and facing the same evil force. And when they triumphed at the end, it felt like it was me who had succeeded. Whenever something sad or something bad happened to me, I would remember to be like the heroes that I read; heroes don’t give up, they push harder until they win, they never give in to the evil force; if they die, they will die with honour while accomplishing a critical mission.

To me, reading fiction was all the motivation and inspiration that I needed.

I didn’t need to read books like “How to be happy in 10 simple steps”…. or “La Tahzan,”… or “Chicken Soup For Whatever”…I don’t think I would follow the advice in such books anyway (I know some people love reading non-fiction self-improvement, self-help and motivational books like that. And as a psychiatry doctor, you might think it is weird that I don’t read books like that. But to be honest, I was never able to finish such a book, alas)

Books like “7 habits of highly effective people”, I could never finish them! If I wanted to be effective, I thought of Sherlock Holmes. If I wanted  to be kind and fair, I thought about Atticus Finch (To Kill A Mocking Bird). If I wanted to push myself to do the right thing and be firm, I thought  about the story of Umar Al-Khattab. 

I was motivated by stories. Not self-help books or motivational books. 

So, a large part of my life was influenced by fiction. And I enjoyed them… so much…. until recently.

Well, actually, when I really think about it, I started noticing my lack of enjoyment since early 2016. I still loved reading fictions in 2016….but the feeling was not the same as when I was a teenager or even as when I was a HO. The level of enjoyment and excitement was not like before. It still gives me pleasure, but it wasn’t as intense. 

Am I becoming jaded? ‘I have read everything, I knew everything, no author can surprise me anymore’ kind of jaded? 

Or am I just finally grown up?  Haha. Maybe all these while, I was still a kid trapped in a woman’s body. And now, my soul finally catches up with my physical body, wrinkles and all. Haha. (When you think about it, books are like my toys. If you ask a girl aged 4 years old about whether or not she would ever find playing with barbie dolls a boredom, I am sure she could not imagine being in the position of not loving barbie dolls ever. Because at 4 years old, that was the only thing she knew to find pleasure in. That was the only thing important enough at that age. Her world is small and limited. And in that limited world, Barbie Doll is the best! But when that girl reaches a certain age, barbie dolls will stop being entertaining anymore. Now, there are video games, and school sports and academic stuff to focus on. So her attachment to Barbie Dolls diminished.  Maybe, I am just like that girl. It’s just that with me, because books are varied by different genres and different characters, it took me longer to detach myself).

In 2016… things happened that made me reevaluate how I used my time (like how I could have died in an accident that happened in Ramadan 2016; and when I survived the ordeal unscathed, I had wondered whether there are things in this world that I am supposed to accomplish that go far beyond fiction reading; things I must accomplish before I can finally meet my Maker) 

And then there was the exam… I took my Part A in December 2016. 

Since then… reading fiction makes me feel guilty. I used to be able to forget everything when I read… but now, even as I am reading Jeffrey Archer or Dan Brown, my mind was thinking about the house chores I haven’t done or the academic stuff I haven’t mastered, or the fact that I should visit my parents this weekend because last weekend I had already stayed at my house reading. It lessened my enjoyment of my fiction considerably because I just couldn’t be as absorbed as I used to. Adulthood, responsibilities… they stopped me from being absorbed… and therefore I couldn’t enjoy it as much as I used to. (Well, make no mistake. I am not saying I don’t enjoy reading at all now. Because I do… reading is still my number one hobby. I just didn’t get as much euphoria with it now.) 

Then, there was also that soft whisper in my heart telling me that I could die tomorrow not accomplishing anything worthy in this life because I was busy reading fiction. That other people got involved in NGOs, doing charities, organising events for the greater good of the community… they were out there doing things that are good for others, that would benefit them in the hereafter. (I really do admire my friend Dr. T… she is so devoted to her NGO. Me? I have issues about committing to an organization. I am afraid of restrictions, ‘kepatuhan kepada pemimpin’ and group thinking and all that. In fact, I have trust issues with any hierarchical organization… I just don’t like it. I will avoid belonging to one if I can help it. But then, another friend of mine who knew my issues had recited to me an old African proverb “If you want to go fast, go alone. But if you want to go far, go together”. This is why people join NGOs or any organization despite all the hassles! Because they want to go far. Because they know they can’t do much to benefit the society when they are alone. But hah… my aversion to hierarchical organization always rein me in. Each and every time, I just couldn’t do it.) 

I saw people who become the best at what they do because they spend the bulk of their time on their career. For example, maybe I should spend my time by doing a study on some aspect of psychiatry that I can then publish in a reputable journal. Maybe I should spend my time writing a book about psychiatry for lay people. Maybe I should do a vlog in you tube for education purposes. (I followed a few dermatologists who created a youtube channel talking about skin care and busting the myth of beauty products out there, educating their viewers with their knowledge so that their viewers can make better life choices. I mean, that is a very useful way to spend your time, right… by making educational videos and at the same time promoting your service at your practice! Such a clever and business-savvy thing to do!) 

Below is an example of a dermatologist-youtuber, Dr. Davin Lim, whose videos I actually find very educational. He spends his energy on educating the public while at the same time attracting a lot of future clients to his private practice. That is brilliant marketing without being shallow or cringe-worthy.

Look at Neelofa guys! She is so successful. Maybe this is why people become successful… they focus their energy and their free time doing beneficial things that directly or indirectly propel their career and their life forward! 

When Neelofa has an instagram account… that instagram account actually serves a purpose of promoting her product and herself as a brand. 

Look at Vivy Yusuf… her instagram, her blog and her you tube channel all serve a purpose to promote her business.

And that’s why she and Neelofa made the Forbes 30 under 30 list last year! 

Look at us, ordinary people. Our instagram and Facebook accounts are used just for fun. Not for career purposes or anything really meaningful. When Neelofa and Vivy actually update their accounts, there is a higher purpose to it other than simply updating or checking in just for ‘fun’ or just for the heck of it. 

See? We waste our time! Our time and energy are scattered and unfocussed.

Maybe  if I were a journalist or an English teacher or a novelist, I can justify how much time I spend reading fiction because reading fiction would inspire more ideas and improve my language command which I could then use in my career as a journalist/English teacher/ novelist. 

But I am a doctor. I should spend more time reading doctor’s stuff, right? *sigh*

So either I give up reading fiction, or I change my career? 

Or…. I must tell myself that I can only read fiction sparingly because there are other things that are more important in life that deserve my time more. And I have to make myself happy with just that! Happy with just sparing reading. (Can I do that?)

Can I be happy struggling with myself to read journal articles instead of commercial fiction? I don’t know. But the need for me to moderate my obsession is there… especially now that my enjoyment in reading is dimmed by my own realisation that I should spend my time better. That there are bigger things in life other than my own selfish enjoyment. (cognitive dissonance is really wreaking havoc with my ego! I am in the eternal battle between my id and my superego)

This really feels like a relationship break-up, you know. Actually, it’s like a divorce. Haha. (When I think about it, this break-up has been coming gradually for the past few years. I was just never ready to admit it. In fact, the crack started slowly in medical school even as my seniors were telling me that I should spend more time reading Islamic books. I have had attacks of cognitive dissonance on and off since then….but I held on because reading fiction was my first love. But I guess, I grow up now and have become more matured. Like the girl with the barbie doll. Maybe I am more ready to give up fiction now when I never was before.)

  

And therefore now, I am grieving. Because once upon a time, reading fiction has been a beautiful journey and experience to me. I said before how it shaped my character; it gave me my ideals and principles and philosophy. The fact that I could write a blog, compose a poetry and express myself in writing like this… I owe all of it to fiction reading. Once upon a time, when I was a kid, a teenager and a young adult, fiction reading was very important to me and I revolved my time and my life around it. I turned to fiction reading during times of sadness and tribulations as well as during times of happiness. Fiction reading to me is like a toddler’s version of a favourite blanket or a bantal busuk that the toddler needs when his mother is not around. To the toddler, the blanket and the pillow is a substitute mother that calms his anxiety when his mother has to leave him. 

Fiction reading was my emotional crutch. 

So this, indeed, feels like a break-up. Like I am saying good bye to a certain lifestyle I have always known. 

But eventually, everyone leaves their attachment blanket and pillow behind. They have to… in order to mature and break away from their restrictive cocoon. 

But I remember a story that has been told numerous times before that will console my grief. The story of rocks, pebbles and sands and how they all can fit in a glass jar. I admit now, my fictions have been my sands all these times.

 

It’s time to make more room for rocks and pebbles, eh?

 I am really going to do this, insya-Allah. I am so ‘berkobar-kobar’ right now, that I will be surprised if you cannot feel my enthusiasm as you read my post. LOL. 

But for now, I need some time to properly grieve.  *sigh*

Adieu, compulsive fiction reading. Adieu!

 

 

P/S:

I do feel quite moody lately. Is it because of the psychological withdrawal of not reading fiction? Haha. Been restraining myself from reading fiction since the start of the new year. (This is part of my new year resolution!) That means I have not been reading fiction for the past one month! Detoxifying from fiction is really full of suffering, guys. *sigh*

CBT

Now my replacement therapy is this non-fiction I am currently reading, a book on Cognitive Behaviour Therapy authored by Judith S. Beck (she is the daughter of Aaron Beck. Aaron Beck is the father of Cognitive Therapy, which is one of the most commonly used psychotherapy in the psychiatry field) which I had ordered online straight from the UK. So far, I am not bored yet because this is directly related to my work. But Wallahi, there are times when I seriously pine for the next mystery and thriller. 

Ya Allah, grant me patience. Can’t do it without Your help.  

Personality And Context

She was not that bad. She was actually quite entertaining. I was, to be honest, totally flummoxed by the fact that there was a side of her I found quite engaging.

I must admit I was quite surprised at how much I enjoyed her talk on that day. When I first saw her as one of the relatives of my patient many, many years ago, she was, quite frankly, a long, sharp thorn on my backside.

But on that day, she was in her element. She knew her stuff. She took questions from the audience and answered them well, full with comprehensive explanation. Pretty impressive, I must admit. Far from the image of an overbearing, fussy and difficult-to-please relative that I have always associated with her in the past.

When I told one of my colleagues about her the day after, she was full of disbelief. “Split personality?” She joked.

I shook my head, after reflecting for awhile. “Different context yields different persona. In different settings, you put on different masks. After all, that is exactly what persona means.”

Persona means mask. And just as the actor may change his mask and costume, so does the individual ‘seems’ to change. Deep inside, she/he may be NOTHING like the mask she/he puts on.

It is a scary thought, isn’t it? Because how do we know, which one of the many different masks truly reflects the person underneath? 

***

During housemanship, I was with a bunch of HOs eating a late lunch when my friend had jokingly said, “I wonder macam mana husband specialist S ni boleh tahan dengan dia. Mesti husband and anak-anak dia depressed.”

Even when I was not yet a PSY MO, I knew that sentence was illogical. “Mana kau tahu dengan husband and anak-anak dia, dia akan jerit-jerit juga macam dia jerit dengan kita? Entah-entah solehah, mithali habis! Who knows dengan diorang, mungkin dia macam perempuan melayu terakhir.”

They thought I was being sarcastic, and they all laughed.

***

“My father behaved differently lately. He talked over the phone for hours at night and not sleeping. He started singing randomly. And lately he started buying that coffee for ‘kuat batin’. He is also divorcing my mother and plans to marry another person. You should have read his messages to his new girlfriend. It sickens me. I think he is manic.” Said one relative of a patient.

“Hmm…. but his so-called manic mood is not pervasive. He functions well. All his behaviour can be attributed to someone who is falling in love with another person.” Said the doctor who treated the patient but couldn’t see anything that can be attributed to any particular disorder. 

“But this is not the father that I have known all my life.”

Look, do we know our parents in all the different contexts that exist in their lives?

Come on! You probably started having memory of your parents starting from the age of 4-5 years old. Before that, you were babies and you couldn’t really remember anything much. If you are a second child, and your elder sister is 4 years older than you at 8 years old, it means by the time you were 4 years old, your parents had been married for 8 years already (and that is if they had conceived your elder sister immediately upon marriage. Otherwise, they might have been married much longer before you finally have any memory of who they are as a person).

You have missed how your parents were when they were kids, themselves. How naughty they might be, for example. You might have missed how your parents were as a teenager. Maybe your father really was the ‘gedik’, over-familiar, licentious type of a person when he was drugged by love. So his whatsapp messages that sicken you now might simply be part of his premorbid personality. You don’t know how your father is among his friends and colleagues. (For example, an elderly mak cik was surprised that her elderly husband had belonged to a whatsapp group consisting of all his male ex-classmates. And the contents of the whatsapp group, said the makcik, was shameless and overtly sexual. She could not believe her husband and his friends could talk like that and when she confronted her husband, the husband just laughed it off by saying “orang lelaki memang cakap macam tu!” What the hell?? Won’t the mak cik’s childen be shocked if they knew? See? The kids do not know their parents in other contexts!)

Even a wife does not know how her husband behaves at his workplace! Her husband might be the flirtatious type who talks to all his colleagues and staffs inappropriately and when the wife finds out that her husband has an affair, the first thing the wife would usually say is “I never saw this coming!”

You see, she only saw her husband when he puts on the ‘husband’ mask at home. He has many other masks; one of them might happen to be  ‘the one that saja suka test market’ mask, for example. (A lot of guys like putting on this particular mask. An intelligent woman will never fall for it. It never fails to amuse me when I saw such mask being put on!)

I was a HO when I saw a married person in a superior position speaking inappropriately to his subordinates (in case, you are wondering, that subordinate was not me! I don’t think anyone would dare. I have that malignant vibe that scares everyone. I always make sure my boundaries are clear! I simply put on my ‘bitchy’ mask and people know to stay appropriate. This is actually my favourite mask, LOL.) And I remember thinking, “My God, aku ingat doktor-doktor ni busy, dan tak mungkin akan ada affair. Shit happens even in the hospital. Poor his wife.”

I learned to ignore such occurrences and thought to myself “this is none of my business. As long as you guys don’t do anything more than a verbal banter in front of me, I will ignore it and pretend I don’t know.”

But believe me, behind your back, people do talk. 

bitch
My bitchy vibe!

***

I was impressed with my mother when  I saw the sort of respect she got as a senior midwife when I was in my 4th year and had followed her to her workplace in order to observe how Malaysian labour room worked. I went with her when she was doing her night shift at the hospital and I saw how hardworking she was and how knowledgeable. Before that night, I never knew that she was one of the trainers for midwifery and also an exam invigilator for midwifery exams. I saw how the junior midwives all consulted her, asking her to verify their VEs.

I saw my mother in a new light that night.

I was so used to thinking of her in the context of her being my mother. I loved her. I knew she loved me. She cooked delicious meals for me. She made sure I had everything I needed to be a good student. She worried for me when I fell ill. She pushed me to toe the line of etiquette when we had guests at home. Sometimes, she nagged at me when I didn’t do my house chores properly. She could be real fussy but still adorable. That was how I thought of her.

I never thought about her intelligence and competence as an experienced midwife. I knew my father is an intelligent person because he was the one who taught us our academic stuff when we were growing up; he was in charge of our academic discipline. My mother was not in-charge of our academic. She was in charge of cooking and cleanliness and shopping and stuff like that. Somehow, my mom’s intelligence was not something I consciously thought of, before that night. Whether or not she was an intelligent person, was neither here nor there because it wouldn’t change anything, in my short-sighted opinion at that time. She was just… my mom!

But that night, I saw her in a different context. I saw her in the midst of enjoying her conversation with her friends. She didn’t talk with them the way she talked with me and my sisters at home. At her workplace, she was the most senior midwife, someone with a level of authority (that didn’t show much when she was at home because my father was more dominant) and she was also someone’s friend. She was more light and carefree. Their conversation could turn silly too… and at times, my mom was downright hilarious. I never saw her as someone hilarious, before.

I was like, “Damn… I don’t know my own mother. All these times….” It was like I had been blindfolded before and now, someone had released my eyes from its oppressive covers.

I was glad I saw this side of her that night. I felt proud of my mother in the context of her as more than just my mom. I saw her as a person in her own right regardless of whose mom or whose wife she was. And that night, I truly saw her as an intelligent, competent and incredible woman.

Since then, I believe that a woman must contribute to the society to remind herself that she is more than just a wife and a mother. It might not even be a paying job… she might just be volunteering at the local surau or at any soup kitchen. But she must do something for the society in her own capacity. Even if she has a rich husband, she must do something to feel worthy in her own right as a person. Otherwise, people around her may underestimate her and do not truly SEE her… even as they love her.

No one can ever make me give up my work. I might not always be a doctor later… I might take an early pension or do something else.  But I will always work in one way or another. It is what God created us for… “memakmurkan bumi, isn’t it?”

In a way, this is how you fulfil your purpose of life. By working!

***

When I was just a junior MO, I was upset by a talk given by someone in MMA regarding ‘housemen these days’. The talk was mainly about how the flexi hours would make HOs incompetent as an MO and they would be a burden to specialists later and so on and so forth. *rolled eyes*

When I was a HO, flexi hours were not yet implemented in full. I worked in on-calls for most of my Housemanship training. So, I didn’t feel personally attacked by the talk.

But in principle,  I just hated “senior budget bagus”. Hahha. I have issues with seniors like that.

So I wrote a blog post entitled “Practicing Medicine In The Age of Doom and Gloom” and it went viral (unintentionally, of course). Some specialists had written on their facebook comments about my arrogance. I read that comment and I laughed out loud.

Such silliness!

Sometimes, I wonder whether or not people really understand what the word arrogant really means. Do they just use the word to describe anyone who disagrees with them or anyone who retaliates to their own arrogance?

You were the one who had said that the juniors would never be as competent as you were because of the flexi hours system (isn’t that arrogant too?), and yet we were the ones who were arrogant when we defended ourselves against YOUR arrogance? (In psychiatry, this is called projection, ok!)

You were the one who shouted at HOs, enacting histrionic drama in the ward, and bullying HOs unnecessarily, (one particular specialist actually commented on HO’s clothing and make-up, deliberately embarrassing her in the rounds. How does her make-up or clothing in ANY way related to her work, you tell me. And one MO had said to another houseman, “You tak payah mai kerja kalau macam ni. Kenapa? Husband you tak dapat tanggung you?” How does her husband’s ability to support her become a topic related to her work performance? Ridiculous!) And when one HO decided that such unacceptable conduct should not be tolerated and then wrote about how she felt on her own blog, suddenly you thought the HO was arrogant?

Give me a break!

Why don’t you connect with her in a different context and behave better yourself, then maybe you will find her humble and nice. Maybe, she just refused to be nice to bullies! As simple as that!

It was Plato who had said, “the measure of a man is what he does with power.”

measure of a man

You can easily judge the character of a man by how he treats those who can do nothing for him. So, you can judge whether or not a person is arrogant based on how the person treats someone below himself/herself. Is she nice to staff nurses, other HOs, other PPKs? Does she say thank you to her subordinates who had assisted her on-call or does she simply complain about HOs non-stop and didn’t bother to thank people who had helped made her life easier?

Some people can be polite to their superiors. And that is not surprising! Of course, a self-serving kaki-bodek would do so. But the same person can find so many things to complain about HOs in whatsapp groups non-stop, blowing things out of proportion. 

If  you want to know who is arrogant, ask people of the lowest position in an organization. Don’t take the word of the highest echelon in the organization who might feel easily offended just because other people don’t meet his expectation of  how much he should be respected. Sometimes, people don’t respect you out of your own doings and your own faults. 

***

Who exactly are we?

If we take off the many masks that we put on in our daily life, who are we?

Depending on contexts, the person I am dealing with, how closely connected I am to that person, how annoying a person is (and many other factors), I too have masks.

Indeed, everyone does. It doesn’t mean we all have split personalities! It doesn’t mean that we have some sort of personality disorders or are manic or whatever.

When I was in my 5th housemanship posting, one specialist had said to me “You look so quiet! But in your blog, you seemed so outspoken.”

In my heart, I was like, “If you give me enough reason to attack, I can be that person in my blog, too. Give me enough reason… then watch me.”

Instead of saying that, I didn’t make any comment. I just laughed.

She asked “Did you write about me?”

“No…” I paused. “Not yet.” I added cheekily.

She laughed and said, “If you write about me, make sure you let me read it first. If I say ok, then you can put it in your blog.”

I never wrote about her. She wasn’t a bully.

I was just a houseman. Of course, I would pick my battle… and my main target in my daily houseman life was just to finish my job as soon as possible so that I could go home as soon as possible. I didn’t pick a fight for every single thing that annoyed me… I only picked up the ones that had crossed the boundaries into abuse of power and bullying.  I didn’t seek unnecessary interaction with MOs or specialists. I only talked to them regarding work-related issues. I had no desire to socialize with them beyond  that. If I seemed quiet, it was because I had no reason to be noisy. Not yet.

That was my persona (my mask) as a houseman when dealing with MOs/specialists. The mask of quiet, reserved, not-excellent-but-good-enough-not-to-be-extended HO.

But among fellow HOs and friends who I already knew and felt comfortable with, I could be loud and opinionated (just like in my blog) and I could be the life of the party too.

And among fellow HOs or people I wasn’t really comfortable with, I would be back to being quite reserved.

But try crossing my principles (unnecessary bullying, unfair treatment of subordinates, unjust accusation, unreasonable demand for me to do something that goes against what I think is the right thing to do) you will be surprised at how fast I can change my mask. This is what my siblings say, “my lioness mask”.

Don’t wake the sleeping lion (or was it the sleeping giant? Well, something like that… you get the drift.)

Now as an MO, I maintained the same masks and the same boundaries between me, my HOs, fellow MOs and my superiors. I am friendly but firm with my HOs…. I have never shouted or unnecessarily scolded them. My instruction towards them is straightforward and easily understood. There is nothing I hate more than being nagged when I was a HO, and likewise, I refrain from nagging them. Among the many phrases that I refrain to say to them (no matter how tempting) was “during my time… (insert your budget-bagus sentence)”. Haha.

Even if I were to do that, it was not done in a way to patronize them, but more in a way to reminisce about how ridiculous some of the rules were when I was a HO. I am not jealous of their shift system. In fact, I look forward to improving working conditions for everyone and this is a good first step towards that.

With my superiors, I can take reasonable scolding especially if it is my fault. But if it is not my fault, I will certainly speak up and defend myself. Depending on the types of superiors I have to deal with, I mirror their attitude towards me. I can be friendly, polite, indifferent or even hostile, depending on how they themselves treat me. I am not an ass-kisser and never will be. If I am nice to my superiors, it must be because I genuinely like them as a person. Otherwise, I will give them basic level of politeness; just enough in order to work with but nothing more.

When it comes to my patient, since I am the one who see the patient first and clerk the patient fully at the emergency department, I know best whether or not my specialist made the appropriate decision regarding my patient (whether to admit or not admit the patient, for example). If they disagree with my judgment, they can just ask me the appropriate questions to ascertain whether or not the patient should be discharged or admitted. And if my answers all point towards admission, yet they still don’t want to admit the patient, then I would be quite upset. In my opinion, if I distrust the clerking of my HOs, I will see the patient myself and re-clerk the patient myself (my control issues, hahah). So, I expect that if anyone were to disagree with my impression of my patient, then rather than nagging non-stop over the phone, asking the same question over and over again no matter how clear I have been about my judgment, they should see the patient themselves. In fact, I think that is what being on-call is all about regardless of whether you are a HO/MO/Specialist/Consultant.

If a HO distrusts a SN’s report, the HO must go and see the patient herself rather than just ordering the SN to do something over the phone. If an MO distrusts or disagrees with a HO’s assessment, it is the most responsible thing for the MO to see the patient herself (and I always do that. Otherwise, I will put my trust in my HO! Rather than nagging non-stop to assuage my own anxiety). Likewise, if a specialist feels unsettled and feels dissatisfied with an MO’s assessment, I believe it is the responsibility of the specialist to see the patient herself! Why not? Otherwise, just trust the assessment of  your MO, because she is the one who actually gets up from bed, drives to the ED, clerk the patient for a long time and facing the aggression of the patient and educates the family members for hours. If you are not willing to go to the ED yourself, then you really have no choice but to trust your MO’s report and manage the case according to her report.

No matter who you are (HO or MO or specialist or consultant), always remember that “No trust = go and do it yourself.”

This has been my mantra ever since I started working in 2011. That’s why we are on-call! (I will always remind myself that if I ever become a specialist, my MOs are not my sounding board to release my anxiety of my indecision. If I cannot decide, if some bits of the history are still not clear, I will do it myself!)

***

So my personality would seem different to anyone who knew me in a different context or in a different setting… and depending on how annoyed or benevolent I feel towards that person, I would of course behave differently. For a person to make an arbitrary inference of my whole character based on the limited context that the person had known me, would be inaccurate and sometimes, quite foolish.

So to my blog readers, do not expect me to behave the way you think I might behave in person just because you have formed an impression about me based on my writing. Just because you read my blog, it doesn’t mean you know me. You only know me in the context of me as a blogger. This is my blogger persona. In real life, I might not talk the way I write.  So, don’t be surprised (the way the specialist in my 5th posting were surprised. Haha. She is one cute lady.)

You do not know me as a daughter or a sister, or a doctor or a friend. I choose what I want to write and what I want to share. It would certainly skew your perception of me. I might not tell you all my weaknesses and my flaws. But at least, you know my life philosophy, my principles and my thoughts.

No one really knows anyone, really! When you say you can get along with someone, you are actually getting along with his/her mask! One aspect of his/her personality was harmonious with yours. And that’s all. Nothing more than that. One day you might be surprised when you saw the same person in a different setting and find yourself unable to accept how she/he has behaved in that particular context. (Trust me, this is why the rate of divorce is increasing everywhere in the world. Because you find out later that you had married a persona.)

At the end of the day, you are not a sum of your many personas. Deep inside, you know who you are.

The only One who knows you truly and deeply is Allah. 

He is the best of Judge. Other people’s judgments of your personas (your masks, really!) do not matter all that much. 

So, let’s pray that He favors us on the day of judgment.

Oh My English!

Screenshot 2017-11-18 07.26.10

The above picture is a screenshot of my facebook status regarding the recent viralled article from The Star in which a worried Malaysian (presumably a parent) had implored the Ministry of Education (MOE) not to penalize the 2017 SPM candidates who had misinterpreted the question of their English essay exam.

Screenshot 2017-11-18 07.32.40

The article in The Star was an open letter titled ‘Error in Reading Exam Question’ in which someone using the pseudonym ‘A Worried Malaysian’ was saying that only a maximum of 3 marks should be deducted from the whole essay if a student had misinterpreted the question as asking them regarding moving to another part of the world, as opposed to another part of Malaysia. (Hmmm…. what is it about ‘another part of Malaysia’ did SPM candidates get confused about, I have no idea. The question is so precise to me! There is no room for confusion, I think.)

Below is a screenshot of the whole article from The Star. I am sorry it is a bit small but you can try to google it yourself.

Screenshot 2017-11-18 07.34.18

Basically, we could sum up the whole article by the first few sentences of her writing which says, and I quote:

THE English SPM 2017 Paper 1 was conducted on Tuesday. In the continuous writing section, which is worth 50 precious points, students were given five options to choose from. The first option reads: “If you had the opportunity to move to another part of Malaysia, where would you choose to live? Explain your choice.”

As an adult who read this question for the first time, I did not realise it was asking about a place to live within Malaysia. Likewise, many excellent SPM 2017 students who sat for this paper didn’t realise an inclusion criterion set by the question. Some wrote about living in Korea, Britain, Bali, Switzerland, Mecca, Madina, and etc.

SPM is an important examination for students in our country as it will decide the paths they will follow. For excellent kids who wrote about living outside of Malaysia, they have made a mistake in one of the most important examinations in their lives.

These kids have been in turmoil since they realised this horrendous mistake. Those who were aiming for an A+ in English are in extreme shock about this.

I think, it is a sad day indeed for English teachers all over Malaysia when their SPM candidates can misinterpret ‘another part of Malaysia’ with ‘another part of the world’. I cannot understand how such error could have occurred.

Even if (and it is a BIG if) the question is misleading or tricky (Gosh, it is not!!) , if I were the SPM candidate this year, I would have chosen another essay option to answer if I could not be sure whether this question was asking about ‘another part of Malaysia’ or ‘another part of the world’. (The more I write ‘another part of Malaysia’ and ‘another part of the world’, the more puzzled I become at how anyone can confuse these two! I mean seriously! Repeat it to yourself! Another part of Malaysia, another part of the world, another part of Malaysia, another part of the world…. say these over and over again and you will find yourself in a state of incredulity at how anyone can be confused of these two different meanings).

I thought it was absurd when the Worried Malaysian had said that ‘excellent’ students were the ones who had made an error in understanding the question. In my experience with my excellent friends back when I was doing my SPM, ‘excellent’ students usually don’t make simple errors. They only make complicated errors, and only when they are drunk, drugged or in a state of panic.

Excellent students are usually hypercritical at how they look at questions, and if they doubt their judgment, they would change the course of their strategy and choose another essay to answer.

So when I had said in my FB status, that if I were the English teacher, I would straightaway give the students grade B or below, I was not doing it out of cruelty or lack of compassion. If excellent students who would never have made such a simple error deserve an A, then these students deserve a B or below, right? You cannot give similar grade between those who make this error and those who don’t!

It won’t be fair, right?

***

 For those who don’t know, English essay is marked based on:

  1. -Content  – 20 marks
  2. -Language – 20 marks
  3. -Organisation (coherence)  – 10 marks

At least, that is what I was told by my fellow friends who are English teachers.

To me, who is a psychiatry doctor, content is very important. It forms part of our Mental State Examination that we perform on our patients. Based on your speech (in how you answer our question), we put a remark on whether the patient’s speech is relevant or is it circumstantial or tangential etc etc. (I won’t bore you with the technicalities of my daily work). In short, we psychiatry doctors really ponder your answers and we give them our own version of grading. (Not unlike English teachers, Lol.)

As a psychiatry doctor, your answer and your thought content are so important to me. That might explain why my knee jerk reaction to SPM candidates who don’t answer the question properly would be to straightaway give her a B or below (But I have known other people who are so good in English that they were even more strict regarding understanding simple phrase of ‘another part of Malaysia’ and these people simply wanna give these students 25 marks; half the full mark of 50. Lagi kejam dari aku kan? Haha. But it reflects how much people were disappointed that you can misinterpret something like this!) 

But I guess, to be really fair, we should mark the essay according to the marking scheme above; based on content, language and organisation.

I think if the content does not fulfil the requirement of the essay question, I would probably give 5 marks only. A nicer English teacher might give a 10 (half the full marks for content).

So basically, only marks from the content component would be deducted. If the student’s command in the English language is good, then hopefully other components (language and organisation) would make up for it.

I do feel sorry for any of the SPM candidates who had made such an error in reading the exam question, but I do disagree with the spirit in which the article by Worried Malaysian was written…. as though the students should only be lightly penalized for their mistake.

Penalty should be given according to the marking scheme; in this case the marks for the content component must reflect their poor comprehension of the essay question.

My worry is, some over-involved parents want to shield and protect their kids from various bumps in the road of life and the MOE then breaks under the pressure.

***

It would be a shame if the MOE decides to break under the pressure of many worried parents and decides to only ‘lightly’ penalize these ‘confused but excellent’ students. Our standard for getting an A in SPM English is already so low, that lowering it further would place our examination system at the realm of a hilarious joke.

Seriously!

When I was an SPM student, nothing made me more annoyed at seeing how other students whose command in English was not that good had obtained an A too.

But then, there were also people like Miss A (whose command in the English language is not only good, but almost Shakespearean in its literary!!) who might also be annoyed that I got an A. Hahha.

So I learned to be okay with that aspect of exam; that people of the same grade do not always have similar level of excellence, but at least, well enough to get an A.

But I am here to tell you, that the standard for getting an A is very low already.

I will give you an example of many different standards of  introductions to an essay and how all of them can get an A so easily.

  •  When I first met Rania in my first day of residential school, I knew she would be my best friend for the rest of my schooling days. There was an air of sophistication in the way she walked and talked that I couldn’t help myself from being utterly enthralled in her presence. I wanted to know more about her and emulate her style. When she told me that she was from Kuala Lumpur, I knew immediately that if I were to gain her level of confidence, poise and ‘worldliness’, I must become a city girl too, just like her. Since then, I have wanted to make my home in KL, far away from the charming rustication of Alor Star.  (I think this is good enough. Maybe this intro deserves an A minus. But certainly not an A plus! This girl is a kampung girl from Alor Star who is fascinated by her new friend and this girl thinks that she might become like her friend if she lives in the same place as her friend. Maybe, you can develop the story into how this girl later finds out that certain traits have nothing to do with where you were born or where you live. That certain traits you develop through experience or travel or through books that improve your mind. That the secret to her friend’s sophistication is her wisdom, and nothing else. Depending on the candidate’s creativity, this can develop into a good story. During my SPM year… this sort of intro is considered great and I got A1. But Miss A was even better than me, but she too got A1. I wonder if like me, she was upset by the ridiculousness of the marking system… But such is the exam standard in our country.)
  • Once upon a time, when I was a 10 year old child, my father brought my whole family to Pulau Langkawi for a delightful vacation where we spent almost 2 weeks in a chalet of Pantai Chenang. As a busy executive in the hectic city of Kuala Lumpur, there are times when I wish that I could be transported to an island like Pulau Langkawi, where the atmosphere is that of serene calmness. I think, I would be happy in a rural area. (I think, this is grade B. Well, B for boring.  This girl is a city girl, and she remembers her old vacation when she was a child and she wants to go back there while dealing with a hectic executive life in an urban area. Boring, kan? There is no hidden story; no layers to the obvious. But this is also at the level of A1 during my SPM.)
  •  “A mind that is stretched by new experience can never go back to its old dimension.” It was the famous Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr, the Associate Justice of the Supreme Court of  the US,  who had said that piece of elevated wisdom. And now more than ever, I found the quote reverberated deep within my heart. What is it about being human that we can never be still and satisfied? The soul wants to wander and the mind wants to rebel at anything mundane and repetitive. Now as a Judge myself at the ancient age of 60, after presiding over thousands of various criminal cases and making life-altering judgments and verdicts, I had to make the most important decision of my life. Where shall I spend these lonely years of retirement? Did I even have that long to live? My last heart attack was last week, and it began to dawn on me that I needed a place where my old, broken soul who had seen so much hatred and atrocities in life could heal once again. (Can you see how different this intro is from the rest? This candidate begins the intro with a quote… showing that this candidate is a person who reads a lot and actually memorize quotes. From the very first sentence of her essay, this candidate is already impressive to the examiner! Her very first sentence is already impactful, you see! The protagonist in  this essay is described as being elderly, and is thinking about moving somewhere else for his retirement. It makes the important decision of where to move very critical for him who has just suffered from a heart attack and might not have long to live. He is philosophical when he talks about the soul wanting to wander and not easily satisfied. We as the reader would also wonder why his soul is broken and needs healing and we want to continue reading to understand the reason! What I mean is … there are layers upon layers to the story. It is not a simple story of “I simply want to move somewhere because that is the essay question I am supposed to answer in this question”. Hahha. In short, this candidate is successful in grabbing the examiner’s attention. This candidate is an essayist par excellence! This is the level of Miss A, my friend in MRSM Langkawi who really deserves A+++ if other less impressive essays are given A+. ) 
  • If I can choose where to live in Malaysia, I would definitely choose to live in Kota Kinabalu. I have been there once before, and it was love at first sight.  (Straighforward. No layers! Nothing extraordinary. Grammatically correct because the sentence is a simple sentence, anyway. But yup… these kind of essays also got an A just as long as the language was good enough, not to have made some crazy errors. See how different all of them are but yet all 4 essays do get the same damn A! Sheesh) 

In order to write well, you have to read well. And the average Malaysians don’t read non-academic material! So we do not know how to set a proper standard when marking English essays. We think simple introduction to an essay should get an A already.

Well, it shouldn’t.

Essays should reflect your language sophistication! Because if you cannot be good in your writing (when you have the time to ponder about what to write) then how can you be good at your speech (when you have little time to ponder and simply need to think on your feet and respond)?

Language is not simply making sure other people get what we mean. When it is an essay, it is about getting your message across in the most beautiful way possible. Content is the core; but language and organization make it excellent.

***

And to the Worried Malaysian who thinks that SPM is very important, well… yes, it is. But it is not the be all and end all of everything.

Fair, is fair, is fair.

Everyone has to pay when they make mistakes in exams. Even for a careless mistake, we have to pay for it. In fact, most exams are all about catching you with your carelessness and stressing you with your lack of time management and tricking you with your comprehension of the questions etc etc. Exams ARE designed to trick you and stress you out! So, should everyone then be given compassion for any of those mistakes? Come on!

And in this particular context, what makes this mistake even worse is…. it was not even a trick question! So think logically; should they not be given marks accordingly, with compassion not being made an issue?

How are they going to learn if they never pay for their mistakes? Stop trying to shield your children from life’s disappointments.

Looking back, I am so glad that I was brought up in an era where tough parenting was the norm. No one mollycoddled us or packed us in a cotton wool away from harm and disappointment. We dealt with stuff!

Resilience is developed by dealing with stuff. By not running away from problems but facing them head on! Confidence is developed when you knew you had faced many challenges before and yet, here you are, having come this far! It reminds you that whatever current challenge you are facing now is just like other past challenges you had faced…. that they too will pass with the passage of time!

In my growing up years, my father was very strict but his strictness made sense. He ran the household almost in a military-like style. I had a schedule for every single hour of my days. Even during weekends and school holidays, I had a revision schedule. There were rest periods, of course, but only after I earned them by performing my academic tasks properly. (Rest periods are also scheduled! Haha)

Even my life as a student at a boarding school was not as rigorous as my life as a student in my own home. (To be honest, my life as a student in MRSM Langkawi was not tough in the sense of being a student, but tough in the sense of having to deal with the lack of privacy and the excessive noise and the intrusive friends.)

Just like any kiasu Asian parents (haha), my father too placed a lot of emphasis on academic performance. When we were children, he told us about how difficult it was for him to convince my grandfather to let him continue his education until the STPM level. He kept saying “Waktu ayah dulu, tok wan tak pernah ambil tau ayah punya pelajaran. Ayah nak kena tolong tok wan memotong getah lagi bila cuti sekolah. Nak sambung universiti pun tak boleh, sebab tak ada duit. Lepas dah kerja, baru boleh sambung belajar. Ayah dapat degree lepas umur dah  30 lebih. Sekarang kerja Kak Long dan Kak Ngah belajar saja. Takkan itu pun tak boleh? Kalau ada pelajaran yang lemah, usaha sampai boleh. Kalau tak usaha, sampai bila-bila pun takkan boleh.”

But despite his insistence that we do well in our exams, he would never shield us from the consequences of our own carelessness in exams. He was not that kiasu, see? He would never have written something like the Worried Malaysian had written. He would say, “Lain kali baca soalan elok-elok. Kalau dah silap, memang salah kita…nak buat macam mana. Kena hadap sajalah. Belajar daripada kesilapan. Silap sekarang tak apa lagi. Jangan silap waktu UPSR/PMR/SPM.”

When I discovered the horror of Add Maths as a 16 year old, I told my father that I would never be good in Add Maths. I was afraid that I would not get straight As this time. What made it worse was I could not even attend any outside tuition because I was studying in a residential school. So during the school holiday at the end of my Form 4, my father hired a private tutor for me to help with my Add Maths. For that one month of school holiday, it was NOT a holiday!

But then, when the school open for the new semester of Form 5, my Add Maths result showed a dramatic improvement that impressed my friends. And my SPM result showed the string of straight As I had always wanted for the very last of my National Level Exam.

I  think, our mother sometimes felt sorry for us because we only had one hour of play time per day. The time when my father was outstation was the best time in our childhood. All of us ‘raya hindu’ playing non-stop. My mother would turn a blind eye but would remind us that my father would expect to see our tasks properly done by the time he came home.

Whenever my sister and I came back home later than 7.00 pm after one hour of outside play, we would get a stroke of rattan because we broke the rules. (Afterwards, my Kak Long and I would enter our room and started the game of blaming each other for not minding the time… but after awhile, we simply laughed about it.) If you compare my life to the other kids in the neighbourhood back then, you might say that I didn’t get the same amount of play time like they had. And the other kids kind of pitied me for it. But then, they also didn’t get the same kind of academic results that I got. And I kind of pitied them back. Haha.

So, life is actually quite fair, don’t you think? Not totally fair; not absolutely fair. But QUITE fair.

Because every action has a reaction! Every action has its own consequence and following its own law.

Sebab semua perkara ada sunnahtullahnya. Usaha tu ada sunnahtullah dia. Disiplin tu ada sunnahtullah dia. Banyak main pun ada sunnahtullah dia. Buat silap pun ada sunnahtullah dia. (I should repeat these sentences to myself every day. If only I can get back my level of discipline in studying when I was a kid…I would not have to face the horror of my life while preparing for my Part B exam. My discipline had disappeared by the time I finished high school as my father no longer cared about what I did with my time. Haha)

So, when you make your decision, remember the sunnahtullah of your decision. MOE must remember that if they decide to NOT penalize this mistake properly, then it would open a Pandora box for every mistake not being penalized. Everything can then be argued on the basis of compassion rather than fairness. And everyone then forgets that this is a big national exam we are talking about! NATIONAL LEVEL Exam! National Level Exam should follow strict rules and regulations!

Otherwise, don’t organize an exam! It would be a waste of everyone’s time.

P/S: How are we ever going to get our education system respected and recognized if we always give leeways in the system in order to ‘help’ our candidates. I am sure everyone still remembers the ‘Soalan bocor UPSR 2014’ as one of the worst scandal in the MOE back then. Even at the level of UPSR, our integrity has much to be desired. 

Up to the level of master among professional doctors, leaked questions are common and this is like an open secret! Everybody knows it! And we are talking about professional doctors whom we should be able to trust as having the best level of moral and integrity in the society. But sadly, even at that level, we are just like naughty school kids who would grab whatever leeways or ‘help’ we can find. I have friends in other specialties as well who are doing Masters, and THEY too admit that they got hold of leaked questions.

We all know the credibility of ANY exam is non-existent if leaked question and ‘leeways’  and ‘help’ are not just possible, but very highly probable. No matter how good your system is, when it is not trustworthy, it loses all credibility. 

SPM exam was the last exam that I took using the Malaysian Education system. My IB diploma, medical degree and specialist exams are all International and I prefer it that way. Nowadays, we should think globally! 

So when anyone dares to question my MRCPsych credibility or the credibility of any of the external pathway (MRCP, MRCPCH, etc) to my face, as though I am taking shortcuts in my training, I will just smirk and say in my heart “At least, my exam is world-recognized and meets the rigorous standard of examination that is set by an organization that is recognized everywhere. And I have never heard of any leaked questions that would destroy the credibility of the exam system. Unlike yours!” Once upon a time, I would have said those rebuttal sentences back to their faces, instead of just in my heart. But nowadays, I take refuge in the Malay saying that “Bukit tak runtuh dengan anjing yang menyalak.”

I am not the sort of person who would go around belittling others. My self-esteem doesn’t require me putting other people down or making my unwelcome criticism known in order to hurt other people’s feelings (unless I was feeling provoked), the way some people had done towards me when they talked about MRCPsych as though it is not as good as the Master pathway. It is my principle to support anyone pursuing their education in whatever way they prefer, because that is better than simply sitting on your bottom, not progressing. But in the past, I did give people a counter attack when they tried to condemn my decision to pursue my study via the external pathway. In the past, I paid back taunt for taunt. I was quite fierce in my retaliation, too.

However, nowadays, it might be a sign of maturity that I can ignore people who have a need to belittle other people’s qualification when their own qualification is very, very questionable! With the existence of leaked questions that does not fulfil the moral requirement of integrity, that kind of exam system would NEVER be recognized. So now,  I can ignore their noise and regard it as the hallmark of a jealous and insecure person… and I move on. Yeay, mature me!

Glad INTJ argues

Glorious

I was sitting in my room, in front of my laptop, thinking whether I should break the bad news first or the good news first to my dear blog readers. Finally, after a long, hard contemplation, I decided to break the bad news first so that the good news later can heal whatever pain the bad news might have caused. Say  Hooray! to logical progression (the Afiza’s version, anyway). Haha.

My dear readers, I have a bad news.

I failed….

….I failed to honour my post-exam promise. In fact, I have broken them so many times, I am embarrassed to even own up to the count. But yeah… I have gone berserk reading many fiction books for the past few weeks (not only one book per week as I had promised to do. My justification was “Nanti result exam keluar, you won’t be able to enjoy reading anymore. So do it now!”). I also have not started studying consistently every day as I had promised I would be doing (I am terrible, I know. I don’t like studying because I like fiction more. Haihh!) I also have not started reading any non-fiction or religious books yet (Yeah… I am hedonistic. Afiza is always ‘lagha’ and is always utterly lost in her fantasy world of fiction where everything is fair in the end and justice prevails, and the good shall always win and the bad will always perish. Haha). But I did socialize more in an effort to be erm, nice and more savvy at mingling with society… I went out a few times with friends and colleagues (when in fact, I’d rather be in bed, reading. Surprisingly, I did enjoy myself after I got over the fact that I had to postpone my reading in order to make time for socializing).

Have patience with me. I am learning to slowly give up letting fiction-reading monopolize all my free time. I am slowly building up the momentum. One day insya Allah… I will reach my target to reduce my fiction preoccupation to only one reading per week. You see… it takes time and training to alter a habit of a lifetime. I cannot do it drastically because I will surely fail at it! All my life… I read fiction almost every day! All my life! I am trying to change my unhealthy ways… to fill my mind with more academic and factual things than fanciful stories… but don’t expect abrupt result. I am only human, after all. Haha.

Well.. now that I have gotten the bad news over with, here comes the great part. Are you guys ready for the good news? *excited grin*

The good news is, Alhamdulillah, somehow, miraculously, GLORIOUSLY… I passed my MRCPsych Exam Part B. Alhamdulillah, Alhamdulillah, Alhamdulillah.

Allah, The Most Gracious, The Most Merciful, has been so gentle towards me. So merciful and so benevolent is He towards His undeserving slave. What did I do to deserve this happiness, I knew not.  But if Allah’s blessing must be earned, then I shall never be able to earn it. It is His Grace towards His slave… nothing I could ever do would ever qualify me for His  boundless mercy. I can only thank Him that He decided to have mercy on me regardless of my various sins and shortcomings.

Ya Allah, You know me in all my flaws. Yet,  You grant me happiness still. How patient You are with me. I am overwhelmed by everything I didn’t deserve that You bestowed to me regardless.  I can never say Alhamdulillah enough but I mean every single one sincerely and deeply.

***

I would like to share with you how truly epic my suffering for Part B was. I didn’t share this part of my Part B journey before, because I was preoccupied in worrying about whether or not I would actually pass. Now that I knew I have passed, I am more open to talking about stuff.

I was a pain in the proverbial ass for everyone around me throughout the duration of my Part B effort. At the start of my study leave, when I found out how MUCH I had to cover, I promptly shut myself off in my house, not replying my family’s whatsapp messages and limiting my involvement in the rest of the Whatsapp’s groups that I belonged to. All my friends were like “Afiza memang jenis ‘out of sight, out of mind’. Bila dia exam, tak ingat benda lain dah. Takut nak kacau Afiza, nanti dia marah.” Hahah. They were joking, of course. They knew I value all my friendships… but I am the sort of person who place priorities where they belong according to the level of their urgencies. I am not a social person, even in the best of time. And since exam is really NOT the best of time, I have a tendency to regress to my old self even more. My schizoid personality traits become more prominent when I am preoccupied. Haha. Friends who are very close to me did not mind that I was less responsive to their jokes/conversation in the whatsapp groups. They already knew me and they knew I would be back once the exam was over.

20171007_095615-1.jpg
How messy my work station was during my study leave! Believe me, I am not usually this sloppy.  *sheepish grin* The messiness of my desk is proportionate to the level of my preoccupation at any single time. 

Alhamdulillah for my parents and my family. They didn’t take it personally when I didn’t reply their messages promptly or when I did not answer their phone calls occasionally (because I was either sleeping my exhaustion away or simply couldn’t be bothered to turn on my phone). They have been so supportive. You see, I am a whiner (But I only whine to those who are close to me. Dengan orang lain, buat budget cool, tak cakap apa-apa. Haha). And they patiently listened to all my self-doubts and my incessant complaints about how I never get to enjoy my life  since I was young because I was always struggling with one exam after another! (I exaggerated, of course! I love my life when there are no exams)

My mother and my youngest sister accompanied me for my exam because they wanted to go sight-seeing in Singapore as well. (hotels and flights sponsored by my father.  Muchas Gracias, Papito! We love you!) I was studying my short notes throughout the journey from Kedah-KLIA-Singapore when an overwhelming sense of impending doom assailed my senses. (Hahah. Drama queen MUCH?) I was so tensed because I knew there were so many things I had already forgotten. I was saying to myself “How the heck am I going to answer my exam tomorrow if I have forgotten many stuff I have already read?” You see, there were so many materials to cover…. some of them I had read many weeks before but I didn’t get the opportunity to revisit them since (because I couldn’t read everything TWICE when I was struggling to just finish reading everything at least once. LOL ) So I was FRANTIC, going through everything all over again 2 days prior to my exam. At the same time, I did such a good job of stressing myself out with self-torturous blame “You should have studied sooner. You should have studied consistently. Of course you couldn’t read everything twice, because previously you were busy reading fiction! If you fail, you know you deserve the heartache.”

Hahah. See? I was really neurotic, even I cannot stand being around myself… so I don’t know how other people do it! (Unfortunately for my family, they have no choice. They have to be around me regardless and they have to love me anyway. I feel sorry for them. Haha.)

I was frowning and becoming inwardly annoyed at random people in the airport who were coughing, crying, laughing or clearing their throats. The slightest, most innocent thing that they did had the power to distract me when I really needed to focus at that time. I couldn’t remember how many times I had to take a deep breath in to calm myself down so that I would not glare at those random people menacingly. (Haha. Because if I were to do that, it would be very unreasonable of me, right?)

My mom turned to me and said “Kak Ngah… mak tau kak ngah boleh pass punya. Tak payah study dah. Kalau macam ni kak ngah lagi stress kan?”

“Mana boleh tak study, mak. Angah dah lupa semua benda. Angah kena study juga. Angah dah ready untuk tak tidur malam ni. Kalau tak, esok mesti angah tak boleh jawab.” (Yup… I only slept 2 hours the night before my exam. Until now, I can feel myself yawning just remembering how sleepy I felt at that time and YET I couldn’t sleep because I was so nervous!)

My youngest sister rolled her eyes and turned my worry into a comedy with her facebook status. (All my siblings love making fun of me. They said I am the most ‘garang’ in the family. But I think, I am not ‘garang’ enough actually. A ‘garang’ person won’t be made fun of as consistently and completely as this!)

Screenshot 2017-11-04 07.03.40

(I was posing behind my mom with my smiley face, like everything was cool and I had no stressor whatsoever. Hahaa. So, don’t believe everything you see in the social media, including all those great pictures of people having fun in facebook and instagram. Those pictures are not real and almost 90% of them are mere acts! Even though I was smiling, there really was nothing amusing at that time about my inner struggle worrying for how I would do in my exam the next day. So yeah, this was my fake smile! It looked genuine, though. Haha.) 

Initially, I didn’t even want to go to dinner. I told them that I just wanted to lock myself in the hotel room to study. But then I felt horribly guilty… I couldn’t bring myself to abandon my mother with  my youngest sister (whose sense of direction was non-existent, I think. I think I am the most travel-savvy person among the three of us. Haha). How would I cope if they got lost in the city? Instead of studying the night away, I would be frantic searching for them if they didn’t make it back to the hotel. Rather than worrying about the possibility of them being lost or getting in trouble in a foreign country, (in which case, I would not be able to concentrate with my studies anyway) I might as well just join them for a quick dinner.

And that was what I did. Look at how good I was at faking my smiles as though I was enjoying myself. All for the sake of taking pictures! Hahah. Behind the scene, I was like “Jom mak, cepat makan. Angah nak balik study ni.” LOL. I was in such a hurry I forgot to take pictures of the food. *facepalm* Sometimes, I wonder how my family can bear with me and my occasional bossy ways! I thank God for them every day of my life.

On the exam day itself, I was a nervous wreck. I was sleepy, exhausted and cranky. Two hours before my exam, I arrived at the Trent College and huddled myself at a tiny corner to continue revising my study materials. But Wallahi, I couldn’t concentrate for long. So, I decided to stop studying one hour prior to my exam time. My brain couldn’t take it anymore. I could feel that my brain was fatigued and it would not be good if I walked into the exam hall in this pitiful condition. I walked around the area, doing my breathing and relaxation technique. I bought Coca-Cola and drank it slowly, savouring the taste fully (Coca-Cola was my favourite childhood drink. I boycotted Coke when I was a medical student as a protest against their support to the Zionist cause. But occasionally, I would indulge my craving. I especially crave for Coke when I am stressed. If you see me drinking Coke, you know the reason for it. When I first started boycotting Coke, it was hard for me. But these days, I could go for months without touching Coke. In fact, when I was a medical student, I went for years without it. Alhamdulillah, I am no longer that obsessed with Coke. Now, if only I can replicate my success with Coke when it comes to reading fiction, I would be a very happy woman, indeed.). 

As I was walking around the area with Coke in my hand, I gave myself a pep talk. “You know, everything has been written. You have done your part. It would never be perfect. You can only do so much. Exam is like marriage. You are never ready until you have no choice but to do it.” (Hahha. Yeah, I can crack a stupid joke when I am stressed. But at least, I was laughing while thinking it out. That calmed my nerves a bit.)

I said a lot of istighfar. I talked to Allah a lot in that last hour. I told Him all my worries and how much I was dependent on Him alone. I remember the prayer of Prophet Musa  when he was stranded in the desert of Madyan, a lone wanderer with only the clothes on his back as his wordly possession. He had said to Allah, “Aku ini terhadap apa sahaja kebaikan yang Engkau turunkan padaku, tersangatlah fakir.” I am in need of whatever help you can bestow on me. Whatever help, in whatever form, anything… I need it.  At that point, I had run out of effort already.

As I have mentioned before, the exam itself was hard. One third of 200 plus questions were on statistics and critical appraisal alone. There were a lot of maths and stats. (I have  hated maths all my life!). By rights, I should not spend more than 54 seconds per question. But I’d spent so much time on critical appraisal and statistics that there was very little time left for the clinical part. (The reason I had used up so much time on the statistics section was because I had my OCD attack at that time. The questions in the statistic section was long and required deeper analysis. And I calculated, recalculated, and reconfirmed my answers over and over again. So I ended up spending more time on statistics than I should) I went into my panic mode when I discovered that I still had 60 questions to answer in the 30 minutes time that I had left. So at that point, I had to answer every question in 30 seconds without bothering to think carefully. For the last 60 questions of my Part B paper, I just went with my instantaneous instinct.

What I did actually violated every principle of my usual exam-taking SOP. I am the sort of person who would go through each answer before I commit to the right one. Even when the question is obvious and I can already see the right answer straightaway in one of the options, I STILL need to go through in my head why other answers are wrong. For example, I would talk to myself inside my head, “The question asks about this. Answer A is wrong because of this. Answer B is wrong because of this and this. Answer C is wrong because it is not relevant. Answer D is wrong because the question was more specific. So, Answer E is correct because….bla bla..” 

I rely on that procedure so much in my exam-taking career so far! For every single question, I would do that mental debate with myself. Check and recheck, and tell myself my reason for choosing or not choosing each option; why each option is wrong or right! I never deviated from the procedure before. When I was doing Part A, I did the same procedure for every single question and it was hard to do. I ended up having just enough time for Part A. But I was still able to stick to that procedure.

But this time, with 60 questions left in 30 minutes, I rushed through every question and shaded the answer without bothering to do my usual reasoning! At the end of the exam, I felt terrible! I felt like I was totally dependent on pure luck and very little on my reasoning prowess. Honestly, I felt that I was being reckless with this exam! But what choice did I have? Should I be reckless or should I be careful but end up leaving some questions unanswered for lack of time? The choice was obvious at that point, wasn’t it? Looking back,  I didn’t feel I could do any better. “If you have to be reckless, then you have to be reckless, Afiza. You have to do what you have to do.”

When my parents asked me how I did during my exam, I was earnest when I said, “I did the worst I have ever done!” 

So when I saw my exam result yesterday, I was simply overjoyed. Another miracle in my life, thank God. After all the headaches, heartaches, worries and tears, interspersed with prayers, hopes and wishes, Allah gave me something joyous.

And Alhamdulillah, it was glorious!

 

Glorious

In the silence of the night,
It was You that brought me the light.
In my frustrated mental wrath, 
You guided me to the straight path.
It was You who hushed my mental niggle,
With consoling  words into my mind,
“Be brave, dear slave, in your struggle,
Believe me in the end you shall find,
That the outcome shall be glorious.”

So I toiled, I burned the midnight oil,
So I prayed, remembering what You said,
“To seek help through patience and prayer”
Those reminders a soothing balm to my ear
That calmed the chaotic mess in my mind
Telling me to “oh, be brave in your struggle
Because in the end you shall find,
That the outcome shall be glorious.” 


So I charged ahead, went to war,

fought the battle, to reach the bar,
thinking I would never win,
that I was surely now beaten,
Except something great happen,
Something marvellous,
Nothing short of miraculous. 
Dear Allah, as you promised, 
It was glorious. 


I lowered my head to the ground,
To You I am eternally bound,
I thought aloud, it echoed in my mind.
“It is You, oh Allah, the Glorious One.”

-Afiza Azmee-
3/11/17
9.50 pm

P/S: My mother said in a joking manner, “Nasib baik Kak Ngah pass, kalau tak habislah kita semua malam ni. Mak pun akan pening kepala sekali.” Alida laughed and added  “Aku rasa Allah bagi hang pass sebab Allah kesian kat kami. Kalau hang tak pass, kami semua akan stress sekali. So actually, hang pass demi kemaslahatan kami semua”. Hahha. Yup, they love making joke at my expenses! Really, I am just not ‘garang’ enough! 

Post-Exam Promises

Warning: this post contains exam rants and regrets. Please don’t read further if you cannot take some whining! Because this one contains a lot of whining! 

 

Okay, the real title of this blog post should be The Post Exam Promises That I Always Break. 

Yup…. I made the same darn promises over and over again since I was a kid every time I finished an exam, but I always ended up breaking them after some time. My consistency and reliability in breaking my post-exam promises is so impressive, the chance that I will break them again this time will be almost 1.

P(event) = 0.9999999

The event here being: Afiza breaking her post-exam promises again.

My post-exam promises always consist of:

  1. I will study consistently and be prepared as early as many, many months before my next exam. I will not rely on study leave alone in order to cram everything. Study leave duration is NOT ENOUGH to really learn everything I should know. I will not repeat this mental torture ever again and will be more committed and consistent from now on. Please God, just let me pass this one and I will behave MUCH better for my next exam.
  2. I will only read commercial fiction once a week. For the rest of the week I will make myself study and venture out into other necessary life activities. I will be more community-oriented and sociable and I will go out with friends and  ACTUALLY socialize with REAL people rather than with imaginary characters of  a book. I will learn to be nice and tolerant with other people when I socialize with them (which is something I don’t have enough practice doing because I always spend time with books). I will not let reading fiction monopolize the bulk of my time to the extent that I ignore the more important aspect of my life such as my academic learning and my relationship with my friends, and neighbours and my own family. I will keep in touch with all my friends after this exam and will not abandon them the way I did during my study leave. I will be NICE. I will reply whatsapp messages promptly. I will return phone calls straightaway.
  3. I will read more religious books and non-fiction. I will spend my time wisely. I will have more self-control regarding the frequency of my fiction reading.

You have no idea how difficult it is for me to keep those promises. And like I’ve said before, I always break those particular promises. The lure of new books from my favourite authors and new stories from new authors… they will ensnare and entrap me in mid-resolve and I lost myself.

***

It is ridiculous how much time I arrange my activities around my reading habits.  The problem is, it is so hard to change the habit of a lifetime.

When I am exhausted, I want to read stories to relax.

When I am already relaxed, I want to read books to maximize this pleasant feeling of relaxation.

When I am sad, I want to read stories to remind me of happy endings.

When I am happy, well, I thought I should multiply this happy feeling by reading. It will make me even happier.

When I am angry, I read stories to calm down.

When I am calm, I read stories so that I can absorb them better.

See? I can find many excuses and various reasons to read fiction for every occasion and every emotion.

But these stories are junks! They are pure entertainment! They are not real! I didn’t gain any earth-shattering insight or ground-breaking information from them. In fact, my hobby is correctly termed as ‘lagha’. While it might be okay for me to indulge in them once a week, but to do so for MOST of whatever free time I have….day in and day out… that is like a sickness. I know that!

And while I was struggling to cram everything I had to know during the one month study leave, I gained an insight regarding the debilitating nature of my condition. “If only I had started studying earlier! Kalaulah aku guna semua masa yang ada waktu aku baca buku cerita dulu-dulu dengan membaca dan menghafal my academic material, I won’t be suffering this much. Why do I always do this to myself over and over again? Orang lain ada free time, buat locum! Dapat juga duit! Otherwise, they do something very adult like cooking for their family. You? You read stories! When are you gonna grow up?”

Yes… you have no idea how many times I berated myself.  But like I said, I had done the same self-scolding in the past, but I always forget and relapse into my addiction every time the exam is over.

During that one month study leave, I hardly went out of the house. When I finally came out of my cave for some much-needed fresh air, it was because I was so tired of eating my home-cooked nasi goreng/ bihun goreng/ Maggi over and over again that I just HAD to eat something else and therefore I had to go out. Otherwise the only fresh air I enjoyed would be from the balcony of my house. Towards the end of my study leave, my mother actually brought me food because I just couldn’t be bothered to get out of the house anymore. She was probably worried I was not eating well. (And she would be right)

And I totally blamed myself. Because time is so precious and I have been wasting them by reading fiction all these time and simply relied on study leave to cram everything.

The problem with me is that, I will only do something I dislike when I absolutely have to do it. And study leave and exams force me to study when all I want to do is to read fiction, write my book reviews and occasionally exercise with hiking, jogging and an occasional weight training. Those are ALL I want to do during my free time when I don’t have exams. I am absorbed in them and I think those activities are more than enough to keep me fully occupied and satisfied. So you see, without exams, it is so easy for me to allow myself to drift away in the clouds of my fantastic tales. My parents had been saying to me since I was a child, “Kak Ngah, cuba kalau Kak Ngah baca buku sekolah macam kak ngah baca buku cerita. Mesti lagi pandai. Buku cerita tu tak bagi faedah satu apa pun” My mom said that every time I finished my ujian bulanan when my results was not as good as it should be. And I simply told her,  “Nanti periksa akhir tahun, angah buat betul-betul lah.” And I always delivered that promise. During my final end of year exam, I made sure I did well enough to maintain in the first class. And in all my national big exams, I got straight As… because I was able to cram in the last minute.  I was happy to push myself and went all out during those final moments as long as throughout the year I can enjoy my hobby.

And this pattern of last minute cramming persisted throughout medical school.

But I think, it must be the ageing process in me. I cannot cram as well as I could when I was younger! I think the recent exam was the hardest exam of my life! I am not kidding! Not joking! Not exaggerating! It was HARD!! I fear for my result but knew that it is too late to regret. I must learn from this lesson and do better next time. I hope I will pass even though I knew it would take a miracle.

This time, I cannot break my post-exam promises. I know now that my brain is not as good as it was before.

Below is the findings on how our memory and learning evolve as we age:

  • IQ peaks at 25 – plateau until age 60-70 , then declines (maybe my brain declines early.  Hahaha.That was how I felt during my recent cramming fiasco)
  • Simple recall becomes difficult as we age (darn right!)
  • Working memory shows a gradual decline and worse with increased complexity of task and increased memory load (Yes…there was a lot to remember and my memory load was overloaded! My hippocampus simply could not take it anymore!)

I cannot afford to waste my time with fiction anymore. Cramming doesn’t work as well as it used to.

I am aging! *sobs sobs*

I told myself, that I have to do what I have to do. This time, what I HAVE to do is stop being so absorbed in fiction and grow up into a responsible adult who does what she must! And that is painful. Like making over my life.

It is a life makeover. *sigh*

I hope, I don’t break my post-exam promises this time. God knows I cannot afford to break them.

 

P/S: I just finished reading Dan Browns’ latest book entitled Origin that came out just a few weeks ago. But that was not exactly breaking my post-exam promises. I specifically wanted a break after the exam, so I read the book to reward myself after the crazy tough exam. But my next reading will be next week. I will try to stick to the schedule. Once a week. No more! Yup! Wish me luck, won’t you?