Dear doctor.

It's here.
It's coming.
It's near.

I don't want to be overly ambitious.
Even when i had the time and energy and ideas jotting it down wasn't really an easy task.
Now that I'm about to face it; the horror, the unknown, the struggle, the unkind stage of my life I wasn't going to expect anything more.

It's been a while since i've been treated like an idiot. It's been a while that my stupidity has been treated as it is. Usually every dumb questions i asked, will be treated as a genuine curiosity, followed by careful explanation till I geddit.

So, dear myself,
Learn to accept that those days are over. No point in comparing European professionalism and respect to our very own culture who proudly claimed that "budi bahasa budaya kita"


Expect to be scold, shout at, humiliate, exhausted, stabbed in the back.
Even don't know how will you react, try.
All the zen theory you've been reading up until this point, it's time to reread and put them to test.

Dear doctor,
The very least, don't you forget to be grateful in littlest things.
Every successful blood taken.
Every insignificant skills learnt.
Recognize this. And appreciate and celebrate this rare tiny moments.
So that in the end of the day,
No matter however hell it seems,
there's that littlest flicker of joy and love in doing what choose to do for a living.


Dear Faarhana,
Do not take all your anger and frustration onto your loved ones.
They do not need to pay the price for random people's fault.

WHAT EVER IT IS, SLOW IT DOWN, BE MINDFUL OF YOUR WORDS AND TONE.

Dear me,
Dimmed light, sipping green tea, soft radio playlist on radio like right now won't come as often as i'd like.
Please, if you have the chance, put a facial mask on, give yourself this moment again.
Because that's what you love to do ever since i knew you.

Be kind to yourself.
Pick yourself up.
Forgive yourself and make room for errors and growth, both as a doctor and a human.

You'll survive this, InsyaAllah.
You always do.

p/s: I love you.



 

I must remember this.

I think i have found my "it" home.

It's a little late at night as I'm writing this, but i cant resist to document this thoughts. Yes, prolly the dimmed light, the soft distant cry of lonely cricket that triggers for words to flair more easily for me at this hour, but i just can't stop thinking about it.

The house belongs to a friend, a very lucky girl that i'm madly envious of more after stepping into her family house last few days. It's not a fair jealousy since she herself is now a talented young architect in an architect-born blood line but there it is. (i meant this on a really high note Haidar!)

I've heard about it long before. But by chance, I brave myself driving one and half hour all the way to her home. (With a nice long chat with Elya, of course!)

It's not your typical luxurious home, with over the top imported designer furniture that stares down at you or a sofa set so grand that intimidates and makes you feel uncomfortable to sit on.

While they're certainly not cheap, it is a very tasteful and cleverly used space and colour, a thoughtful blend of coziness and high-end. A distinctive mix of function and charm.

The warmth you felt, still resonate even days after you left.

It reminds me of a Scottish countryside.
It reminds me of an eclectic array of Barcelona.
It reminds me of the romantic Parisian walkways.

Ah, well, we all have different taste-bud. To each it's own.

But for me, all the unexplained desire that I've been looking for in a dream house, a huge chunk of it is there. A healthy balance of East and West.

I left Europe a month ago, stepping into her house just takes me back there.

Till then!

My out-loud vanity.

Putting myself out there. I mean here. Out here.

I don't know why i am over exposing myself here. Nor that I'm trying to justify anything. 

We were all over flooded with perfect selfie pictures all over social media, who sometimes manage to land themselves on billboards endorsing various hijab house or even shampoo. 

That instantaneous fame over how we look has become the very pursuit of creating a perfect image every time we snap a picture. Like we're all born with an imaginary elf in our head that we're trying so hard to impress.

Being a control freak that I am, everytime someone shoved a camera in my face gives me a sudden panic attack, knowing I can't really tell how I look straying from a comfort of taking it on my own. I respond to this in 2 ways, either shy away or simply just posed with an awkward overly-done-trying-too-hard expression.

The problem being is, I know what i want to see in a picture of myself, that flatters whatever thing that needs flattering. That radiates joy, self sufficiency, contended and at peace with my own thought as i gaze to nothingness. 

That raw fear of having my story told through imagery I do not control.

Freak. I know.

That often left me and the people who's involved exhausted and frustrated. 

Like any other, this mandates practice. And patience. Very few that are around me have the patience to let me practice. I understand constantly asking someone to repeatedly take picture until it met your requirement is awfully dull and intricately exhausting.  I will be often dismissed with a what-else-do-you-want conclusion. Very often i just surrender to this notion and stop trying all together. And left me intimidated.

My point?

I come to realize that this is not just a superficial case of feeding your vanity. It digs deeper than that. It's about how well do we perceived ourselves. How comfortable are we on how we look, what we wear, how tall or short we are. It's a struggle of self-worth. And acceptance. 

I read up upon this issue, and find a few solutions which might come in handy.

Next time someone point a camera at me, I'm going to pretend that i'm seeing a the most friendliest, nicest person I know, forget who else might see this picture and focus replying with the warmest smile I can master.

And just why the sudden urgent?

We are having serious talk about wedding. The one day I'll be photographed the most. And that raised a special concern. 

Prolly you don't suffer from this. And for that I adore you.

Lets just say I miss myself in Spain.

Well, geddit now?

That day.

That day came.

That day that is most talked about, or that has been a primary creamy center of my twenty-something-hood

has arrived. 

That day was passing my very last exam in medical school. That day was as fresh as it was just yesterday.

I bow down to God. I called my family. I jumped around while texting Ed. I had one of the best sleep I have in years.

As magical as it might sound, it did feel unreal. That I'm-too-happy-this-cannot-be-happening moments.

Please don't tell me, on that day, that the best years of my life is about to end. That what comes next will put my wits attest. Even all that might be true, let me have these days. Let me giddy up over it until I'm flat on the ground exhausted.

I beg my own thoughts and those who already went through this window, let me have this.

This raw sense of accomplishment, I planned to hold on to it for a little while for I knew deep in my bone that I owe this to myself.

. 

A sticky post.

I came across this interesting guy on Ted Talk that literally follow everything safety-health-knowledge related lists or guide to the core. Just to see how it turn out.
The talk is called How Healthy Living almost Killed Me.
He follows everything including wearing helmets for protection while watering the plants. In his house. Yes, indoor.

Well the outcomes are very much life changing, some out of many does stick, according to him.

I watch that video long time ago. It just came back to me when I literally crave for the bitter pureness of a cup of green tea before I go bed.

Drinking green tea without sugar at the beginning sounds very Zen in theory. Let me assure you, it is not so at first in practice.

I had to make a mental note to drink it, believing it'll slowly eventually does good to my system in a way that I can't see.

What struck me by surprise is, that mental note now become a longing that feels incomplete without, a crave, it became a habit.

It takes a while for me to realize this, but what once become a forced action, be it from you or others can become a second nature, if you're committed to it long enough until the stage it will finally stick.

Here are some i acquired over the past years that I didn't realize since it had already become a part of my daily rituals rooting from various events and stages.

1) Making my bed first thing. 
I never left my room with unmade bed. I got this from my five boarding school years, where we will be fine RM 2 for leaving a messy bed behind.

2) Reading before sleep. 
You notice how your mind always come up with a good idea or going over conversations that you should or shouldn't have or wonder about as broad as the endless sky, well, reading before bed not only serves a good sleep-inducer (i mean, who doesn't snooze while reading?!) but it works as well as taming those thoughts into a one word at a time moments, allowing your brain to slow down, ready to put your eyes to rest.

List goes on.

The conclusion to this what might sound like another health-related-i-know-better-than-you post is that, repetition is a mother of all wisdom and it works.

I want to repeat one thing this year. Just one. (see I'm repeating already)
I want to be kinder to myself. I want to look out for myself more. Being able to pick myself up on my own. 
Consciously.

A wise man once told me, it's OK to look up to yourself, because it's not the same thing as boasting to others.

Goodnight.