Mar 29, 2012

Family #1.

Dulu Farah selalu suruh aku buatkan air teh untuk sarapan kalau aku balik bercuti. Kami dua beradik biasanya akan bersarapan pukul 10 pagi sebab kelas dia sesi petang. Dia kata teh aku sedap, tak tawar macam yang Ma buatkan. Haha.

Rasa macam baru semalam. Sekarang Farah dah masuk tingkatan satu. Dah berkain biru muda, macam yang aku pernah pakai. Pergi sekolah yang sama aku pernah pergi, sebab walaupun dia dapat 5A dalam UPSR tapi tiada rezeki untuk ke sekolah berasrama penuh. Akan buat rutin yang sama, pergi ke tempat yang sama, membaca buku yang sama. Dan kalau kami berdiri bersebelahan, dia akan kelihatan sedikit tinggi daripada aku.

Farah, adik aku yang kedua bongsu.

Mar 26, 2012

What about life?

I have probably been bitching around now and then about how I hate my life as a medic student. How like I DON'T have a life. Maybe I've been lashing out on the innocent 'Medic'. Haha.

The truth is, deep down inside, I know I don't hate Medic. What I actually hate is how incapable I am to stand out and be that someone that people would turn to when they wanted help. How helpless I feel when I stare blankly when doctors ask questions. How clueless I was when my uncle asked my opinion about his daughter's congenital condition. How I feel like I've let down every one who had put hope in me. Because my knowledge about any subject is just average. A so-so result every time I sit for an exam. So, how can I help people when I can't even help myself to get a better grade? It is so different back when I was in high school where I could be proud of my exam results.

*palms to the face*

Another reason is that I'm afraid I cannot be a good doctor to serve my country. The difference between what I know and what I'm supposed to know is like an apple in an orchard. How can I pick up all of the apples when I only have a pair of hands? So instead, I only pick one. Haha, another stupid metaphor. But seriously, I'm afraid I may cause someone to die because of my lack in knowledge and skills.

Studying MBBS has bring out the worst in me, like seriously. But not to forget, somehow it has made me a better person. Because medic is a way to view life from another perspective. It's not all about fame and money, it's about what we're willing to sacrifice for another person's sake. How to learn to be unselfish.

So medic, please be nice to me. Pretty, please?

Mar 24, 2012

The lousy truth.

I know I choose to walk on that slippery path again.
Can't help it.
It's time to grow up, don't you think so?
I'm becoming 23, for God's sake.

Let's not complicate things and think too much.
Medic needs your brain.

*can't stop smiling*

Ah, sudah.

Mar 23, 2012

And everyone started to get cranky.

Tiga subjek hardcore dan satu subjek pyscho, bak kata ayam.
Cuak weh.

Mar 22, 2012


The truth is, whenever my mp3 player plays the songs that have mutual memories between us, I skip them to the next song. Those lyrics and those moments keep flashing back like a blissful autumn wind.

I'm afraid I may explode with the feeling of longing for the past.

Mar 21, 2012

Terima kasih.

Ada berita gembira hari ini. Juga berita yang membuatkan baki cemburu aku pada manusia-manusia lain berganda-ganda. Berita yang buat aku berfikir, masa hadapan adalah misteri yang Tuhan sembunyikan supaya kita berlatih untuk bersabar. Aku dan kamu, tiada siapa yang tahu apa penghabisannya. Mungkin sudah tamat, mungkin belum bermula, mungkin tiada apa-apa. Harapan, ada. Tapi sudah aku tanam dalam-dalam tanpa ada kesan. Biarlah.

Selamat berbahagia, untuk siapa saja yang membaca.

Mar 18, 2012

Larger than life.

Last night I watched House. The episode where there's this man who became the 'Subway Hero' after he saved a woman from being crashed by a train when she had an epileptic seizure right on the track. Anyway, that's not what I wanted to write about when I decided to open my laptop instead of finishing the notes on myocardial infarction.

House lied to both his girlfriend and best friend, just to spend some time for himself in front of TV watching his favourite show, instead of hanging out with Wilson to bowling or having a birthday dinner with Cuddy and her mom. House and I are more or less alike, apart from the jerk and narcissist part.

Then it came across my mind, will I do the same thing when I actually have someone important in my life? Because I like to be alone most of the time. The idea of solitude give me a peace of mind, where I don't have to consider anyone else except myself when it comes to doing something. A part of me scares of what I've become. Being alone means pushing people away. And when I keep pushing for too long, I'm afraid no one will bother to come inside anymore.

When you live as yourself for your entire life, it is somehow impossible to become someone else.

Mar 17, 2012

The leftover.

It was early January 2008. We were doing this homestay programme in Negeri Sembilan. And at that moment I was waiting in line to get some drinks in the hot sunny day. Then there was him, smiling in front of me while holding an empty paper cup to be filled with iced syrup. He said 'Hi, Asmaa' so casually that made me looked behind to search for another person with the same name. Realizing I was the only person with that name standing there, I looked at his face and smiled back. Smiling is my default expression whenever I encountered someone. Can't help it.

It felt nice and awkward at the same time. We never talked to each other before. And I never assumed he knew my name. He said hi three times that day. That was the beginning of the complicated story between Doraemon and I.

But that was not the first time I saw him. It was eight months before when we were in the same group during orientation week. We went to the same event in 2006 but never met, of which I was one of the people who were asked to come on stage and pick up a name for the lucky draw competition. If he was paying attention, maybe he would remember I was the one who delivered the prize to my own schoolmate.

This fate business, isn't it funny?

Mar 16, 2012

I want to don't want to give a damn anymore.

I have been distracted for too long. This rebellious thing I made to choose who I wanted to be instead of who I should be is straying me away. I wanted to rebel. I needed to rebel. Because everyone around me put so much expectations that I worried I would let them down, or worse, even myself. It suffocated me so much. It felt like a burden so heavy that I decided to run away instead of forcing myself to accept that I need to change. I did change, twice. I don't know why is it so hard to go back to who I was before.

Let's stop this, shall we? Going back and forth without having a stand. To hell with what other people would think. Let me find my own way, not what you point and ask me to follow.

Mari, mencari kembali diri yang hilang.

Mar 15, 2012

I just did a stupid thing.

Stupid, stupid thing.

Mar 13, 2012

Go Google.

We had attended this one particular patient this morning in the OPD. Let's call her Mrs. A, who came with her husband and her brother. Actually she was forced to come as her husband kept pushing her to meet the doctor as he noticed she's not well, mentally.

I've met several psychiatric patients before but to this date, she left quite an impression. Mrs. A had been having delusions since 1997 and since then was on medications but she stopped them because of the side effects. As any doctor would expect, the symptoms came back. And worse.

She is so deluded that she keeps telling Dr. B to call her Mrs. C and she believed that her husband is not her husband anymore, that he is some villain who wants to hurt her family. She doesn't even allow him to touch her. They have a daughter. When Mr. A asks Dr. B to prescribe his wife some medications, Mrs. A insists that she will never ever take them. She is so convinced that her mental condition is normal and that other people around her, including her husband, just want to hurt her and her daughter.

Dr. B told us that she probably has paranoid schizophrenia with Capgras syndrome after they all left the room. Most of the time during the consult, I looked at Mr. A's face and saw the tension that he had to bear with his wife's illness for the past 15 years, and maybe for the rest of their lives. How would it feel like when your own wife doesn't even recognize you? And worrying that maybe his daughter will have the same disease in her later age?

It's a cruel way to lose someone.

Mar 12, 2012

The art of reading.

Aku mudah jatuh cinta. Ok, that sounds too corny. Aku mudah jatuh suka, dengan penulisan seseorang. Bila aku terserempak secara kebetulan dengan blog-blog yang indah, aku boleh habiskan masa berjam-jam membaca entri-entri yang terdahulu, biasanya aku mulakan daripada yang pertama. Yang mungkin si penulis sendiri sudah lupa akan apa isinya. Membaca penulisan seseorang bagaikan mengenali dirinya dari dalam. Every word is every moment, every pain, every joy, every emotion being jotted down in visible forms. It's a life people do not notice when they look in your eyes or when they tangle their hand with yours. That's the beauty of it.

Abstract, yet concrete. 

It's like smoking pot.

Buku-buku ini bakal terbang dari Bangalore ke Kuala Lumpur, dan seterusnya ke Kuala Terengganu, dan akhirnya akan sampai di Dungun dengan menaiki kereta Stream berwarna hitam. 

I bought a wooden bookshelf on my last holiday especially to accomodate these books, and the others that I will buy later on. Not including those pile of tons of medical books. Books in India are bloody cheap, and cheaper if you buy them online. What a heaven on earth.

I still have about 73 books in  my wishlist. I promise myself to make sure I buy them all before returning home for good. Still have about 19 months to do so. Money is another question.

Addiction will have a price to pay for. Literally or figuratively.

Mar 11, 2012

And what could I give to take it all back?

Seeing my little sisters commenting this and that about their admiration towards some Korean pop stars made a dent somewhere in my heart. How come they have grown to this age so fast? And how come they belong to that group of teenagers who would go crazy about these stuffs? I made them like this, I guess. Last two years I 'introduced' them to my sisters, not knowing they would turn up like this. I saw a stack of magazines full of these so-called idols' pictures in their rooms every time I get back home during holidays. When I heard my mother nagging about how they would stare in front of TV watching the almost-naked women and heartthrob-looking men dancing and singing in various shows instead of doing homeworks, my heart sinks further down. 'This is all my fault', I would weep silently.

They were so little, so precious and innocent. Why is time so cruel to let them age in the speed of memory, not entirely in front of my own eyes?

It makes me sad.

Mar 9, 2012


I heard your name everywhere. Here and there. Stories of you are told close enough for me to hear and for my heart to shiver. It gives me this feeling of a close vicinity to your being. When in fact, you are out of my reach.

How pathetic is that?

I have a curse. I break everything I touch. Because once I like something, I'll grip on tight not wanting to lose it. And then later I will find it shattered in my own hands.

I broke you enough. Not anymore.

Mar 7, 2012

My buddy.

Nescafe and I have been friends for almost 17 years already. Close friends for 4 years, and then grew apart for the recent 8 years. We live close, actually used to live close in the same neighbourhood (she moved out last year), on the same street, went to the same primary school and high school for lower form and in the same class for 9 years. We both used to walk home from school drenching in sweat under the glaring sun. Talked about pop stars and those popular pop songs of the early 2000's. Nescafe and I were always seen together. It's weird if there's only one of us. We had this habit of flipping through the dictionary whenever we came across some words we didn't understand. When we're in Form 1, my bed was above Nescafe's. Actually I want to get the bed next to her but I registered late, so only the upper beds were available. As long as I remember, we only fought once. For a silly thing I don't even remember now. She loved iced nescafe and Justin Timberlake.

She's my best friend then, if that's how you put it.

After PMR, I went to a boarding school in other state while she stayed in the same school with my other friends. It was heartbreaking at first because Nescafe had been my only partner whenever I want to do something. She's there to listen to me mumbling over things, the back that I slapped when I got excited, the person whom I shared the silly jokes, the one who enjoyed accompanying me stalking people passing by the class  and the same person who shared her answer with me during exams. On the first day in the new school, my heart ached because that person was not there anymore. I was all alone. I didn't get very well with new people whom I just met. I was the awkward one. Always will be.

I think that's when I started doing things alone, on my own. Because when you get so dependent on other people, you just feel lost when they are not there beside you anymore. From that moment until the second year of med school, I always walk alone. Every time, everywhere. Then, step by step I let people in. Because you cannot be alone forever. But of course, I'm so used to being alone until I cannot adapt and change my individualistic attitude. Even now.

I still wonder what would happen if I had stayed with her, instead of parting ways. One choice would lead to another and another, and then one day you stop and look back at all those choices you didn't take. And the two words will always hunt you your entire life. The famous 'what if'.

You know what bothers me the most every time I think of her? That we never have a photo taken together. Not even one.

Mar 6, 2012

Note to self.

When I get sad, I want to be alone. But when I'm alone, I get sadder. This vicious cycle of self-loathing is not gonna get you anywhere, my dear. It just breaks you into pieces and pieces until you don't know anymore how to glue them back together.

So, get out of that before it's too late.

And, smile!

-first day of Psychiatry posting in the hospital-

Mar 5, 2012


Aku pernah menangis seorang diri dalam auto sepanjang jalan dari pejabat FRRO hingga sampai di hadapan bangunan apartment. Lewat petang pertengahan November tahun lepas. Sedang mengalami kekecewaan dan kemarahan yang bercampur baur menjadi satu perasaan yang sangat jelik, terhambur keluar tak sempat ditahan. Rasa sangat keseorangan menghadapi dunia yang kejam. Dan terdetik dalam hati kecil, kan bagus kalau aku ada seorang suami sekarang untuk berkongsi sakit. Sangat kebudakan.

Dan pagi ini aku bangun dengan mata yang merah dan bengkak. Terus ponteng kelas. Aku malas mahu mencipta alasan palsu bagi orang yang bertanya.

Menipu juga memenatkan, tahu?


I'm so depressed lately I don't really know why. This hollowness I feel inside, like I am an empty vessel with no soul. The sorrow that creeps deep down, I cannot reach the bottom. I get angry with everything around me. I feel like I live a purposeless life, breathing in the air only to find myself doing the things I don't want to give a damn about. It feels so meaningless. I have no motivation at all to walk out of the room. I skipped classes very frequent, more often than I did the entire last year. My sleep cycle is a mess. I am a mess. I feel like I'm falling off a cliff without trying to reach something to hold on to. I miss the things I left behind, the things very dear to me but I can no longer pull them back close into my embrace. The satisfaction that I longed for.

I just want to get out.

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