The Return of The Dreamer

I had virtually given up hope on being able to write anything of more than facebook-status length anymore, when, one fine fortnight ago, I surprisingly managed to churn out a speech for my Malaysian commencement ceremony within one day. Of course, I had great help from my mother and father then, but it did give me a thread of hope for this one.

Four months have passed since my last tiny post, and a whole chapter of history has passed since then. I’ve graduated and become a doctor, technically speaking. I am yet to feel like one though, and when a staff nurse asked me whether I was a doctor (doing locum perhaps) at my father’s workplace the other day, I told her no, I was just the doctor’s daughter.

Indeed I was. But I have officially added another title of responsibility to my portfolio which will unquestionably be asked of me on the Day of Judgment- slave, daughter, sister, friend, neighbour, student, and now, doctor. No pressure. ;)

In practice, though, I’m still holding on to the role of a student I so cherish for just a little bit more, and if my current plan succeeds, it will be the most satisfying achievement in my eyes so far inshaallah (I’m being cryptic I know, don’t mind me).

I have grown so much over the years and I sincerely thank Allah for planning my life so beautifully for me, making me learn the way I did, something I probably would not have gained had I spent the last 6 years somewhere else on this good earth. I will sorely miss Russia (I already am, actually)- for the colourful seasons, nice local people I’ve met, great variety of sports, speedy internet, beautiful (but difficult!) language, amazing friends… but most of all, I will miss the bountiful lessons of life I’ve had from the whole time I was there. From the many hardships we had encountered, the lack of comfort and familiarity, to the little routines and activities that have become a part of what I was and am today, I treasure them all, and am most thankful for them.

Our weekly usrah sessions have given me better understanding of things that I thought I had understood well, the strength to carry on the message, and lifelong beloved sisters whom I know will always be there with me.

Our maghrib, isha’ and subuh prayers in jamaah (and all five during holidays) have taught me the importance of staying together, helping and reminding each other, and have let me truly feel the sweetness of companionship more than I have ever had.

The lack of halal food, the high-priced goods, and different ways of living have taught me the indelible skills of survival- to restrain, assimilate, compromise, and improvise where necessary. A trip to the grocery store never failed to lift my spirits.

The people at the dean’s office have given me the opportunity to test and build up my level of patience and perseverance.

The floor I stayed in has given me the idea of how an ideal neighbourhood should be, and how an ideal neighbour should be- people looking out for one another, lending things selflessly, offering free home-cooked meals every so often, organising get-togethers and many, many more. Things weren’t perfect, but it sure was close. ;)

Again, I thank Allah for always, always blessing me with good people around me. All the nasty ones usually just pass by fleetingly, those whom I don’t have to deal with constantly.

This is just scratching the surface on a topic I can spend hours talking about. But writing, at my present pace, would take a whole lot longer than that. I hope to get the hang of this once again and just, well… write.

Selamat berbuka puasa dan beribadah. ^_^

Volgograd, february 2011.