Three

It has been three years since my PoPo died. Everyone in my extended family had a dinner and karaoke together the night before the anniversary of her passing. Again, I was not in attendance. Neither was my brother. Funny how quickly time passes. Funny how death can bring everyone together. Instead of crying, this time all of them were eating and singing gaily. At least we are all moving on.

'Rebuilding the World' by Paulo Coelho

A father was trying to read the newspaper, but his little son kept pestering him. Finally the father grew tired of this and tearing a page from the newspaper - one that bore the map of the world - he cut it into several pieces and handed him to his son. 

'Right, now you've got something to do. I've given you a map of the world and I want to see if you can put it back together correctly.'

He resumed reading, knowing that the task would keep the child occupied for the rest of the day. However, a quarter of an hour later, the boy returned with the map.

'Has you mother been teaching you geography?' asked his father in astonishment.

'I don't even know what that is,' replied the boy. 'But there was a photo of a man on the other side of the page, so I put the man back together and found I'd put the world back together too.' 

Yes! Finally, I have ordered Spyair's latest album. It is scheduled for release in mid-September - which coincides with the end of my 6-week community pharmacy placement. 

I cannot wait for the placement to be over. I cannot wait for the album to arrive safely in my hands. 

It is definitely something to look forward to. And I can consider this as a reward of sorts to motivate me to study harder... I think?

Amid the glitter of your medals, sweat and tears...

... there is hope for our country.

Thank you to all Malaysian sportsmen and sportswomen who competed in the London Olympics. Special mention to Lee Chong Wei and Pandelela Rinong, who contributed a silver and a bronze respectively. I felt a surge of pride when I read of their wins. I never knew how much Malaysians can unite across colour, creed and gender until that night when I saw my Facebook news feed flooded with minute-by-minute commentary on the badminton game.

I now have a renewed sense of pride in our country and our people. And I am looking forward to the next Olympics already.

"Why didn't you find a job in a pharmacy?"

That is the my second most-hated question from people I barely know. The first being: "Why do you want to go back to Malaysia?"

For someone who always live her life under the radar, I find myself suddenly under scrutiny. As if my life is any of their business. It is my life, my choice and I should be allowed to wreck my life if I wanted to.

And still, despite all my quiet defiance, I never could verbalize my thoughts. I am cowed, silent in front of these people whom I know have good intentions despite their nosy demeanor. I always feel disheartened whenever I see their eyes go wide and mouths go a huge 'O'. As they ask the question I hate, I glimpse a bit of displeasure or disappointment (maybe a mixture of both) beneath their masked face. Oh you people cannot fool me...

Now, surrounded by a mess of laundry, half-opened books and notes from years past, I realize the gravity of the situation I am in. Simply put, I am in deep shit. Yes, I now regret not having a part-time job at a pharmacy. Despite being a semester away from graduating, I don't know things that I am supposed to know.

Regrets? I always have them. Contradiction? I am the living definition of that word. But at least I am trying to do my best (I think). Rather than running away from placements that involve patient contact, I choose to do them. Because I know that they are important. Because I know that running away from fear is not a solution.