Some people never stick to their words.

One day, you spend enjoyable and unforgettable moments with them, even fall for them, and they happen to feel the same way to you too, even promise to never let you go.

The next day, you leave town and they shed tears, even wrote a sweet letter, again, full of promises.

The following week, everything still seems okay. They're still in contact with you, still keeping their words.

The next two months, they're hardly there to spare their time with you, even when they aren't so busy. You just become unworthy.

Yes, that is life with it's bullshit. I'm so tired.



This might turn out to sound like I'm dying. But then, who knows anything about death besides Allah, anyways? The angel of death might just pick me up at any moment without me having to face any symptoms of any disease. So here it goes.

To Baba and Mama.

First of all, with full sincerity and frankness, I'm so lucky to have you both as my parents. Not because I've never experienced having any other parent, I don't need to live with another parent to do comparison. Because I'm deeply sure that no other parents will take care of me the way you did and still do. You are the best parents in the whole universe, and I'm a very blessed child for that.

In other families, people usually express their love to their family with physical affection. Like hugs and kisses. I used to kiss my mom when I was small until I'm in junior high. I stopped kissing her. Why? Not because I don't love her anymore, but somehow it's cause I felt I wasn't good enough, that I could express better than just a smooch on her cheek. I expressed it with helping her in the kitchen, cleaning the house, taking care of my siblings and many other housework to minimize her burden. I also treated Mom as my best friend, I shared stories and so did she. She still does till now. And I know that she always looks forward to our girly conversations. And so do I. Both my Mom and I are nocturnal. Whenever I couldn't sleep in my darkest nights and walked out of my room heading to the living room, I'd see her on the sofa reading interior magazines, and we'd just talk and talk till one of us felt drowsy already.

Ever since I was a toddler, whenever I see my Mom cry, I cry. It still happens until now. The most devastating scene for me is to see my parents cry. I hardly saw my dad shed a tear, not because he was heartless, but because he picked to act like a true family leader, to always look strong in front of his family. To me, my dad was and is a real leader whom I'll always look upon. And I think that was why I wanted him to run for a president when I was really small. And all his reply was "Of course Baba will replace the president next year".

My dad always encouraged and still does encourage me in doing any activities that fit with hobbies. Especially if they were academic. And he knows how to motivate people, inspire them with words mixed with humor. All of my friends who have heard him give a speech have either been inspired or entertained. Or both. Even when I'm a thousand miles away from him like now, he'd still support me with wise words whenever I felt like I couldn't achieve anything. He'd reply my text in not more than five minutes. I'm someone who's easily amused. But not easily stimulated. The one person who can amuse and stimulate me at the same time is my dad.

In truth, even when I graduate university, become the best medical doctor in the world, gain the highest salary every month and send it all to them, bring them on a tour around the galaxy, those... wouldn't be enough to thank them for raising me as i am. And in truth, good parents never ask back for the money they've spent on raising you and on your education, they only want to still be part of your life, to still be treated respectfully, to be taken care of when they've become toothless and unable to walk on their foot, to still be loved in the middle of your hectic life that is filled with work schedules and your new built family needs.

In my case, when my mom will be in her eighties, she'll probably still want to read interior magazine and hopes for me to join her in a girl talk conversation in the living room at late night. And for now, I can only pray to Allah, to not get so completely devoted to my future career and other worldly events and enjoyments, so not to miss my main duty of returning my parents' good and honorable deeds and spend a fraction of my time with them. All that I'm going to achieve in near or far future, are my expressions of gratitude towards my parents.

To Baba and Mama, I love you.



After a long struggle and hopeless nights, thanks to Allah, I've finally passed the selection test of Universitas Indonesia in medicine!

Yes, after five years approximately Imma play with people's internal organs and save lives.

It's been such a tough month. I was so devastated when I took the first Simak Test and didn't pass the selection to be a medical student. I've given in to Civil Engineering and I've even started participating in freshmen activities (the period before starting college where you're bawled at, blamed at, insulted and humiliated by seniors). They claim this period as 'adaptation'. Well, I owe this 'adaptation' part and my new engineering friends a lot really because they've made me fall for Universitas Indonesia and frankly, I would have settled comfortably in engineering even if I hadn't passed the selection in medicine. Even before the announcement of the selection appeared, I always smiled proudly whenever I passed the pillar that spelled Universitas Indonesia. To be a part of it, is certainly a personal pride.

But as always, Allah Almighty has given me blessings a lot more than I deserve. Alhamdulillah.

Not long after that, one of my really kindest friends brought me the news that there's another Simak Test referred only to students who are applying for the International Program in Universitas Indonesia, and without hesitation, I applied for it and took the Test. It's still crystal clear in my memory, that when I took the test, I was barely conscious. The test was extremely difficult and I was sleep deprived, so during the test I sort of fell a sleep for seconds and woke up and drifted out again and so on. Finally when the supervisor announced that the time was up and to put all our 2B pencils down (mine was already on the floor), I handed in the paper with complete bleakness, bearing in mind that there was no way I was going to pass this test and that I was already a slave to Civil Engineering.

And a week after that, the miracle final announcement showed up with my name on the list. Alhamdulillah.

I'm also a bit sad because I've already gotten close to colleagues from engineering. I've gotten used to being around them doing a bundle of tasks ordered by the seniors. If I wasn't accepted in medicine, I would've been the only female in the Civil Engineering Class of 2011 International Program. And to me, it could've been a great adventure. Haha.

In fact I'm missing them already since I no longer participate in the 'adaptation' doings.

By the way, I'm currently staying at the university dormitory. It's quiet challenging living so independently like this. And the two toughest problems to me are time management and money saving. I've become such a crazy shopaholic woman since I've arrived in Jakarta.

I basically get so excited whenever I see a discount rate. And you know how it comes out, you just buy everything that's on discount and you eventually reach a really high price. But to me it's totally worth it! And it just occurred to me that my parents back in Cairo are working their sweat out hard to pay for my education, not for my Polos. So I'm really trying to gain self-control here.

They say that waking up is the hardest part. Here I say it literally. Really, I think I have waking up problems because apparently all types of alarm clocks don't work for me. I bet a few of those people whom I've asked to 'ring me till I reject' have regretted to have been friends with me. Hahahahah.

So help me God. Have a healthy life, people.