Fast forward to October 2017. At this point of life, I have
hiked 13 mountain peaks, the highest being Mount Kerinci at 3805 meters above
sea level, the highest volcano in Southeast Asia, located on the Sumatera
island. I was still haunted by the same thing, every time on all those
mountains that nagging voice stays with me – asking me when will I finish my
studies.
It was a funny feeling to drive through UPM every other day
to work, while looking out for my (ex)-roommate’s motorcycle in his faculty’s
parking lot, sniggering when I realized that this is stupid. I hadn’t moved on
from this, while at the same time trying to figure out how to finish my
unsettled business.
3 years has passed, and it was 3 convocations that I had
missed. 2015 was when I thought I would finish off, 2016’s convocation was when
my two other friends graduated, and 2017 was when I hoped I actually will
graduate. But that day when I would touch the thesis again courageously never
came.
My supervisor was already back in the faculty after her
9-month sabbatical leave. But I couldn’t find the right time to meet her again,
to reconcile whatever left of our undefined partnership.
I took a time every semester to check my student status,
just to convince myself that it’s still okay, that I still have time to do the
correction. But time is running out, I couldn’t forever be a student. That
fateful day finally came after the end of the 12th semester, a month
after I conquered the Kerinci peak. It was a few days before GEMA’s Ledang
trip. On that day, I checked my student status just like I did every other
semester. Only now instead of thesis submitted, the status was replaced by
another unfamiliar 3 words: “Terminated (Gagal Berhenti)”. I was shaken to the
core.
Oh my God. This can’t be happening. I felt a rush of
emotions, a cocktail mix of despair, fear, anguish, regret, self-loathe all at
the same time. I was terminated from the university, for God’s sake. Gagal
berhenti was never an entry in my dictionary. One of the brightest students is
now a failure – how disappointing is that.
I immediately made a phone call to the School of Graduate
Studies, albeit, or perhaps because of fear. The first person who answered the
call passed me to another officer, then to another one. I told them my status
was terminated on the system, they told me it couldn’t be.
“Have you had your viva?”
“Yes.”
“When was it?”
“16th April 2015.”
“That was a long time ago.”
My heart sank. It was more than 2 years ago, for crying out
loud.
“There’s only one thing you could do. You will have to request
for review against termination. But the review meeting was held just last
week.” I felt like I was riding a rollercoaster of emotions. There was good
news, and there was also bad news in the same breath.
“The next meeting would be on January or February next year,
I couldn’t tell for sure. But even if you appeal, the committee might not grant
your application.”
“What is the procedure for the review against termination?”
“You have to write a letter, through your supervisor. Send
it to SGS. Then you’ll have to wait until the meeting.”
I thanked her and hung up. Maybe this is the answer, this is
the end. I would not proceed past this line, I thought to myself. I received
the news with a heavy heart. I don’t have the face to meet my supervisor, to
set foot on the faculty again. To face my examination chairman and committee
members is beyond possibility. Master of Science title, has now slipped from my
hands.
I took it to twitter, thinking that welp, nobody would
notice this one tweet. So I tweeted how this is sucking the very life out of
me. That I had failed everyone, and I’m sorry.
Then something happened.
A few of my close friends PMed me, asking me if there’s
something wrong. It was quite a shock for me, since I always tweeted depressing
thoughts I thought nobody would care this time, but they noticed that this one
tweet is a real cry for help.
Some of them I could not bring my heart to tell the truth.
It was surprisingly Naja that helped me to set this
straight. Naja confronted me with his usual IDGAF demeanor, imploring me to tap
into the IDGAF part of myself. I told him everything that I’ve kept to myself
these past 2 years; how the whole viva thing made me feel, how I felt so
terrible of myself for not being able to produce a satisfactory work, how I’ve
lost my own way.
I told Naja that the only thing that could save me is a
letter that needs to be endorsed by my supervisor, but I think I won’t do that
because even that won’t promise anything. My termination still needs to be
reviewed in a meeting, and the nearest meeting is next year. And even if I miraculously
managed to appeal my termination, I still need to meet my examination committee
members to sign off my papers. Judging from how they reviewed my thesis, I don’t
think I could survive another round of evaluation. I’ve lost this war.
Naja first was sympathetic and he eased me into accepting
defeat, but after I told him I might’ve to pay back my sponsor (mybrain15) if I
couldn’t complete my studies, Naja went to savage mode. Being a PTPTN-sponsored
student himself, Naja knows very well the curse of student’s loan.
Naja urged me to contact my supervisor, right there and
then. I was like “hell no!” but Naja was like “You have nothing to lose now. You
are already terminated, what possibly could be worse?”
I searched for my supervisor’s name on WhatsApp. Without realizing
it, my eyes began to well. The frustration, the hopes that she had for me, my avoiding
her for these past few years had me bottling up so many emotions inside, and
now the emotions are reaching the boiling point.
I sent the first message. A simple “Salam Dr.”
Then a single tick. Double tick. Blue tick.
“Waalaikummussalam.”
“Dr sihat?” it was the two most meaningful words, a phrase that
cut deep into a river of meanings – of how I wished her well, of wanting to ask
how she was feeling about me while I was away?
“Ye alhamdulillah.”
“Dr busy?”
“Kenapa? Nak hantar kad kawen ke?” I couldn’t help myself
from laughing. This is the supervisor that I knew, even though years have
passed, her sense of humour is still intact.
From then, the conversation flows into the uncharted
territory of my admission of guilt. I was tearing up, her forgiveness touched
me. I told her about the viva, because I never got the chance to tell her
exactly how it made me feel. We discussed the viva strictly in professional
terms 2 years back, but we didn’t delve into details the excruciating comments that
the committee had for my work.
Her replies were of the motherly type. “I totally
understand, but I could only imagine what you’ve been through. It was only you
who experienced it all.”
“Thanks Dr. Thanks for believing in me.” I was crying
buckets at this moment.
But one concern remained undressed “But how about the
examination committee? I don’t have the courage to face them again.”
“I’m sure they’re ok now. They know you’re never giving up.”
Just like that, a new beacon of light shine unto me. I felt that it began to
flow back into the dark abyss of my heart, where I was residing with all the
negative thoughts.
“Don’t feel so down for so long.” She concluded the topic,
before she revealed that she was going to perform umrah in two weeks time.
“I will pray for your health and success.”
The conversation ended with the promise that she would write
a letter to the School of Graduate Studies, for my review against termination.
(to be continued)
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