Leaving...on a jet plane...

Feel as if it was yesterday that I wrote (I think I did) an entry about leaving this wonderful place..

Sad. Yes.

Happy. Erm...

Excited. Erm...

Worried. Definitely.

Overwhelmed. A must.

When I flew off to Heathrow last year on Sept 12th, I've set an intention. My journey to the UK was not only to study Medicine. But to trace the steps of my parents. My beloved Ayah n Ibu. Ibu used to tell (though not much) about how much she learned whilst studying (and after getting married!). Learned not only the pure science which after researches and discoveries, brings us closer to Allah but the social science as well. Wondering how Ayah can do well in his studies (and helped another fellow scoring an A for his project) meanwhile going here an there every week, just to gain he thought was the best investment for the future.

I want to feel what they felt. I want to know what they knew. I want to do what they did. Little that I know, with all that, I must carry a responsibility. A responsibility that I thought it was easy. One that I thought I could do it. So naive was I.

-to be continued...-

When the responsibility came, I was scared. I was flabergasted. Truth is, I wanted a way out. But there's only two way out. One, death. Second, death as well. But the first one, dying