Lately I’ve been loving hot soup. They’re so nice and pleasant to eat. Often feels like a warm blanket on a cold cold day.
Talking about soup, a type of food made from a mix of different raw pieces, that somehow blends together into a harmonious end flavor. My life too, feels like it’s churning in a big pot, heading towards an end flavor, the “just right for me” flavor.
Last few months ago, I enrolled in a translation course outside of uni. 8 classes on weekends. Only one physical class due to mco. It just so happened that the the remaining 7 classes started at around the same time as when my uni resumed classes. So I had to adapt to online classes, being at home, being in my room, facing my own raw self with all its starkness and vividness, all the while trying to not miss classes while swimming in murky water.
I like the course though. I like what I learnt. I didn’t mind the Saturday 9-5 classes. I really really wanted to do well in that course. I want to do well in the exam.
Then, the wind blew backwards, bending even the strongest hope, down.
It just so happened, again, that the exam date for this translation course was situated on a very busy week filled with exams and submissions. A stress-filled week. I had a uni subject exam right before the scheduled exam date for the translation course. The new system for uni online classes exam is, you are given 24 hours to finish the exam. On Friday evening, 3pm, the paper was given, I answered, until around 5am, Saturday. Then I couldn’t sleep. I have to answer the translation exam at 8! I was afraid I couldn’t sleep. Plus I didn’t study for the translation exam at all oh God. The exam was held at ITBM building. So that morning, without sleep, in a state I had never been in even for my uni exams, I answered three papers on the same day, despairing over the outcome because really, I actually wanted to do well in the course. It was just, tragic :D
So exam done, I waited for a few months for the result. Thinking that high chances, I would fail. I guess I have to retake the exam, I thought. I was expecting the worse, because I really didn’t prepare for the exam.
Then few days ago, the exam slip and certificate arrived in the mail, I passed! Not with flying colors, but pass “LULUS” said the cert to me. I looked at the marks for each category, oh I did quite well in most parts, except for the theory part which required revision. And oh, only 1 more mark to “KEPUJIAN”, oh. “Oh” I said, and my mind goes into a swirl. Oh, if only I studied, if only I was in a better state, if only I had more time, if only I fought my fatigue a little bit more before the exam, maybe, maybe, I could have remembered some facts, and answered better, and get that extra one mark to get “KEPUJIAN”.
Then I thought, wow,
Wow.
Wasn’t I extremely happy when I discovered I passed? Because I expected myself to fail. Wasn’t I super grateful just few minutes before I checked the marks? Wasn’t the whole situation, better than what I expected?
The ONE mark that divided a lower and higher rank, why am I so distraught over it?
This ONE mark, is a test, I thought. A subtle test from Allah, isn’t it? To see where my thoughts and emotions will sway to? Didn’t I thought I would fail, and yes, the chances of passing without studying and in a bad bad mental and physical state, isn’t it a miracle I passed? Wow.
Just ONE mark, just ONE more, this train of thought, opened doors to many many new chamber of thoughts, brought in strong tides of murky and rough water that could my brain in a momentary disaster. Close the door before the water comes. Close it quickly. Think. Hikmah. What is it. Grab onto it. Hikmah.
Yes. Allah wants to see if I grateful, if I am able to think beyond, if I am able to see the context. Why is it that we must allow numbers and ranks determined by humans to become our badge of honor? Then my mind says, “but Allah, I could have done better, if I was in a better state”, then I realize, with a gulp, that wow. Allah is teaching me that MY ability, MY potential, MY intellect, are not determined nor tied by the numbers printed on a sheet of paper that could easily crumble and fade. I know what I am able to do, I know that I am better than whatever lables, numbers or grades the world had printed out for me. Wow.
I get it Allah. I get it.
Thank you.
Alhamdulillah.
And like a hot soup that burns your toungue if eaten too hastily, but enjoyable when eaten slowly, waiting for a bit to let it cool down a bit, then swallowing it, enjoying the warm sensation that flows through your senses, life too requires the "intense period" follows by a “cool down” to attain the “perfect warmth” and the “just right flavor”. Success, redefine it. Don’t ever let this world cage you with their standardized claws. A tree with strong roots, will stand, even in the biggest hail. This too, is another story for Hikmah dalam Tawar.
A baggage of my soul. Here world, take it.
