June 25, 2008, Wednesday, what an auspicious day it was… Sri Lanka had beaten the crap out of Bangladesh by setting a target of 358 runs, Germany had beaten Turkey in the Euro 2008 semi-finals by 3-2 and India had beaten Hong Kong by a good 256 runs in the Asia Cup. While all this was going on around me, I was sitting in that sofa chair with my laptop comfortably nestled in my lap watching Koffee with Karan with total ease and lack of concern, or was I really? Since right after graduation, friends, family friends, and relatives have been bombarding me with questions about where I am going to go for further studies and I give them all the same two three answers that I have prepared and memorized for each of them…Answer A, “I’ll be going to Pakistan for medicine. I’m still not sure which college, but I will start applying all over once I get there. Medical admissions start late in the fall, so I’m pretty inactive at the moment”— this is for those who I don’t want to give my detailed career map to, such as competitors and nosy elders, who think their children are a lot better than me and don’t refrain from rubbing it in my face. Answer B, “I applied to Gulf Medical College, I cleared the initial stages, but I’m not going there anymore. I applied to AKU and Shifa College of Medicine in Pakistan and I’m waiting for further procession of my applications.” This answer is for those who I need to impress with my by utmost talent and skill. You see, I’m very image conscience. So today, like any other day I woke up late in the afternoon, did nothing productive, sat on the couch until the padding of the cushions beneath me went flat, refreshed my facebook homepage after every five minutes in hopes that people would write on my wall, comment on how nice I looked in my pictures or at least comment on any one of my notes, and of course day dreamt like no other. When one wakes up when half the day is gone, one just loses track of time and it whizzes by. After about a good six-month hiatus the Chaudhry family finally decided that it was time to tell our fellow friends that we were very much alive and would want to invite them to a dinner, which happens to be tomorrow, June 26, 2008. I can picture my mother, an emergency physician by profession, flustering over how her crockery is so out-dated, how we never help her around with chores, how my dad camps in our T.V lounge in front of the plasma screen, how my brother goes into hibernation and how I being an eighteen year old still fail to learn my fundamental responsibilities as a family member and daughter. So taking my mother’s lack of hope in me as an insult, I decided to take charge of the humungous grocery shopping expedition that was due before the preparation of the dinner for the following evening. I happily got ready in ten minutes and prodded out my door to accompany my dad to the grocery store. I being a person very stingy about change didn’t quite appreciate the fact that my dad had chosen to shop at a store where I wasn’t very used to going, but I just sighed and busied myself in hunting the things required. The small departmental store was bustling with Asians- Indians, Pakistanis, Filipinos, Indonesians, and so on, it was quite a sight. I steered the jerky trolley through the narrow aisles showcasing the Pakistani basmati rice, Iranian saffrons, Indian tamarinds, and an array of garam masalas, looking for some “Biryani Masala” my mom needed. My eyes were exhibiting a typical case of nystagmus as I moved my gaze up and down the high shelf looking for that specific brand, my eye muscles ached and my occulomotor nerve was probably cussing at my sensory cortex. In spite of this, I failed to find the hidden treasure I was looking for, and so I moved on. I circled the whole store almost thrice, trying to fill my cart up with the much-needed stuff, to the point that I started getting those nasty looks by those around me. Nevertheless, I decided to stay indifferent to it. After a very tiring and repetitive trial and brawl session, I made my way to the counter and tried to still gaze around for “THE” masala I needed, but then I just gave up. I came home, stacked everything in the fridge in such disarray, violating every single rule my dear mother had set up for “arranging” food items in the fridge—“The bread goes in here. The vegetables and fruits go in the bottom compartments. The beverages and drinks go in the door pockets…” As soon as I finished stashing a big bottle of apple juice into one of the wrong compartments in the fridge, I made my way to the lounge to the coffee table, where I just wanted to relax and congratulate myself over bravely handling the ultimate grocery experience. However, a bundle of latest mail distracted me from my initial intentions. I sifted through the bills, bank correspondence, and pamphlets to finally come face-to-face with an opened enveloped with Aga Khan University’s official seal on it. I’m usually very particular about being the first one to touch my mail, but my anxiety and curiosity didn’t allow me to ponder over who had sliced open the letter before me. I quickly pulled out the white piece of letter paper with “Miss. Sidra Chaudhry” written at the very top. A quick read through the letter made me sigh and I smiled. It said:
“…...Upon review of your application, University records showed that your SAT 1 scores did not conform to the University’s eligibility requirement; therefore your application will not receive any further consideration for the October 2008 session. We thank you for entering competition for admission to Aga Khan University Medical College. We hope that this setback will not dissuade you from your interest in medicine but your will use this as a learning experience in your future endeavors.”
Why I smiled you ask? I smiled for several reasons. I smiled because I knew a long time back that it would be tough for me to get into AKU, I’m optimistic yet realistic. I smiled because I knew that when one door closes, another opens. And finally I smiled because of this: “We hope that this setback will not dissuade you from your interest in medicine but your will use this as a learning experience in your future endeavors.” Firstly, because they don’t know jack about my conviction for medicine as a profession or more aptly a lifestyle; the way biryani masala spices up biryani, medicine’s the spice to my life and secondly, people who were a tidbit of narrow-sighted when it came to spelling were dissing me on my SAT scores. They think they could stop me in my tracks eh? How wrong they were about me.
Once my momentous confrontation with the “unacceptance” letter was over, I began to ponder over why my parents had chosen to hide this letter from me. Did they really think I was that weak that I couldn’t handle the truth? Did they want to shield me from the taste of failure? Did they think I could or would succumb to failure? I guess it would just be safe to say that they were being parents.
You know what bothered me a lot? What drove me all this time? A constant fear of failure. It was a very conscience and self-inflicted limitation I had imposed on myself that no matter what I do, I had to succeed. I didn’t want to allow myself to fail. I vividly remember the dates February 18, 2007 and October 25, 2007, when I received my SAT 1 and SAT Chemistry scores respectively; both were lower than the scores required by AKU. My marginally low scores on the SAT 1 didn’t tick me off as much as my low SAT Chemistry scores did. I cried and cried and cried for hours on October 25, 2007, Thursday, a weekend that had just gone sour. I remember hysterically yelling at my mom over the phone, while she was in Pakistan, accusing her of not praying enough for me. I just wasn’t ready to believe that College Board had stumped me over one of the very first balls of the innings. I went into depression, a word that I had always disassociated myself with. It took me a good month or two to shed off the coat of misery I had decided to wear and go on to do the SAT twice more, with higher scores, but still not up to the mark of AKU. I had dreamt and prayed about getting into AKU. I had imagined myself in AKU all the time. My prayers had begun with “Oh Allah, do whatever’s in my best interest. Let me get into AKU! Oh please God!” But as they say, Man proposes and God disposes.
Since bygones are bygones, I’m going to come back to June 25, 2008. So here I am sitting, typing and shedding a random tear or two, trying to put my kaleidoscopic mind on paper. Before you jump to any conclusion, I’m not at all exhausting my lacrimal glands overtime over the “unacceptance” letter. Over-whelmed is the keyword. I’m over-whelmed by the speed with which times have flown in front of my very eyes. I’m enthralled by how simple things can seem and how complex they are actually, deep down inside. I’m awestruck by the lessons nature teaches and how it teaches them to us. I’ve just been bowled over by the Greatness of the Al-Mighty. I’m not afraid to call this letter a rejection or a failure; I admit I was not good enough and therefore wasn’t given the chance, but ironically, I suddenly feel so privileged and blessed. The feeling’s so beyond words that I’d probably run out of space and time to explain just how much lighter I feel. As I look at the various choices I have around me, I am forced to thank Allah for the numerous blessings He has showered upon me. Upon close inspection, I discovered that I have the grades, the finance and the will to make my way forward, all due to God’s grace and mercy. As I had said earlier, “when one door closes, another opens” and I will just have to wait for one with the hope that I don’t become blind to an open door.
As I sit here and type, I don’t want to sound as if I’m gloating over my rejection, but I’m celebrating the essence of being called a potential competitor. I will always keep the letter dear and near to me, since it has been a major factor in grounding me to earth and it has instilled in me a new hope and a new desire to prove all the negativities wrong. Insh’Allah, there will come a day soon, when I get into a great medical college and enroll in it as a diligent M.B.B.S student. The day that happens, Insh’Allah, I will feel that I have found the “biryani masala” that I have always looked for, to spice up my life.
“…...Upon review of your application, University records showed that your SAT 1 scores did not conform to the University’s eligibility requirement; therefore your application will not receive any further consideration for the October 2008 session. We thank you for entering competition for admission to Aga Khan University Medical College. We hope that this setback will not dissuade you from your interest in medicine but your will use this as a learning experience in your future endeavors.”
Why I smiled you ask? I smiled for several reasons. I smiled because I knew a long time back that it would be tough for me to get into AKU, I’m optimistic yet realistic. I smiled because I knew that when one door closes, another opens. And finally I smiled because of this: “We hope that this setback will not dissuade you from your interest in medicine but your will use this as a learning experience in your future endeavors.” Firstly, because they don’t know jack about my conviction for medicine as a profession or more aptly a lifestyle; the way biryani masala spices up biryani, medicine’s the spice to my life and secondly, people who were a tidbit of narrow-sighted when it came to spelling were dissing me on my SAT scores. They think they could stop me in my tracks eh? How wrong they were about me.
Once my momentous confrontation with the “unacceptance” letter was over, I began to ponder over why my parents had chosen to hide this letter from me. Did they really think I was that weak that I couldn’t handle the truth? Did they want to shield me from the taste of failure? Did they think I could or would succumb to failure? I guess it would just be safe to say that they were being parents.
You know what bothered me a lot? What drove me all this time? A constant fear of failure. It was a very conscience and self-inflicted limitation I had imposed on myself that no matter what I do, I had to succeed. I didn’t want to allow myself to fail. I vividly remember the dates February 18, 2007 and October 25, 2007, when I received my SAT 1 and SAT Chemistry scores respectively; both were lower than the scores required by AKU. My marginally low scores on the SAT 1 didn’t tick me off as much as my low SAT Chemistry scores did. I cried and cried and cried for hours on October 25, 2007, Thursday, a weekend that had just gone sour. I remember hysterically yelling at my mom over the phone, while she was in Pakistan, accusing her of not praying enough for me. I just wasn’t ready to believe that College Board had stumped me over one of the very first balls of the innings. I went into depression, a word that I had always disassociated myself with. It took me a good month or two to shed off the coat of misery I had decided to wear and go on to do the SAT twice more, with higher scores, but still not up to the mark of AKU. I had dreamt and prayed about getting into AKU. I had imagined myself in AKU all the time. My prayers had begun with “Oh Allah, do whatever’s in my best interest. Let me get into AKU! Oh please God!” But as they say, Man proposes and God disposes.
Since bygones are bygones, I’m going to come back to June 25, 2008. So here I am sitting, typing and shedding a random tear or two, trying to put my kaleidoscopic mind on paper. Before you jump to any conclusion, I’m not at all exhausting my lacrimal glands overtime over the “unacceptance” letter. Over-whelmed is the keyword. I’m over-whelmed by the speed with which times have flown in front of my very eyes. I’m enthralled by how simple things can seem and how complex they are actually, deep down inside. I’m awestruck by the lessons nature teaches and how it teaches them to us. I’ve just been bowled over by the Greatness of the Al-Mighty. I’m not afraid to call this letter a rejection or a failure; I admit I was not good enough and therefore wasn’t given the chance, but ironically, I suddenly feel so privileged and blessed. The feeling’s so beyond words that I’d probably run out of space and time to explain just how much lighter I feel. As I look at the various choices I have around me, I am forced to thank Allah for the numerous blessings He has showered upon me. Upon close inspection, I discovered that I have the grades, the finance and the will to make my way forward, all due to God’s grace and mercy. As I had said earlier, “when one door closes, another opens” and I will just have to wait for one with the hope that I don’t become blind to an open door.
As I sit here and type, I don’t want to sound as if I’m gloating over my rejection, but I’m celebrating the essence of being called a potential competitor. I will always keep the letter dear and near to me, since it has been a major factor in grounding me to earth and it has instilled in me a new hope and a new desire to prove all the negativities wrong. Insh’Allah, there will come a day soon, when I get into a great medical college and enroll in it as a diligent M.B.B.S student. The day that happens, Insh’Allah, I will feel that I have found the “biryani masala” that I have always looked for, to spice up my life.
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