I need to know there's more to life than this.
I need to see the silver lining.
I need to reach my own happy ending.

Ya mu3een

We are spending almost every waking moment revising, asking each other questions, counselling, breaking bad news, whatever it takes to get that piece of information to consolidate. From the moment we open our eyes, till the moment we fall asleep, we bombard each other with questions, in the hopes that maybe we will be asked this question, or somehow it will miraculously be in the exam.

Why doees it seem that no matter how much we study, we still seem lost. There's so much to study and so little time.

We sit huddled together over piles of papers, revision notes and paper cups. I never was into group studying, but extreme times need extreme measures. Being left alone victims to our wandering minds is not something we can afford now. Trying to cram 6 years worth in 4 weeks. The sight of my dry skin, my unsightly cuticles, and my prematurely greying falling hairs manages to distract me. Is this what a 20 something girl looks like? We have a mini pity-party as I share my thoughts, but we manage to get back on track. Kudos to self-discipline.

We laugh hystericaly over some lame comment, snorting and gasping for air as we do so. Is it all that caffeine, or is it just our way of coping with stress. Maybe we are scared if we don't laugh, we will end up crying, or being crippled with fear.

I manage to steal a few minutes before I fall asleep to read some blogs, as weird as this is, I'd rather unwind with some reading, then adding half an hour to my troubled skimpy sleep.

Allahum la sahl illa ma ja3altahu sahlan, w anta taj3al al7azan itha shi2ta sahla.

Enshalla kilna ninja7, la faqdeen w la mafqoodeen.

Count Down

I'm almost there, at the end of the line. The moment I have been working for for all those years. All seven years, all eighty exams, all 1120 commuting hours, all early mornings, all sleepless nights, all coffee cups, all 8 to 9s were all means to this day.
I am scared but thrilled. I am hesitant yet hopeful.
I haven't had a peaceful night in a month now, every time I close my eyes I'm at a station, under the scrutiny of a panel of examiners.
Four more exams. The last mile. And then, a life time of learning.

Wit

Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou are not so;
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
Thou'art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy'or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.

John Donne (1572 - 1631)