Kicked out of Uni Twice..What?
I didn’t get kicked out because I lacked the brain cells, in so many ways some of my sentiments is fond to say this because most of my class mates are really how you’d call, genius par excellence…with countless achievements in academic ..and co curricular activities …, but I do believe that my heart was not 100% in it.
Yeah, the journey made me feel a bit ( okay, more than a wee bit) kind of stupid, unworthy and a fraud, but at the same time, I feel a roaring spirit inside of me, wanted to prove ’em wrong, prove the negative notions inside of me, wrong.
I get it, because of malas, not enough preparation, one can’t expect to excell in the top university in the country, for example. You cannot just sail through. One expect often left out of the equation, by yours truly thank you, is, one can’t like ‘make it’ alone in uni. You have to have cliques. Cliques that matter. I am not talking just about the racial divide that were talked ominuosly at length by many students who might have felt a bit unfairly justified, but your image, your brand, speaks volume.
I was late to class.
I miss classes, like a lot.
I tried to attend the head of department’s classes, because I think he’s cool, nice and all that, but even in his classes, I was not doing it right. I got that ‘ Nabil, your body is here but your mind is elsewhere’ comment by the professor. Talk about public shaming. But I didn’t feel bad, I just kinda felt …understood.
But I seemed to lost the grasp on how to remedy it.
Hearing that, looking at my lack luster attitude, I agree, maybe even I wouldn’t really friend me.
But, maybe I would. Because I would friend someone for their heart and their goodness. But, let’s be honest, rather than just me, blowing up my own trumpet, who the hecks know if I kinda, mighta, have a wonderful personality ..love?
I know I’m no messiah. I am fighting my own demons and maybe that was what people see too. I remember one fly away comment from a fellow hostel member saying that I mighta look like someone who have lots of problems. Run!
But, even then, I was no Tony Robbins convert, change my life around and be positive. It’s not that I was drifting either.
I was fighting. I was trying. Hard?
I remember a senior lecturer, who later went back into the industry to become someone successful in the industry, who told me ‘ Nabil, you’re smart, you just have to go around the system’. He understood that I was having a rough time in uni.
I didn’t feel I belong.
The age gap. The lack of brain cells, amongst other things.
The cliques, the status. The car. The handsomeness. The list goes on and on.
But most time, I did rock on during my terms in uni. And it was long. From 17 years old, I finally gotten my degree at 27 years young.
That, and being kicked out of two uni before that. Ended up graduating from one of the uni that I got kicked.
What was the recipe?
I can tell you that in my short life, during moments of bliss, people call it ‘being in the zone’ thing, I recalled being very prodigious and industrious with results to boot. In my work, that is.
Then, how come I couldn’t muster it during those uni days? There are some courses, I aced, much to my surprise, like Economics and Artificial Intelligence. I kinda sailed through with those two ..I dunnow how..
Then, and even now, I know that those super bright students, didn’t just aced it, at least the majority of them, they sloughed it off. They really worked their asses off to get theor merits.
And me, I just don’t know how. I was in sort of camatose state. Lack of myelin connections, anyone?
I know I should put in more hours, I could, I mean How hard must it be, right? But I didn’t make it happen. I couldn’t grasped it in me, to hang on, and do it.
How do you describe someone, some sort of helpless, a bit pathetic, you think?
But, in all those times, I didn’t gave up hope. I was struggling. This mental fog and burden, was with me and I ..had to live with it.
I prayed. I try to do more good. I read to the blind students. Do this, do that.
You know, try to find my way. My self. What the f@&£ing meaning is this all about?
I remember saying, does this all matter anymore? Who are we sh@&£ing anyway?
Was I angry?
I went to the counsellors, asking for a psychological reprieve. Ended up, they praised me for being courageous, saying, many would have folded, crumpled in my place.
Solace in that? Baffled more so.
I wished I had more friends. I wished my so called best of friends didn’t betray me. I wished people were not so cliquey and discriminative. I wished..
.. I didn’t felt sorry for being true to myself even if hell broke loose.
I didn’t. Take it or leave it.
I was happy. I smiled, a lot.
I had lots, lots of friends, truthfully.
And I was also, lonely.
It was during this time that I made a concrete resolution that no amount of holidaying in exotic and touristy places will make me happy, if I am not happy, on the inside, myself.
I searched, am I not happy? What is happy?
Why do I always feel happy, but others feel that I am lacking and deemed not happy, enough for them?
I searched for truth. I searched for the meaning of life. My existence, and what can I do in this life.
That fired me up. That lighted me up. That propelled me.
You can find me in the main library. Browsing every rack there is, looking for gems. There were many. It felt like heaven. More than just an escape, I felt, I found a secret headquarter.
How come, for someone who likes to read, books, and the idea of knowledge or info to better one’s prospects in life, felt so addled up in his classes, this flunking spectacularly in his exams? You tell me.
I think I made a quiet, but firm resolution in those days,that I would rather learn the know hows of the real world and how to survive, rather than just a piece of paper. I wanted it all …perhaps.
I knew, I read about it. The world, out there.
Looking back, would I have folded if I knew that I would end up all alone most of the time? That it was arduous and unforgiving?
Maybe I knew it will not matter to me even then. What matters is, I go after the Big goal.
I got a big surprise after reading a sunday paper that my dad, I had to more than twice blink to verify I wasn’t dreaming, had gotten himself jailed up under ISA. Nobody told me. Left in the dark. For my own good, seems to be their excuse.
My real mom was breaking up with her long romanced jerk of a husband. He ran away with not just money, almost her pride. He left her and her two kids penniless, cold and starving. She wanted to stay abroad, too embarassed to come back. Husband, marriage, Phd,gone. She tried to get political asylum. I guess it was payback time, she, in her happy time, mistreated her own relative, and treated that sweet girl, like a common slave and orang gaji, with not much dignity.
My aunt, that arrogant how did it turn out that way aunt, who used to be sweet, married a narcisstic jerk, swindled many a close friends by the truck loads, her being an accomplished lawyer and all, fled the country.
Me, I thought I was unfairly treated, not getting to do a course that I would have enjoyed more. I mean, I don’t know, even now, if there ever was …that one course that could have made me blissed. I try to stop complaining.
Criminals. Bad peoples. How did it even came to this? I dunnow. I cannot answer for them, it was their bad choices.
I never waver in seeing if the bad things are bad as what it is, even it was them, who did it.
That, and the fact that they mistreated me, in big or small ways…narcisstic, much?
Nobody is perfect, I know.
I wanted to be me, you know. Without all the bad influences. I define me.
That, it seems, was not a multiple choice answer question. Life’s answers, some, if not most, is hard.
But I like it. I think it was worth my time. Though, I concur, I did get a bit waylaid by it, side tracked, when one comprehends that ..I should have been a better student.
But one, not much AIs any more, that continues to pull me, are topics about management, talent and …love
What was the most valuable lesson I got from uni?
…that I wasn’t hopeless.
Pic credit to RuneGuneriussen, ThisisColassal.com