Done.

Prologue: Deepest gratitude and apologies for those who supported, large or little, from supervisor to family and friends for tolerating me, an indignant, unrepentant tits and pain in the arse.

Period of journey: 4 August 2010 to 7 October 2015.

Done. Done for. Done in. Done well. Well done. Done deal. Done it. Done.

This is it, ladies & gentlemen.

Five years worth from the prime of my youth condensed into 334 pages worth of tawdry Malay writing, red hardcover bound with gold imprints on the cover and the spine. While everybody else of my peers made a stable career enjoying all the trappings of being rat-racing yuppies, I foolhardily sequestered self within the secluded confine of campus, languishing, toiling, persisting on the decision I made on a whim five years ago. While most of my comrade made a sensible decision of pulling out right at the start or in the middle opting instead of a stable career, I soldiered on. When my juniors made leaps and bounds ahead of me in both career and academia, my struggle continued, vision became incredibly clouded, wondering is there even the end of the tunnel. Five years in which patience and creative tension stretched to outrageous extent of brinkmanship, barely skirting by the metaphorical guillotine of deadline as every semester passed.

Today, light finally shone through the metaphorical fog and soot, tunnel finally in sight. The five years worth of long march is finally going to be over. The long-awaited milestone arriving soon. The emotional baggage on my shoulder were lifted the moment the officer at IPSUSM uttered the word: "Itu saja, tunggu surat konvo ya.".

Five soul-sapping years worth of solitude, shame, anguish and guilt. The awkward conversations with family members during Chinese New Year. The piercing questions when hanging out with friends. The prolonged silence and evasive non-answers I spluttered whenever the topic of my current limbo bubbles up. That pointless trip to Medical campus in Kelantan due to red tape. The sense of defeat as I typed the training postponement letter to JPA to defer my 10 months training with PTD while facing the music from my family and friends for the stupidity of delaying own pathway to a secure career. The constantly nagging fear in my psyche of not doing and finishing my deeds.The lingering sense of failure of not being self-sufficient, let alone be a breadwinner to own family. A failed man, drowned by the ceaseless wave of changes. The negativity. The despair.

All these are going to end, finally, hopefully.

I am the sole survivor of my own bygone generation.

All that's left is not euphoria and enthusiasm but of relief and vague sense of emptiness. I am no longer the wide-eyed, quietly optimistic 22 years old keen of learning and discovery but a decrepit, cynical and obese 27 years old beaten husk of a man, bleak and dire, constantly fearful in shuddering mess of lingering doom.

What's the next step for me? Where should I be heading to now?

Oh well, at least I can take comfort at the fact I can move on now. From one end, to new beginning. Count down to November's curtain call begins.

Postscript: Here's a perennial dilemma: What can I do with an Arts/Linguistics degree? Speaking of which, I really hope JPA remembers me and the rest of the lot who postponed the PTD training.