Dr Hidayah Amin?

Last year during the holy month of Ramadan, I had the strangest dream. I was talking to my late mum (Emak) and complaining about how my father didn't care about me but gave his attention to my brother. Emak just smiled and then my late grandma (Nenek) came towards us carrying a crying baby.

Nenek: Cik Idah, pls help. The baby is in pain.
Me: How? I don't know what to do.
Emak: You must help this poor baby... Please!

I discovered that the baby had mouth ulcer. I took a scalpel and with the skilful hands of a surgeon, I removed the ulcer and the baby was fine! Both Emak and Nenek beamed with happiness and then Nenek took me by the hand and said...

Nenek: Come, let's go....
Me: What's this place?
Emak: This was Dr Aziz's free clinic for the poor villagers. But since Dr Aziz has passed away, the clinic felt into ruins. Now it's used as den for cock gambling. It's so sad.
Nenek: Even the kids are sacred of those fierce fighting cocks which chased after them every time they passed by.
Me: Don't worry, when I become a doctor, I'll monitor my clinic with my own eyes.

I woke up in a sweat. Oh God! Was this a sign for me to go to medical school and become a doctor? I decided to use the remaining money in my Wachovia account and make that tedious applications to Harvard and Yale again (last attempt).

Still no news from the schools so I suppose it's yet another rejection. Emak & Nenek, pls don't be disappointed. I've really tried my best (Kaplan classes in NYC, strong recommendation letters from academics and medical practitioners, my volunteer work at St Luke's Hospital in Bethlehem etc). It's more painful for me as this has been my childhood dream. We can plan but ultimately, it's God who decides. I guess, I'll be heading for Cambridge instead...