STOP AT 3.

In most cases or I'd rather put courses, the Ph.D term is 4 years for the full-timers and around 6 years for the part-timers (Correct me if i'm wrong, part-timers). For the full-time students with scholarship, the funding usually subjects to the candidature period.

On average, the full timers would finish their thesis somewhere around 3-4.5 years. Some, were unlucky, had to finish it in 5-6 years.

We usually plan our programs on the first startes of our research. The programs include attending the research workshops, statistic classes, 'how to use EndNote' course, read 'He is not into you' book (for preparation) so on and so forth. Some, like me, went a bit far by suggesting my supervisor to participate in '1 to 1 expectation' survey. The survey was supplied by a unit called "academic skill unit" and it contained a number of questions pertaining to your expectation and your supervisor's expectation. I guess some students got their supervisor to participate, but in my case, my supervisor said "what is this..no..no..we dont have to waste our time on this".

Anyway, I noticed that not many PhD students plan to finish their thesis a year ealier than the end date. It's either they didnt tell me or they underlook the importance of planning their thesis for 3 years. By planning I mean, send in the complete first draft in the third year. Yes, with the table of contents, list of figures, references and footnote. As if you were to do the final submission.

Why is it so important to make sure you finish your first draft early ? Simple, in case of any major mistakes (like mine), you will have another 1 spare year. And in most cases, you can correct the mistakes in 6-8 months.

Another reason is, to familiarize yourself with unexpected tiny little things that can take up months to solve it. For example, checking typo. Dont rely on Mr. Words's spelling check please.

Another example is, updating your references. You can check the seniors who didnt keep & update their references systematically will tell you that they have ended up wasting 2-3 months recollecting the references.

The page margin & setup, they look 'cute & small' but they can make you pull out your hair. You change the margin in page 10 only ended up cutting your table in page 17, 23 and 45 into half!

The advantages of finish early vary. The main one is we dont have to put up with the dwindling motivation anymore (phew..at last). We dont have to think about the scholarship money that is drying in the bank account. And, well..we are doing our supervisors & the faculty the favour who think that they need new faces.

Oh yes, we too do not have to wear the tshirt that wrote "I'LL EAT YOU IF U ASK ME WHEN WILL I SUBMIT"

And, so those are some of the reasons why I advice the new students to try finish one year ealier and I refer it to a 'buffer time'. For other reasons, you can figure it out yourself.

Okay, one might think "I want to analyze many things, I dont care if it takes me up to 5 years of my Ph.D" Wohoo ! Stop, Have a Hammer time! My advice is, dont be too ambitious. You are just doing a PhD and not a research for a Noble Prize (yet). One of the purposes of doing Ph.D is to put yourself on the same level as other academicians. So, dont spend too much time on a Ph.D. And of course, after you submit your thesis, you can have all the time you want to do another research or continue what you did during your PhD.

Or..simply, get a life !

Feedback from the PHD-Dara

Dear readers,

Here I post some comments related to my previous post PHD: Problem Hantui Dara.

Rohanim wrote:

I do have several concerns in relation to thisissue. I am happily married with a great husband& in-laws who are consistently supporting me tocontinue my education + I have 4 sons. No girl.What I am seeing now is the dwindling level ofinterest among males to do formal education. Whatwent wrong? A reliable source from one of the IPTA's staffinformed me that even the Fac. of Engineering had(in the late 90's)/has (it's prob. stillhappening) to lower down their expectations onmale applicants. Otherwise, they'll be too many'qualified' female engineers as compared to themales.And we do have more 'qualified' + 'educated'females as compared to males in almost all areas.Female still needs to do better in politics,nevertheless, 'kayu pengukur' kita has to change.To adapt the changing educ. culture in oursociety.My call to those who are parents - how do weraise our sons & daughters so that they are moreprepared for their future? From issues inglobalization all the way to societal issues.Both at macro & micro level.... It's a tough job.


Sudharshan wrote:

Just sharing my experience. I did my undergrad at an IPTA in the mid 90s. Atthat time there were about 10-20% females in the class (abt 10-15 of them).One of my lecturers (who graduated from another IPTA in the 80s) informedthat during his undergrad days, there were literally only 1-2 femaleundergrads in his class. I am talking about about a civil engineeringcourse, which "usually" attracts the least no of females.When I started teaching in another IPTA in 2004, there were about 40-50 % ofthem, in a class about 100 students. Again, this is in a civil engineeringclass. I am pretty sure that the numbers are more in the E&E and ChemicalEng.I am not sure how it will be in 2020.

What say u ?

My father's daughter

Dear friends, I received an inspiring story from one of my closest friends last night. She wanted to be known as 'MIGNON'. I've known Mignon for several years and her story always reminded me that my 'suffering' was nothing compared to her great lost. The path to Ph.D is sometimes so narrow that the journey could cruelly suffocates the mind & sense. MIGNON tells us how she dealt with the black chapter in her life...

----------------------
2005
"When it's time for you to go, you should go. And when it's time for me to go, I must go too."
That's what Abah; my father, said to me when I told him that I'd won a postgrad scholarship to study in Melbourne, but I was worried about leaving him behind. Abah had only celebrated his 60th birthday in the previous month at that time, but he looked about 20 years older. There was long list of his health problems, most of them long-standing, and his health was the very thing that caused my ambivalence.

Abah said goodbye to me at KLIA sitting on a wheelchair. After I arrived in Melbourne, we'd talk on the phone once in a while, but we trade emails and SMSes often. Abah was quite internet-savvy, given his age. If his prepay mobile account ran out of credit, he'd ring one of my sisters from the home line and ask "Your handphone has credit or not?". If my sis said yes, then he'd say "Please send SMS to your sis in Melbourne, tell her I don't have any credit. When I've topped-up I'll reply".

So, naturally, around mid September, I wondered why he didn't reply to my SMS for 3 days, and neither did any of my sisters sent me an SMS on his behalf. I sent him an SMS on Monday evening, and there was only silence until Thursday when my eldest sister; Kak Long called me with the news - Abah had a stroke on Monday, and he got progressively worse and became unconscious for the past 24 hours.

I flew home that very night and upon arrival in Penang, went straight to the General Hospital. Abah was still oblivious to the world, and the neurologist said if he didn't come out of it in the next 24 hours, he'd most probably stay in that state permanently. Almost as if he was aware of the time frame given, Abah did wake up before the last 24hr ended. My father - ever the fighter. But it was a painful, and painfully slow process for him learning to live with his post-stroke body. With loving care from Mak and help and support from my siblings, he somehow coped with life.

2006
After the stroke, I called home more often since Abah couldn't use the computer as much as he wanted to anymore. His optic blood supply was severely affected by the stroke, greatly impairing his eyesight which was already troubled by cataract. There were many other things which he couldn't do, and the few things that he could, he had to learn to adapt to new ways of doing things. His mood swings were often, and his outbursts were mostly taken in by Mak in silence. Almost a year after his stroke, I converted from Masters to PhD, and rewarded myself with a 5 week break for Eid in 2006 to be with my parents. That was when I really understood what Mak had gone through for almost a year, caring for a stroke survivor. Abah looked happiest during Eid - asking for a formal family photo shot, for some special Eid delicacies to be cooked, for some distant relatives to be invited over - and many other things which we tried as best as possible to fulfill.

Early 2007
It was in January. Kak Long, over the phone, told me that Abah was diagnosed with cancer. About three weeks after that news, his condition got worse, and I was called home. Like a rewound episode of the 2005's stroke, from the airport I went straight to a hospital where the doctors were running tests to find out more of Abah's cancer. And I was told by a doctor -
"Your father's cancer has started from his left kidney. It is now three times the size of the kidney. Now the cancer has gone into his stomach, spine, liver, and quite possible his lungs."
And a nurse said to me -
"Don't worry too much, some of our DILs do survive for a year or two."
"But what is DIL?" I naively asked.
"Death-in-line," she said matter-of-factly.

Abah, whenever anybody asked him how he was feeling - he'd smilingly give the same response in earnest - "I'm feeling good, Praise be with God". He was completely bedridden by now, and shown a lot of out-of-character behaviours.
"Come and hold my hand, would you?" he'd called out to me from his bed.
"Your hands are so warm... I need that warmth," he'd say when I rubbed his large hands between mine.
"Would you give me a hug before you go to sleep tonight?" he'd asked one time.
"I'd give you a hug every hour if you want me to," I'd said, and I did.

When his pain was so great, and even the painkiller couldn't numb the pain, the only word that escaped his lips were "Allah.... Allah... Allah.." with tears running down his face.

He would thank us all every time we helped him with something - from adjusting his pillow, washing him, to feeding him. My sister once said to him "You don't need to thank me, Abah. We're repaying what you've done to us all before". He said in jest "Wrong response. To thanks, you should say, 'you're welcome'."

I stayed and cared for him for a month, and decided to fly back to Melbourne when he looked a bit more stable. Before leaving for KLIA, I sat next to him, held his hands and mustered the courage to tell him that I love him, and asked him to forgive me for all my transgressions, and thanked him for all that he'd provided and done for me. At this point I was already crying, and he asked me to help him to sit up. I asked him why, and he said - "so I can properly hug you".

While hugging me he said more or less the same things. He said he loved me and he was sorry that he sent me to live with another family when I was in primary school. I told him I understood why, and there's nothing to be sorry about. He told me he was proud of me, and I said to him what I am today is mostly thanks to him. I repeated again that I loved him, and I couldn't have asked for a better father than him. I kissed his cheeks over and over and with one final hug to his frail body wrecked with cancer, I left.

That was the last time I saw Abah alive. He passed away peacefully in his sleep on April 8th, 2007.

August 2007
A lot of things in me I'd shared with Abah - or rather, he had instilled them in me. My passion for books, poetry, my seemingly unfazed front when having to speak in public etc. I've also inherited some of his facial expressions and mannerisms, even his quick temper. I am my father's daughter.

And because I am my father's daughter, and because of my very close relationship with him, the loss is amplified. It was extremely difficult for me to go back to the daily grind in the following months after his passing. I often longed to be back in Malaysia, with Mak and the rest of my siblings, so I would keep myself busy taking care of everybody else and wouldn't wallow too much in my loss and self-pity. Sometimes I would think of something funny or weird and said to myself, "I'd call and share this with Abah tonight", and then I'd catch myself, realizing that he wouldn't be there to answer the call. If it wasn't for my close friends, and my supervisors who have been supportive and encouraged me to get help from a grief counsellor - I probably wouldn't be coping at all. My housemate, who witnessed most of my grieving, often just sat and cried together with me. She's very good, my housemate. She really let me cry, and the few soothing words she said, she genuinely meant them. She didn't leave me alone, neither did she try to get me distracted by forcing me to go out when I didn't even feel like seeing the world around me. She understood that I wanted to feel my sadness, to grieve. I needed that more than anything - the quiet understanding from a kind friend like her.

Different people grieve differently. But I guess that's not common knowledge, otherwise I wouldn't have been been told to my face that I couldn't accept that Abah is gone, and that's why I cried so much. That is not the case. The fact that I cry is an outward sign that I grieve, and this is the way that I grieve. Four months down the road, I don't cry - at least not as much or as often. I meet with solace and peace in Al Quran, I have better understanding of myself and my emotions in reading books on grief and grieving. In talking with my counsellor (which I am still seeing once a month) I can honestly and freely express what is on my mind without being judged. In sitting together - in silent tears or in reminiscent mood with my housemate or P; my other close friend - I realize that love comes and greets me in other ways, emanating through different angles, from different people. It doesn't matter when some others can unknowingly say careless things to me (in fairness to them, most people are generally uncomfortable with others in grieve, and often don't know how to react) - because I do have friends who understand. Being this far from all that remains in my family and home, friends like these are all that matters.

Abah would be happy to know that I'm cared and loved by friends. He is gone for sure, but it's only his life that has ended - not my relationship with him. And I'll always be my father's daughter.

Ph.D : Problem Hantui Dara

I was 28 and single when I started my study. After 4 years, I am still YSL (young single and lovely). I wrote this because I want to show you how we and some people become shallow and sceptical when a single lady voiced out that she wanted to pursue her study to a higher education.


Back then, when I asked permission from my parents, they were so happy and they encouraged me. Alhamdulillah (thanks to God), I got the offer. I was happy and of course, the news broke to orang kampung.
Many congratulated me, as usual, I'm sure you have heard things like "Waa...rajinnya kau, bagusla..anak Malaysia nak belajar tinggi2" (its good to hear u want to pursue, its a pride of nation), etc. But, I'm 200% sure that you will also get this kind of statement "Tapi tu la, kalau belajar tinggi-tinggi sangat, orang tak berani nak meminang"(but, if you study in a higher level, men will get scared and wont propose you). My late grandma even said to me "tak laku la nanti belajar tinggi2. Lelaki taknak"(You wont have any value because men dont want you).


My parents too received many congrats-cum-insinuation comments. "Zull (my papa), tahniahla, tapi anak perempuan kalau belajar tinggi2 pun, ke dapur jugak" (Zull, congrats but it is not worth for a daughter to study in a higher level because she would do the typical kitchen work anyway). I simply answered, "Papa, at least your daughter will go to kitchen with half of her neuron contributing to society. Insya Allah, right?" Papa smiled. And, now I think I cooked curry better that their daughters.


At 28, still naive, I was taken aback by the statements. I admit that at one point, what they said may be true. What if men refuse to hand in the marriage proposal if they know that I'm studying for Ph.D? Infact, at that time, I just had a broken relationship with my ex-bf because he gave me reason "Tak payahla buat Ph.D, Master pun cukupla, kawin nanti jaga abang" (No need to do PhD, enough with your Master. After we get married, you just take care of me).


Phew, I'm fortunate that I went my path.


But, how many of us (the singles) dare to make such decision ? We have seen many brilliant ladies given up their ambition just to get married. And we have heard that many ladies friends grunted "You are fortunate you could pursue your study. I'm already married, it is hard for me..bla..bla. I wish..."


Dont get me wrong. I'm not against marriage.


However, to give up your ambition just because you are scared that u wont get married and feel inferior if people call u 'andartu @ andalusia' (old maid) is not a wise decision. You can be 'andartu' even if you dont do PhD. So what with andartu ?


And ladies, let's be frank here. Do you think that you will earn more respect from your bf/husband if you give up your ambition? Or will you feel satisfied when you have to 'lower' down your intellectual just because you have the feeling that you need to respect your bf/husband? Or simply think like "oklah, i give up, u r man and should be a leader. I'll follow whatever you say (even though I know that I'm right)"

Ladies, there is one thing that you should always remember. Jodoh ditangan Tuhan (Marriage destiny is in God's hand). Instead of succumbing to the 'old-fashion' statement, you should always remember there are many good, logic and brilliant gentlemen looking for the YSL & brilliant ladies like you. The 'resources' never dry.

Dont waste your time thinking about Kasim would reject you if you further your Ph.D. Dont wait by the phone waiting for Jeff Chi to call and got panic attack if he didnt return your call- fearing that he left you with another non-PhD girl. Just leave Maniam out of your mind space if he thinks that your intellectual argument insulting him.

Because, I believe, a gentleman is a man who understand & respect what you like and thinks that you are sexy when you criticize his ideas !

Can u trust the JOURNAL ?

The cliche answer would be "Of course la, it has been published what".

And if you answer that, it shows that your head has not damaged yet.

I learnt a great deal in my first 3 years of research. Seniors said, "find the journal that is related to your topic" Supervisor said, "Justify, justify, justify why you do this and that". The word has become my melody since I do Ph.D. Colleagues said, "Ema, I recommend you this journal, they are good". Some supervisors even offered what he wrote and published.

It was when my draft has been rejected, I know what does it mean with REAL KNOWLEDGE.

With the new supervisor, J, i see my head is damaging. One day, I give my papers for him to check. J took it and read, and at some stage he squinted his eyes. Then he asked "Where do u refer this to ?".

"Oh, from Chap (2000), here, I bring the paper" He read and shook his head.
"What is this ? This is illogic, how did he quantify the technology transfer by the growth of the bank's profit"
"But, J, here..it said..bla..bla..bla".
"No, how did he take x & z, bla..bla..bla. That is wrong. It is not constructive. How come you refer to this paper? Did u 'google'ed it?"
"No, I looked in ProQuest. It is published in Journal MKG..surely what he wrote has been refered by."
"Okay Ema, let us take his argument and apply it in...Malaysia for example...bla..bla..bla. Do u think its logic ?. And here, this part, how come he use the nonstationary variable to..bla..bla..bla. If he use that, the result is spurious"

Ok..this part, is where I scratched my head-scarf. I agreed with the argument. But not wanting to give-up, I stressed,

"But, it is published!, if it is published, by right, it should be RIGHT"

J replied. "But it is wrong.Look Ema, some journals are just bad. This one is bad. U can see how unconstructive the argument is, right?" I nodded.

"But it is published. How come?" I tried to plea so that that verse of mine wont be chunked out.

"Some journals, they just dont care whether the contents are right, proper or logic. They just want the researcher to send them their papers and they compile it, just to ensure they have issue for that quarter", J comforted me.

oooo... (stupid authors). I thought to myself. Menyusahkan aku je.. I thought they were all being sincere.

"Then how should I know that journal is reliable, i mean how to distinguish between the genuine and 'playful' one?"

J said, "U must critics and follow your head and heart"

"But I'm afraid..I dont think I'm at the position to citicize them. These are..u know..the credited authors."

"No, just have to do that. U can see just now how we expostulate the analysis.It is clearly unacceptable. Some times, u just have to trust your judgment".

Thats it. TRUST YOUR JUDGEMENT. That is what I lack of. I have been told that this journal is good, that author in the journal is perfect, the reputation of that journal is reliable. And it seems none of these criteria is valid when it comes to build your confidence.

I also admit a mistake that I've made. My intention to do Ph.D is to obtain knowledge. Remember what the genie in 'The Secret" said..your wish is my command. I obtained knowledge, but what I forgot is to tell the author off that his knowledge cant match mine so that next time he should learn from me !

FATTY FAD

I wrote this to vmpgyahoogroups.com on the 12 Jun, 2007
---------
SEJUTA WANITA MALAYSIA GEMUK ! (Berapa juta agaknya lelaki Malaysia gumuk?) - Refer to Utusan Malaysia and Berita Harian

The news captured my eyes. Suddenly, i saw myself like a moving Michelin tyre. It is scary. Not because i'm afraid that I cant fit to the size-10 kebaya or not able to attract some eligible bachelors, but I'm just worried if I wont be able to carry myself because of the possibilities of deadly and chronic disease before 'time'.

Being a full time PhD student means that my BAT (Buttock, Abs, Thigh) are glued to the ergonomic chair for most of the hours. The ergonomic work space also implies that i have everything within my reach. Safeway chips are in my third drawer (next to healthy Muesli bar - yeah right) and Nescafe Blend on my book shelf. Being a full time student also means that I am always in a desperate situation for...chocolate.


I cant say that i didnt exercise. The exercise (if it can be called as one) that i did were 'bicep and tricept contraction' which is throwing rubbish while sitting, 'brisk walking' which running to the photocopier machine or to the ladies next to my room and 'abs working' which involves sitting-spinning my chair.

I have a love-hate relationship with fat-free products. Hate them because they taste worse than budu and tempoyak. Love them because i dont feel guilty if i eat them twice more than 100% fat product. On calorie-counting, oh..i've done that! It improves my calculation-without-calculator skill significantly by 95% confidence level ! Gym..i do that too and ended up watching guys admiring their own body infront of the mirror (my housemate Tasha witnessed this too, okay). Aerobics ? Yup..count them in, but I stopped because my gay instructors asked me to do cha-cha steps infront of the mirror. Didnt he notice that I am more into Tarian Asyik ??

So, I guess that news struck me in a good way. I begin to picture myself as a gorgeous princess mary (not that i dont want to take zara salim davidson as my idol, but she is too thin). I want my students to admire the glow in my face when i teach. Remember when we used to gossip 'ey cikgu nina tu cantik la, aku suka la kasut dia' ? I want to inspire them..well, not with my shoes though. I want my kids to be able to reach the hands when they hug me. In order to achieve these, first, i have to get rid off the thought of ' i like to have a fat husband so that he cant complaint about my fat'.

So, are you ladies and gentlemen with me ? Let us GO FOR OUR LIFE, we can start with putting our rubbish bin 10 metres away from where it is now. Or, drink more water so we can do more round to the toilet. For the La Trobians, u'll see me in the gym soon..i should start melt my nasi kerabu before it piles on and make me 'kelabu'.

I hope u guys are with me. After all, we prefer to be a gorgeous academician compared to a classic academician, dont we ?

I LOVE MY BODY !
Ema Zull

Is your supervisor supervising you ?

I believe that every university in Australia has somewhat like the research graduate office which caters the postgraduate matters. In my uni, the office gives the PG handbook which outlines the 'task of supervisor', 'task of students','students right' so on and so forth.

The guideline looks perfect and ideal. It didnt occur to you that the nice, well worded guidelines are actually useless when it cant actually help you when you have problems. Especially when you have problems with your supervisor. Although the guidelines say that a supervisor is responsible to supervise you, the question is how should he supervise ? The guidelines do not say explicitly that a supervisor must sit with you an hour per visit. Or, even though it requires him to sit with you an hour per visit, the guidelines are still not enough to back the student.


For example, a student visits the supervisor for an hour. In that hour, the student will expect the supervisor to scribble and correct his mistakes with red pen on the entire writings. But, what happen if the supervisor meets the student, ask him to sit down, read one of 7 paragraphs and the rest of the time is used to lecture your mistakes 'conceptually' instead of pointing directly to your mistakes? Can the student be blamed for coming again on the next visit repeating the similar mistakes ?

During the candidature period, the student is expected to write a journal or present a paper in a seminar/conference. Analyze this case. A student VOLUNTARILY writes an article to be sent to a conference/journal. Then he passes the article to his supervisor hoping that the supervisor will check it. The supervisor agreed to check and put his paper in his drawer. Days pass by, the student went to see the supervisor asking whether he has checked on the paper. The supervisor replied he forgot. The second visit, after a week, the student meets his supervisor, again, the same answer, but this time he gives an assurance that he will read the paper. After the third visit, the supervisor grunted, saying that he is busy and will attend to the students paper on the following week. During the fourth visit, asking again, the supervisor said "what ? did you give me the paper ? When?" There you go...how will you react ? No, not how will you react...how can the guidelines back you up ? Okay, let say after you visit him the fourth time, reminding that your paper is in his drawer, the supervisor apologize and read the paper infront of you for 3 minutes and said that everything is wrong and will not be accepted and ask you to re-write again. And the process goes back to square one.

How would you feel ? Do you think you are treated fairly ? What should you do ?

The two cases above are among many that are experienced by the Ph.D students. The kind of supervision clearly annoys you. But, what is our say ? Even if we want to report, how do we specify that in writings ? Anybody dare to report when you know that the final results is still in the supervisor's hand ? Anybody willing to wait for the commision to analyze your case ?

These are the classic problems facing the students. The tougher guidelines must be imposed on the ettiquete of the supervisor. But, the question is, even with the tougher guidelines, does your supervisor care ?

The Day my TRUST is broken forever.

I never thought that in my 4+ years of doing doctorate, i'd be tested again and again and again until it really made my knees weak. I started like everybody else, I brought along with me an ultimate TRUST. The trust is not only mine, it is my family's trust, my country's trust and the fellow taxpayers' trust. To whom this trust is given ? First, to myself and second, to my supervisor.

I wasnt an A-straight student. Infact, I wasnt a bright student. Therefore, I had to struggle hundred times more than my peers. It wasnt easy when you have to carry the trust in your head everyday, especially with the taxpayers' money. Having that thought in my mind, i told myself and my supervisor that I need to complete my research in three years. Yes. that is how i intended and i was determined.I worked blood, sweat and tears throughout those 3 years. I didnt give myself any reason for not finish in 3 years. For me, reasons are for failures. I didnt give anybody the chance to say that 'she does not do anything'. Infact, i didnt give the chance for my supervisor to criticize my work. I even remember the dialogue between me and him. "I want to finish in 3 years, can you help me ? I'll put whatever I have in this 3 years", "why are you so worried, with your work style, i guarantee u'll finish less than 3 years. U just follow my instructions.". "Okay, i trust you". "Yes, trust me". So I trusted him, and I worked.Well, do i get praised ? Heaps ! Did i finish my work on time everytime I met my supervisor ? Not a single delay.

The ultimatum.
3 years and 2 months. I finished my first draft. I didnt expect my first draft to be entirely correct. But, well, i followed the trust, i followed what my supervisor had told me to do. Soon, i'll be back to my beloved family, right ? WRONG!I gave 2 weeks for my supervisor to read my draft. I shouldnt be worried. I've already collected empty boxes for my stuff just in case I only need 2 months to do the correction. I shouldnt be worried as well when my supervisor said "I'm leaving to Monash Uni. But dont worry, I am responsible to make sure you finish your thesis. Infact, I am guilty because I should take a better care of you".

The Day.
It was on Friday, 3.00pm. Me, my supervisor and my new supervisor sat in our common room to discuss on the draft. My supervisor looked tense. He started with "Bloody hell, what have u done with your thesis ? " To my shocked, i asked him "Why?", he replied, "Heaven, the entire thesis is wrong !" "What ??" . "I dont know what you did, but these are rubbish" . Yes, he called my TRUST there rubbish. I sat there for an hour, keeping my fist together. Tremble inside. My face was red in embarrassment over the yelling, the 'bloody hells' and 'heavens' throughout the entire meeting. At the end of the meeting, he stood up and said to my new supervisor. "Well, i dont know what to do and how to fix this mess. Maybe u can look after her. I'm going to Monash. Haha..okay, i'll see you there" and there he went..to the BAR.

It was just a beginning.
I looked at my new supervisor. Trying so hard not to drop my tears infront of him. He politely said to me. "Go home first, we'll fix this tomorrow". No, i didnt go home straightaway. I went to his room and asked "Will you tell me how long will it takes to fix this ?" He answered, "Frankly, more than 6 months" His words shattered my dreams. I could see nothing for a few seconds. Blank. Weak. I could feel blood gushing out from my body.

I walked blindly towards home. Crying as much as I could. Not over the yelling, but the TRUST that i've given him.I occupied myself on that weekend and my friends noticed my pale face. On Monday I called Malaysia. "Mama, nak balik..."..And I took off to my homeland, unfortunately for only one month. Together with me, were the TRUST that had already broken...no..its not broken...it was BETRAYED!

Ema Zull

Damaged yet ?

Dear friends,

I intend to compile a story about your life while doing Ph.D. Please submit your stories to damagedyet@yahoo.com