I still remember my convocation day clearly, even though it happened more than two decades ago. It was 2001, and instead of walking into Dewan Tunku Canselor (DTC) like generations before us, we gathered at Stadium Putra (now Axiata Arena) in Bukit Jalil. DTC had been damaged by a fire and was undergoing renovation, so my cohort became the only group in Universiti Malaya’s history to receive our degrees outside the campus.

At the time, it felt like a historical moment. A little unusual, a little grand. I remember standing there in my robe, looking around the huge stadium, the echo of footsteps bouncing off the walls, feeling strangely grown up and not quite ready. I was 26, holding a degree in biomedical engineering, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like things were beginning to make sense.

Earlier in my life, I had stumbled in ways that still sting when I think back on them. The med school episode in Australia had been a disappointment that I carried quietly for years. So, graduating from UM felt like reclaiming something I had lost. A promise I had made to myself that finally came full circle.

That day, I also received the Anugerah Pelajaran Diraja. I stood on stage as the university’s valedictorian, delivering a speech before the Chancellor and thousands of guests. It was overwhelming and surreal. For a short moment, I thought I had reached the peak of life. The top of the mountain. The big achievement that would define everything going forward.

Looking back now, I smile at how young I was. Not foolish, just early in understanding. Because what I did not realise then was how many more peaks life would ask me to climb. How many more occasions, celebrations, setbacks and rebounds were waiting just around the corner.

Convocation felt huge, but it was actually one of many milestones. And like all milestones, it passed. Not in a sad way, but in a natural way. That is just how life works. We celebrate, we smile for photos, we share the moment with the ones we love, and then we step into the next chapter.

Life keeps moving

Because life keeps moving whether we are ready or not.

Graduates often celebrate as if this is the biggest day of their lives. And at that age, it feels that way. You have worked so hard, pulled so many late nights, pushed through so many doubts. You deserve to celebrate. You deserve every bit of joy that comes with crossing the stage and hearing your name. But what I wish someone had told me in 2001 is this: never cling too tightly to a single moment, no matter how beautiful it is.

You see, there will be many more beautiful moments. There will be moments far more meaningful than you can imagine now. Moments that do not come with robes or certificates or photographs, but come quietly in the middle of your ordinary days. The first time you realise you can survive something you once feared. The first time someone depends on you and you rise to the occasion. The first time you become proud not of your achievements, but of the person you have become.

Rumi once wrote that when the soul lies down in the grass, the world is too full to talk about. It reminds me that joy and meaning often come quietly, without applause, without the stage lights, without the ceremony. Convocation teaches you how to celebrate. Life teaches you that celebration is not meant to be held forever. It asks you to move, to grow, to turn the page even when the last one was good.

So, to the graduates walking out of UM this convocation season starting this weekend, I want to say this gently: celebrate this moment with all your heart. Feel proud of yourself. Feel hopeful. Feel grateful. But remember, do not cling to this day as if it is the height of your life. It is only the beginning. Life has many more peaks waiting for you. Many more days that will surprise you. Many more chances to rise again. And again.

When I walked out of Stadium Putra in 2001, I thought the world had reached a climax. I now know it was simply opening the first door towards the next chapter. Life becomes meaningful not by staying at the top, but by continuing the climb.

Because life moves. And so will you.

-- BERNAMA

Ir Dr Nahrizul Adib Kadri (nahrizuladib@um.edu..my) is a professor of biomedical engineering at the Faculty of Engineering, and the Principal of Ibnu Sina and Tuanku Bahiyah Residential College, Universiti Malaya.