The day was 10 July 2006. The time was 2:00 am. It was a Monday morning. The biggest event of the year had arrived. All eyes were on France vs Italy as the classic story of underdog versus the favourite was about to begin. It was a World Cup final. How can I miss it for my life? However, a few hours before kick-off, my dad gave me strict instructions, “Don’t watch the game, you have school on Monday morning. How are you going to wake up if you watch the game?”. The only reaction I had in my head was, “This is not happening. It’s a world cup final. How can I not watch it?”. So, my dad went out to watch the match with his friends as they had a little side betting going on. Of course, I being the obedient and good child woke up and switched on the television at 2:00 am just as my dad wanted me to. A Meterrazi insult, a Zidane headbutt and 9 penalties later, Italy won the FIFA World Cup 2006. I quickly switched off the television and ran back to my room to sleep. I could hear my dad opening the door as I tried to fall asleep. An hour later, I woke up for school. Unbelievable.

Four years later, it was that time again. It was Spain versus Netherlands. I have been supporting Spain throughout the tournament and got one of those little jerseys too. Again, it was at 2:30 am in the morning! Ridiculous. You would think my dad would give the same instructions again as that year was my final year of study at school. Instead, he ended up watching it with me. Similar to the last World Cup, they couldn’t finish it in normal time and the match had to go on for at least half an hour longer. Ludicrous! I remembered this moment all so clearly.

Now Torres. Iniestia is in the middle. Torres is trying to find him. It’s broken for Fabregas. Now, it’s Iniesta! This is it! That’s the goal. Span have surely won the World Cup! 

That was the English commentary. At that moment, I jumped for joy. Shouted. Screamed. Celebrated. What have you. I did everything. How can you fall asleep after your team wins the World Cup? Similarly, it was 5:00 am in the morning. This time, I didn’t make it to school as my dad let me sleep in and well, I skipped school. I would had thought some if not all of my friends would have done the same thing. There were 45 students. Guess what happened. 44 students went to my class on that Monday. My school had a policy whereby your parents have to explain why their child didn’t attend class. I think my dad wrote in his letter, “My son was tired and was not feeling well.” My teacher read the letter and went, “Tired?”. Everyone laughed as they knew why I skipped class.

My dad told me, “It’s alright. I don’t know if you are able watch the next World Cup. You might not have a television or you might be busying studying in university. It’s only one day of school.” He was referring to the fact that I moved from Malaysia to Australia for tertiary education. I wonder what changed in four years. My dad always said, “One day, maybe I will bring you to London to watch some of the Arsenal games but I’m worried that if Arsenal lose, it will ruin the whole trip.” This was because I went on PMS mode if Arsenal lost a match back in the day. I guessed overtime, he saw how enthusiastic and passionate I was about watching football.

Football does that to you I guess. Maybe not to you, the reader but certainly to millions of  fans everywhere. This is what Jurgen Klopp, the manager of Liverpool had to say when asked about the fans.

We have to make their lives better. Because football is not so important, of course not. We don’t save lives. We are not doctors. It’s our job that they can forget their problems for 90 minutes and then they can talk about the game, about the next game and that’s how I want to live.

Football may sometimes be ruined by allegations of doping, corruption and cheating but regardless, it will always bring that sense of elation that outfights these despicable acts that is until a few days ago. No longer is the commentary about the winning goal but rather about the bombs and explosions that took place near Stade de France. It wasn’t about football anymore. It was now about humanity.

Fans were in fear as they rushed onto the pitch. Players from both France and Germany were in shock as news of the attacks reached their ears. Tweets came out in droves. Profile pictures were changed. The world took notice and were now mourning together with the citizens of France.

Why? Why them? Why terrorise a nation? Why murder?

Why?

As I saw the pictures come out in the news, my heart was filled with sadness but also recognized that I couldn’t do much but pray and be hopeful for the people that were affected by this. Looking at this from a footballing perspective, the Germany players said,

We came to Paris to do what connects us all- to play football, together, against one another and in friendship. To have an enjoyable evening together with our fans, to show sporting ambition, but particularly we came for a fair and peaceful encounter. We all looked forward to playing in the Stade de France, to have a great night of football, which ended up turning into a nightmare.

I can never understand the reasoning and the motive of  the culprits responsible for this. As millions of other people asked the same question, suddenly there were two factions of people that slowly emerged. One decided to bash religion and begin to pour hate onto the Muslim community. Another decided to point out the selective grief that our society so often engages in and did not care about the attacks on Beirut and Baghdad. If you are able to recall, a similar thing happened during the Boston Marathon bombing in 2013. In a time where solidarity and unity is most needed, we couldn’t even agree that the actions of a group of people does not reflect a religion. We didn’t have to criticize and condemn those that showed their support through tweets and photos. People don’t actively search for bombings all across the world on the news to respond to. The human mind responds to what they see on the news first.

However, I do agree that we do grief selectively. Beirut and Baghdad have every right to feel aggrieved that the world did not show as much support to them as they did to France. Perspective is needed. This is not down to the problem of new age media but rather the problem of us as individuals. When violence and bombings seems to be the norm in a city, we grow desensitized to it. When places such as The City of Light, known for its art, music, culinary and entertainment is attacked, the mind immediately recognizes the out of the ordinary.

There’s also the perception to take our lives for granted. We often forget each of us could go at any day of the year. Hence, we seem to live in a bubble whereby news of the world does not concern us as we think we are only affected by all that is occurring locally. Is this what the world has come to?

In the last stanza of the poem by Karuna Ezara Parikh, she wrote:

Say a prayer for Paris by all means
but pray more,
for the world does not have a prayer
for those who no longer have a home to defend
For a world that is falling apart in all corners
and not simply in the towers and cafes we find so familiar

In an age where people going to a football match to forget about their daily struggles and worries for 90 minutes can’t do so any more in fear of terrorism,

where security has to be heightened to combat against suicide bombings,

where we believe actions of a group reflect a whole religion,

where we seem to have no more hope in humanity,

The world is our football field. Each person our team mate. We are not only responsible for each other for 90 minutes but for the rest of our lives. We need to remember to love. We need to remember to show compassion. That’s how we overcome our worries. That’s how we overcome our struggles. That’s how we should live.

 

“How are you?”

“I’m alright. No, actually, I’m dying,”

Dying is an over exaggeration but that had been my response for a better part of this year every single time someone asked me that question. I didn’t have the energy to say, “I’m good! And how about you good sir!” because when you’re tired, you just are. There’s no reason to hide it. There’s no reason to say, “I’m perfect.” It’s not that the person does not want to but rather the person just can’t no matter how hard he tries.

I don’t think I’m busier than other people. I do not concur with the idea that engineering is the hardest discipline among the ones available. I do not believe that my situation is worse than others because what I went through is what everyone goes through at different stages of their lives. Some handled it by having a goal oriented focus towards what they want to achieve. They create lists of objectives and ticked them one by one as they go along. It keeps them on schedule. Some handle business by simply procrastinating. The intensity of stress is so severe that it overwhelms you to hide in a shell. I probably did a little of both.

As I am almost at the end of my university life, I had a fair share of the so called ‘busy’ periods but it’s all in a blur now. If you asked me how I got through them, I can’t give you an answer because in that moment, you do whatever it takes to get through the stress and fatigue of assignments, projects and part time work. I always have this feeling that lecturers and course administrators forget that students are not machines because assignments and projects don’t make up someone’s life. It’s probably not the stress from university workload that kills you but rather the emotional bearing from human relationships and interaction that does. Those long pages of essays and reports probably only add a little weight to your burden but we have seen it before. Sometimes, a paper’s width creates the whole difference between what it is and what could have been.

Usually, a culmination of a person’s university life ends with thesis. It’s what that is required when you want to graduate with honours.  If done right, it can produce one of life’s most exhilarating moments when finished. If done horribly, a person probably just moves on just as with any other disappointment in life. Side effects from thesis include 1) going bald 2) realising head and shoulders shampoo still won’t do you any good 3) loss in weight 4) increase uptake of instant noodles  5) which makes you lose your hair even more and 4) makes you not care about anything else.

I think it’s really easy to let you be the result of your goals instead of vice versa. When we let a career decision or a goal drive you forward, there’s brilliance in that but I also never agree with that. I don’t want to be done with this year and when people asked me, “How was your year?”, I don’t want to answer, “It was good. Thesis went well.” I think it’s concerning when your whole year is purely just about your work.

One of my friends, concerned for me send me this rather brilliant piece of writing titled, “The Disease of Being Busy“. It’s something everyone ought to remind themselves of their heart every once in a while, to remind you and I that our hearts are beating. It encourages us to remember to open our hearts to each other. I got to admit that I had to push myself away from people certain times throughout the year as I tried to find a good work life balance. I wouldn’t say this is also the reason I am not in a relationship but I guessed it contributed towards that. I wasn’t physically tired by any stretch of the imagination. I was mentally exhausted and every once in a while, I had to remind myself I am not a machine.

One of the things I did this year to remind myself of that was to go to daily mass more frequent. It is actually one of the nicest things about universities in Sydney. Every university has a chaplaincy that organises daily mass at 12pm so it is very convenient to attend one. I usually go to them two to three times a week. Honestly, I think I would had burned out much sooner if it wasn’t for the daily masses. Another was to play the guitar a little bit every single day. When I hear the sounds off the strings, I feel alive in the rhythm. Sometimes, I would also call my friends randomly and say a little hello.

Despite my best efforts to not be a machine, some days were inevitable. In the days leading up to my thesis presentation, I constantly felt torn inside because of the sheer amount of stress I was in. My heart needed rest. I remembered I was crazily nervous about my thesis presentation. There was a crowd of 20 people in the room and four lecturers who were sharpening their swords and ready to fire their questions. It wasn’t so much the anxiety that caused the nervousness but rather the disappointment at having not produce much to show for my work despite my best efforts throughout the year. On that Thursday, I felt like a pile of rocks and lifeless. Somehow, one by one of my friends tried their best to cheer me up and said, “Don’t worry bro. You got this. You’re going to do well.” When I see each of them caring so much about me, slowly, I remembered all that was good with life. I remembered the insane amount of blessings God has given me. My friends had always checked up on me to see if I’m okay. My sister was always concerned about me.

When it was my turn to present my thesis, I went up and calm myself down. I don’t know how much of it is true but my friends said it was one of the best of the day. I chose to believe I did well but not because of my own efforts but because of my friends and family. They brought belief back to me during a time I needed it the most.

Now that my thesis is done and dusted, I can reflect on the past year. I am glad I tried my best to remind myself that everyday is important and when I forgot, I am thankful for the people that shook me alive. It is so easy to feel restless and concentrate on the job at hand. You did well. Congratulations! But at what cost? Cost of a year? Every day is just as important. Every second is a heart beating moment. No matter how tired are you, remember that you only have today and you can never be confident tomorrow is going to come.

What happened in the past year? I learned how to play the guitar better. I wrote some songs albeit horrible at times. I got to be closer to a priest that taught me the importance of humility and respect. I blogged a little more. I knew my course mates from engineering a lot better. Most importantly,  the year wasn’t just ” I did my thesis.” For that, I’m grateful. The time you are experiencing may be the toughest time of your life but it probably won’t be your last toughest time. Just hang in there. I know it is hard but hang in there. It will pass. As long you don’t lose yourself in the process and live a heartfelt life, you’ll be fine.

Yesterday, a friend asked me, “How are you?”. For the first time in a long while, I told her, “I’m good!”.