in remembrance.
So much has happened this year that it’s just hard to even piece all these disjointed thoughts together, so hard to make anything coherent. They come in fragments and pieces, some fit and some are still waiting for what appears to be a backlogged to arrive.
What’s really stricken me as of late is the Sabah Earthquake. It has taught me several things:
1. Life is so precious. Brave young souls who still had so much waiting for them, taken too soon. I can only send my condolences. My own grief is nothing compared to the mothers, fathers, wives, brothers, sisters, cousins, uncles and aunties who have lost their loved on to this tragedy. I can’t think of another word to replace unfortunate. The word itself seems so crass and sterile, it makes me feel as if these lives are but numbers, statistics and perhaps it could happen to anyone else who was there. Deep down inside, I feel it’s more than that.
2. We can never be fully prepared. Because it is the truth. We can argue and reason and debate and rationalise. Do everything under the sun. But how do you prepare for the unexpected, the unprecedented? And at times, history has shown, that even being so prepared still leaves you affected.
3. Egocentrism. Initially, this bothered me. But I have learnt to accept that everyone has their own opinions and that it is unfortunate that the opinions of some are really debased, self-centred and for lack of a better phrase - shallow, vapid, childish and delusional. I will never blame the government or the ministry for this. I will never blame the school or the teachers. I will never blame the parents. Because who in their right mind would wish or want for the loss of such innocent lives? It all goes back to 2. Because we can never be fully and truly prepared.
4. Focusing on the now. This goes back to 3. There isn’t a point to the blame game. It happened and there is nothing much that we can do about it. Save for prayers. Save for empathy and compassion for those who survived - the calamity and the loss of their loved ones.
I saw pictures of when the rescuers found the bodies of the children, of other victims. It was heartbreaking. In the back of my head I replay the scenes of the parents coming home from a day of work, so attuned to the familiar voices of their children only to face the quiet yet painful reminder that they are no longer there. Beds that will no longer be slept in. An empty place at the dinner table. Photographs on the wall. That last time that name will ever appear in their call list. The wife of the teacher who is still missing, with her young children and only the story of how their father was a selfless, brave man who was loved by his students and peers and most importantly, who loved his family and is waiting for them in Jannah.
I just can’t.
It is only the show of solidarity (though a part of me feels belated) on the part of the athletes competing in the SEA Games, the messages of love and empathy from strangers and especially our Prime Minister, that has given some strength and solace.
I cannot forget too that it is a dark time for the world, what with the terrifying disasters of Mother Nature that has been happening across the world. If I was a religious scholar, perhaps I would say that it is a sign. But I’m not. And I’m refraining from that. It has reminded me more of Allah, reminding me that all life on Earth is temporary and that we should never waste a moment not being grateful and thankful for what we have.
I see my parents, my family, my friends, all my loved ones in a different light. I need them to know that I love them - thick and thin, good and bad, better and worse. As my thoughts reflect on this, I pray for the brave souls who have left us. May the rescuers also find the remaining two Singaporeans. And thank you, for bringing them back home to us.
