A year of immense struggle has arguably had a serious stronghold on the mental health of all Malaysians but there appears to be a glimpse of hope at a life close to normalcy due to the government's commendable efforts in its national immunisation programme.
Nevertheless, this may not be enough to quell the storms that brew in the hearts of all Malaysian hearts.
Upon reflection of all the difficult episodes that all of us have had to endure this year, a grave fear of mine is that our struggle with Covid-19 has emotionally confined to us to a mental prison.
It is viciously forcing us to hold a dangerously narrow perspective of the meaning that our lives truly hold because the thought of our mortality being at stake hangs over us like a loose thread, leaving us to forget our true purpose in life.
There is no doubt that the lingering thought of suffering from a life-threatening infection is near impossible to simply put aside as it is too terrifying a prospect to take for granted, leaving us in a justifiable state of heart-palpitating worry.
Covid-19 being a relatively new phenomenon, we must remind ourselves it is yet another burdensome reality we are to shoulder along with the worry of putting food on the table. But, is that all there really is to life?
What do I live for? It is upon being born that we are presented with the answer. We realise that attached to our lives, at the start of birth, are the people we love.
It is only down the road that we realise that love drives us in many ways in that we live to protect the ones that we love. Whether it be family, friend or even yourself we recognise that we know what we live for by first understanding as to whom we live for.
It is not just the worry over our loved one's health and security that should move us to act cautiously but whether we truly do live for them, whether we have rejoiced or cried enough with who we love. Whether we have truly spent the present moment with who we love enough.
One such realisation that moves me is the fact that union will inevitably result in separation. That there may be a day that the very parents I love who were there for me at my birth will not be there for me forever.
The realisation I will not hear the voice of my young sister forever and that my beloved pet dog's gleeful bark will be no longer. The smell of my grandmother's cooking will only be reduced to a distant memory and that the phone of which my grandfather calls daily will one day ring no longer.
It is by virtue of me knowing that I work every day of my life to come home to a family and a home which brings me joy and the understanding that even when they pass I will be grateful that I even had the chance to experience that which will in time bring me peace.
It is by first reminding myself as to who I live for that I can then truly appreciate what I live for because the fulfilment of life rests in the very act of living itself. It is about living for who we love.
The views expressed in this article are the author's own and do not necessarily reflect those of the New Straits Times
