You can hear the blood pumping through your nerves as time passes you by. It’s late. It’s quiet. Your eyelids droop slowly, longing to meet you lower eyelashes. Words, letters and numbers begin to merge in a murky haze as you read on. The more you read, the less you remember. Diagrams, flow charts, incomprehensible text and images scramble around your brain, playing a twisted game of musical chairs as facts try to find a place to rest within your mind. With Herculean strength, you muster willpower from somewhere deep in the crevasses of your soul. Overdramatic angst it may be, but midterms are unfortunately upon us. With sad realization comes even more depressing consequence. A massive slump. Slamming your book shut and flinging your meticulous study guides against drab walls, the end of the world never seemed so imminent. A struggle for survival ensues.
Unfortunately, for the town of Empire in northwestern Nevada, it literally is the end of the line. A company town that was once a hub for industry, specifically construction, has collapsed into a desolate relic of its former self. Until it is deemed appropriate to re-install the construction plant and revitalize surrounding communities, Empire will remain silent, lifeless and abandoned. A nearby school’s enrollment has dwindled to a lowly nine students. A family stares back forlornly at their deserted town: none of them had ever fathomed the day they would be asked to vacate their home. Here is not a snapshot of a town in imminent danger from natural disaster or manmade warfare. Instead, here is an indicator of our grim reality: we are beginning to give up. Who knows how long it will be before our global empire will tumble to the ground, uninhibited by cushions of perseverance or fervency.
This small town in Nevada is not the only one to be brought to its knees in light of trying times. Greece is battling with a comprehensive two-day strike, which saw hundreds of professionals abandon their duties in efforts to protest new governmental measures. Ferries went out of operation. Flights were grounded. Lawyers, doctors, dentists, store owners and store workers all resorted to walking out of their respective job environments with a unified passivity. An ancient civilization once notorious for mysteries of mythology, epic sporting events and a Spartan fighting spirit now falls to its knees under austerity measures. Choosing to strike is a different manifestation of spirited response. However, just as choosing to run away from your dreaded midterm won’t help you achieve mental salvation, neither will fleeing a nation’s debt crisis by choosing hostility over purposefulness.
Trees outside seem even darker. The study lounge begins to empty. Deep sighs echo across tables as fellow students forfeit studying for the night. I watch struggling peers gather their books and scrunched up Nutri-Grain bar wrappers. Air tingles with nervous energy. Muffled whispers can be heard of people lamenting weeks ahead. A particularly tortured soul mumbles haphazard commands to his iPhone 4s. I felt compelled to tell him even Siri can’t save you now. You know times are hard when not even the dulcet tones of Herman Cain’s odious “Imagine There’s No Pizza” can bring a smile to our exhausted faces.
While wallowing in my examination woes, I happened upon a story that snapped me out of my melancholy. I read about a man who completed a marathon, a huge achievement in itself. An even greater feat since he just completed his race at the age of 100 years. Fauja Singh, an Indian immigrant, has resided in Great Britain since the 1960s. He is the oldest man to complete the Toronto Waterfront Marathon in a respectable time of eight hours, 25 minutes and 16 seconds. He placed 3,850th, ensuring he beat five other runners to the finish line. Singh began his pursuit of running about 11 years ago, after the deaths of his wife and son. Eager to keep his spirit alive, he began running 10 to 11 miles a day. Now he’s achieved his dream to complete a marathon – a triumph no one could have anticipated from a man who has lived for a century. An obvious question arises: how did he do it? He claims his zest for life comes from ginger curry, tea and “being happy.” Upon his devastating personal loss, he did not choose to put life on hold and run away from reality. Instead, he ran alongside it.
There will be instances when we feel like throwing in the towel and walking away. Yet, it takes someone to grab those towels off the ground to wipe beads of sweat from a determined brow for us to find additional motivation. An obvious correlation may be difficult to find between a 100-year-old man’s marathon feat and an imminent collapse of a nation, but the sentiment is surprisingly the same. I open my textbook with renewed diligence. The finish line and its glory are near, it’s just a matter of whether you want to prevail to reach it.
Sofiya Mahdi is a sophomore in the College of Arts & Sciences and a weekly columnist for The Daily Free Press. She can be reached at sofiya21@bu.edu.
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