Counting Days

18th March 2020 was a memorable day for most people in this country. For some, it was the day that changed their lives. For me, it was more than just that. It was the day when I began to count days, counting the number of days of absolute madness and chaos that I was expected to endure.

The sun shone like any other day, but it was a day full of excitement, fears, and uncertainties. But mostly uncertainties. I was unsure if I could handle such dramatic changes to my usual prescriptive timetable. I viewed the new “online classes” with great skepticism. My fear lay in the lack of social interactions and my concern was that it might one day drive me insane. Despite my cynical mentality, I nevertheless felt a surge of exhilaration for this brand-new adventure ahead.

When my alarm started screaming punctually at half past six, I automatically and clumsily reached for my school uniform. Still half-asleep, I did not realise my errors until I failed to disentangle the tie around my neck. I reflected that this was no ordinary school day as I discarded the uncomfortable uniform for something more appropriate and less constraining.

For the first time in my seventeen years of schooling, the first thing I did was to wait patiently in front of a computer, without any plan or timetable to dictate my daily routines. At first, there was nothing. Nothing but a calm and blank screen with an eerie humming in the background. But I knew something was bound to appear sooner or later. I rubbed my hands in anticipation and excitement, waiting for the first thing to manifest itself from the abyss of nothingness.

But I was quite mistaken. It did not materialize. They materialized. Like a torrent of water ejected from a broken sprinkler, message after message emerged chaotically out of nowhere. I was actually quite bewildered by how they all came into view simultaneously, proudly declaring their arrival with a rather annoying “beep”. I froze and stared blankly at the screen, horrified that I needed to check every single one of them, all commanding me to complete specific tasks. With trembling fingers, I slowly took hold of the mouse and opened the first email with trepidation.

It was, as I anticipated, an invitation to join a virtual classroom. I entered the link immediately and found that there was not a single person online. Where was everyone? I felt terribly alone amidst the void. Panicking, I returned to read the message once again. Carefully spelling out each word, I was relieved that the lesson would only take place in another fifteen minutes. I set myself a reminder and proceeded to read the other flurry of notifications. It was a painful process. A few merely included summaries on what was expected of the students during the week, but the vast majority of the mails demanded the recipient to complete certain tasks before a specific deadline. My heart sank. I did not expect that I would be burdened with so much work -- and this was just Day One! How was I going to survive the rest? Silently I hoped that everything was just part of a bad dream.

RING-RING! The reminder bell bought me back from daydreaming to reality. I re-entered my virtual classroom for the first online-lesson in my entire life. I felt quite apprehensive, ensuring all my electronic equipment was functioning properly. But I was also equally thrilled to be part of this new experience. Seeing the faces of my teacher and fellow classmates created an illusion that I was really back at school. Unfortunately, it was no ordinary lesson as I hoped. Instead it was more of a question and answer session, during which I learned little of what should have been covered. That meant I had only one option left to ensure maximum productivity: self-study.

And that’s exactly what I did for the rest of the day, well beyond the length of the supposed school day. I read the textbooks pages until I understood them; I somehow managed to complete all the “classwork” assigned by my teachers; and I even answered some queries sent by my friends who were also struggling. By the end of the day, I was utterly exhausted and overwhelmed by the flood of information overload.

I took a long and well-deserved rest during which I contemplated the events of the day. Though I still hoped for a better and more normal school day, I realised that nothing can be done to alter the new status quo of learning from home. I accepted that many challenges related to online learning would arise during this time and only I have the ability to overcome them. On the other hand, I felt a quiet satisfaction by what I have achieved and learned. Above all, however, I no longer feared the unpredictable future and I understood it was my obligation to make every day as productive as possible.

I returned to the desk and I opened my diary, with a flourish, to the entry marked “Day One”. With great confidence, I wrote down the first line: “Don’t count the days; make the days count.”