MUN is a term that often feels alien to me these days. quite ironic considering MUNs have been a staple of the past 4 years of my life. from eighth grade till now, the very last minute before college applications. i understand that whatever i have done till now is a feat, if not extraordinary. a quick reflection on the past tells me i did not quite get where i wanted with so many conferences, and when i talk about the supposed destination, i consider the what-ifs. but that is the issue – i should be content with how things are now and take it in stride that i now have memories to look back upon.

4 years ago, my whole batch signed up for a MUN conference. i was going through a strange phase in my life at the time. no direction, no idea what i was set out to do and i believe it was the same with just about everyone. when you’re 15, you really have no clue about your place in the world. at the time, i still believed in a career as a musician, and dreaming of playing in a subpar band meant everything to me. except, i stopped my fascination with music prematurely. something did not feel right. that urge to pick my guitar for hours stopped. i tried understanding myself from a thousand angles, but the conclusion i was left with was simple – i was lost. quite literally at a point where i had nothing to lose because i never really had anything, i decided to not dip last second. i wore a blue shirt with no blazer as i stepped into something i was only familiar with through Snapchat and Instagram stories.

i had no idea what i was researching or whatever first speech i was writing. i remember asking one of my friends a million questions just so that i don’t embarrass myself. yes, all i focused on was not embarrassing myself. to make it worse, i was one of the two main stakeholders of the very committee. whoever allocated me to what country clearly did it for a unique twist i am guessing? or maybe just to quickly fill up allocations? i guess we will never know, will we?

funny enough, it was exactly 4 years ago when i did my first conference. while i am not one to be kept mute about writing lengthy descriptions of what happened, who was there with me, or how it all went down, i can proudly say i met a handful of people that i still, to this day, feel the need of impressing. these were people, regular people. not hotshot senior athletes i knew from my school, but people that took control of a room with their voices – a concept i never thought to be valid until i felt it myself. i have seen formal debates only in elementary school till then, and it never intrigued me enough to step in or try it myself. but then i saw these people, full of might in their voices and their speeches like war cries. you can call me a child, but that is what i truly felt as an introverted teenager back then. among them was Tamim bhai, and i will never deny my impression of him as a speaker laying a foundation to my confidence later on.

that winter, i kept daydreaming of winning an award someday. i kept imagining what it might feel like to go up on stage in front of more than 600 people. surely, no one could remember me even if i did, but all it mattered to me was whether or not i will ever get a moment to get up on stage. i could never play sports because of a health problem, could never win math olympiads because i was terrible at math, or distinguish myself as a guitarist because i lost my reason to do so. yet, the most out-of-the-place option for me made the most sense – win something at public speaking.

“i will chair a committee someday.”

i texted that to one of my friends. they then proceeded to send that screenshot to one of our group chats and everyone laughed. i did too, naturally. after all, till then my impression was nothing but a whining crybaby who broke down so many times in front of everyone. but soon after, i won an award in my second conference, an honorable mention.

as i heard my dais calling my name, i had a moment that probably is very anime-like but it’s true – a sudden flash of the preceding days. researching like a madman for a very simple agenda, reading out typed-out speeches like the people i saw before, and starting my cycle of overworking with a lack of sleep. oh did i mention how terrible the commute was? anyways, they called my name. excited? yes, i definitely was. but more than me were my friends. they all took videos of me going upstage. validation was something i never imagined or set as a motivation in the first place yet they did. coming back from the stage, i hugged my certificate. i proved something about myself that night and i could not stop imagining where to go next.

what followed me next were all adventures in this domain. i met more people. some praising me for my oratory skills, while others criticized me day-night. it was a taxing and lonely journey, but i did not feel like quitting midway. it could not be midway, i just started a journey without any set goals. gradually, i made long-term commitments including reviving my school’s dead MUN club with Maisha, leading a strong delegation internationally, and dreaming of becoming a Secretary General of SMUN someday. something deep down tells me i had the determination to make it all possible, and i still believe in it even with where i am right now.

this journey plagued my life as well. facing a terrible defeat at the end of 2019 destroyed my self-confidence. i was not disappointed in the lack of a better award, i just felt like i was cursed to be a “paper reader” for the rest of my life. i also committed so much time to finding a “place” for myself that i ended up rejecting so many of my close friends. the newer people i met did nothing but leave a negative impact in my life although as i am older now, i was necessary. along the way, i ended up with the curse i now harbor – seeking validation from people. i became obsessed with winning another award just so that people could stop having that image of me as a pathetic nobody, and i did but the haunting image did not stop there. taking the pandemic as an opportunity, i stopped doing what i loved doing.

it did not help me in the slightest. as someone who binged on ego trips, i was getting sick every day. i had no motivation to be better, and all i did was dissociate myself even further. 2020 was terrible to me, but i think i was the one who caused it for myself. if i latched onto the hope of another conference, online or in-person, i would not have gone astray. it is pitiful i know, to fixate in one thing and forget everything else. but what could i have else done? i am simply not good in anything, and with MUNs i don’t think i was that good either honestly speaking.

yet, it wasn’t all about MUNs that served as a crutch for me. all the glory days, all the people i met, all the terrifying moments, and the anxiety to top it all off, all make me who i am today. it isn’t necessarily my identity, but it is indeed a part of me. today, i am not remembered when my friends mention MUNs, but i care less and less about it now. right now, i don’t delegate like i used to and enjoy the more “teaching” role as my school club’s president. back then, i didn’t really have a mentor who saw through me wholeheartedly so i give it my all to help me back then. it is quite dramatic the way i put it, but i guess it’s universal with most people, if not everyone, to feel this way when they try guiding others. i still sit on a few pipe dreams with MUNs, but the constant vivid dreams have long passed. i guess i’ll figure something out later when i am older and reminiscing about me being 19.

MUNs were never regarded highly by people and i agree to certain extents as to why. but being a relic who has nothing to do with this world now, i simply enjoy sharing my memories with others, and maybe someday, i’ll meet another Tahir. not a Tahir obsessed about MUNs, but a Tahir with a fascination to achieve something beyond his reach. to that Tahir, i hope you’re doing well and i’ll see you soon, buckeroo.

as an appreciation to people i fondly remember in this journey, thank you Tamim bhai, Nahian, Maisha, Rayhan, Jemim, and others that have been here, true and through.