Nightmares of zeros

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THERE was a time when I was about 11 years old, I had this recurring nightmare. I dreamed that I was being suffocated by a roomful of balloons. There were so many of them that I could not breathe and I would wake up in cold sweat. I sought solace in prayers. It took a while to calm me down and I was able to drift into the peaceful realm of sleep. The episode lasted for a few months and then, it disappeared as suddenly as it came.

For years I used to wonder what brought it about. Then some time ago, I met up with a university mate from England who is now a practising hypnotherapist. We had a long chat about old times. Then the issue of my childhood nightmare came up. He suggested we go through a regression therapy session. This is when one is guided through a mental journey into the past and hopefully, could uncover the source of one’s anxiety.

It appeared that during that troubled period I was suffering from Oudenophobia, (from Greek ouden, meaning ‘nothing’). In such cases, the sufferer’s initial fear is nothingness. They fear things that contain nothing in them, like looking in the container expecting that there’s something in it and when there is nothing there, the subject would become anxious and panicky. As zero represents nothingness, the number would often scare them.

The question was why would an 11-year-old kid be afraid of zeros? That was where the mental journey into the past provided the answer. Apparently it was the fault of my Primary 6 class teacher. He used to say: “If you don’t work hard, the only job you can get is to draw zeros”.

He would point to our school’s groundsman who was cutting grass outside. This was before the existence of motorised bush-cutter. Our groundsman used a scythe fastened to a long, stout stick which he swung round his head, describing a circle each time; hence the ‘drawing of zeros’.

Even at that tender age, I already had the dream of being a doctor, engineer, lawyer or a member of one of the recogniszed professions. I did not want to be a grass-cutter. I did not want to draw zeros. Hence zeros scared me. The nearest representation in my mind was balloons and the nightmare came.

That was half a century ago and in these years, sleep has been my comforting companion. However, I fear that Epiales, the spirit of nightmares, might come back to haunt me again. Of late, many a time our everyday conversation would centre on topics that concern abundance that seems to disappear into nothingness. And every time I turn on computer, I am confronted with words that contain many zeros – billions of them. So ubiquitous are these zeros that they challenge me mathematically, visually and ultimately philosophically.

Until these last few years, we seldom talk billions and thus, many of us do not quite know how many zeros are there in a billion. Well, in my quick research I found out that the traditional European billion has 12 zeros, representing one million million. However, the more toned-down and manageable American version that shows only nine zeros (one thousand million) is now the norm. Even so, it is a huge number.

While we are on numbers, interestingly together with the figure 2.6 billion that is being bandied around is another – 42 million. So confused and so unused are we with such huge sums that at first glance, 42 million looks more impressive than 2.6 billion. In reality, 42 million is just a tiny fraction of 2.6 million. In fact, it merely represents 1.6 per cent of the latter – comparatively a miniscule amount.

I have difficulty in visualising what RM2 billion look like. So I post a question to my friend Bob who fancies himself as a math whiz kid.

“How high is a stack of RM2 billion in RM50 notes?”

He nearly busted his calculator (and his brain) trying to work that out. Finally exhausted, he announced incredulously that it would be 4km high and that would be about eight times the height of the Petronas Twin Towers (the towers stand at 450m high).

How long would it take one to run down all that ginormous amount of money? According to my friend, the mathematician Bob, it would take a shade of 200 years – that is, if one were to blow away one million per month.

Now my mind really boggles. How true is that which has been written: “For who knows a person’s thoughts except the spirit of that person, which is in him?” (1 Corinthians 2:11)

With all the zeros and the question “did he or didn’t he?” floating about on the Internet, I am concerned that I might just snap and my childhood nightmare come back to haunt me.

Only this time it would be scarier. Instead of just balloons suffocating me, there will also be piles and piles of dollar notes, billions of them.

Arrrrrgh!