I dont tuan (团 ;团员)

For majority of the Chinese population, Chinese New Year is a joyous occasion to celebrate. I secretly dislike it though. Apart from the goodies, all I look forward to is just the idea of having everyone sit together for a meal. Shouldn’t that be the main point actually?
I fret the 21st century is too complexed for my mind to register – spring cleaning is quite a chore, and it’s enough to burden everyone with a bad mood at the end of the day, atop the exhaustion. Parents keep it simple is that. The younger generation bears the mental erosion. Since young, my parents have always emphasised on living harmoniously. Love one another in the family. It is sad to say that you can barely see that happening in my mother,and father’s family. It is especially obvious during the Lunar New Year. Everytime we want to spend more time with relatives, my parents would be one of the first to say they want to leave early, retire for the night. And every year, by the time we head to our grandma’s for dinner, the other relatives would have finished their meal, or it would be about time to leave. Albeit the awkward silences for the lack of common topic (nobody’s to be blamed for that,really. It just happens.), but i would think it is fine. Why can’t we grow comfortable to the awkward pauses we’re used to? They claim that it’s a long day. We stop inviting our distant relatives over. We cut contact with them. And the greater family drifts apart, we keep our secrets at home. And the word family seems so tight-knitted, limited to our immediate relationship: father, mother, brother, sister. “Don’t say so much”/”Don’t say the wrong things”/”Never even help”/”Sty”/”Useless”/”Bums”
From a young age, this was how we were raised. Every lunar new year that passes seems to be a great facade we’re obligated to perform in, soaking in the atmosphere for the sake of it, living to the ideals of a Chinese family. But it seems that spring cleaning uncovers all the flaws, leave the grounds bare and vulnerable and brings us (me, myself and i) closer to six feet under. Maybe that’s the only safe that secrets can belong in.


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