Full Moon

The place was noisy. I could hardly hear my own thoughts. Although, what suppressed my inner thoughts was not the noise, it was the freedom bustling at the place. The excitement emanating from people about to fly to places all over the world was magnetic in attracting my imagination aloft. My senses were stretched thin by the captivating atmosphere of freedom. But as high as my mind was from the ground, the softest of whisper of "Baba, I want to go pee-pee" from my six-years-old boy would shut out noises of all kinds, and pull me back into my world.

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There is no place that would plunge you deeper into thoughts about the insignificance of life than 30,000 feet above ground, when the continuity of it was dangled finely in balance by the laws of physics.

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Two hours later, after countless thoughts had gone in and out of my head, when I could care less about the applicability of the laws of physics, I was no closer to the meaning of life. Though I couldn’t feel more of it from my children’s eagerness to start their holidays outside the gates.

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It couldn't get more “lost” than this - surrounded by hundreds of people, each with a different tone of skin colors ranging from fair to dark, eyes of black to eyes of green, blond hair to black hair; incomprehensible words spoken with foreign accents filled the hollows of the place. The one clear direction I had was the one provided by the little hands I was holding leading towards the awaiting family reunion.

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Endearing smiles, familiar laughter, children’s yelling, children’s hugs, pats on the back, tears even, at once we were enclosed within a sphere of affection, oblivious to all foreignness around us. For the first time, instead of our hometown, we decided to reunite our families that scattered around three countries at one to celebrate Chinese New Year. Due to timing, distance and costs of traveling, we had not had such a complete reunion for a long, long time; too long, perhaps. The moon was full again.

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However strong condemnation, anger, resentment, disappointment, frustration and misery think they were, they stood no chance against the wheel of times and the undying love of a mother. A simple motherly request for a family photo was all that required to melt the last trace of iciness left by times of disagreement, argument, and confrontation.

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The best beach in the world could be 10 minutes away by car. For a bunch of 4-to-9-years-olds, the hotel's children pool as interesting as one found at the local public pool would beat the finest sand and the bluest sea anytime.

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A meal is when one or more people consume one or more dishes of food on a table. When the people gathered around the table are bonded by family tie, on the eve of Chinese New Year, the meal bears the significance of a reunion dinner. The food on the table could taste as badly as my cooking and it would not have mattered. With lobster, abalone, and oyster, there should not be any discontent, but we wouldn't know when we had chicken, prawn, fish and tom yam kung for our reunion dinner. Luckily for us, the quality of the food elicited no complaints, and was enhanced with talks of fond memories and hearty laughter.

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When the kids were able to receive ang-paus in currencies from Malaysia, Singapore and Thailand in the first morning of a new Chinese lunar year, a family reunion at anywhere in the world was an experience to be cherished.

Oh, when the kids yelled in excitement that they got a 300 dollars ang-pau, it was time to explain the working of currency exchange – between Bahts and Ringgit, and Singapore Dollars.

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When farewell could draw tears from as young as a 4-years old, it’s a relief the children were still excited to be going home after an enjoyable and tiring few days.

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That was, indeed, a memorable Chinese New Year to be treasured in our family book.

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