it used to mean a lot. but not any more. at least, not from the perspective of how it ought to.
don't get me wrong. i'm having a really good time being home with my family. i'm enjoying muar as much as i always do and being around my parents and siblings is so much fun this year, it's definitely already better than last year.
so i guess what i find meaningless about chinese new year is really the fact that it's a chinese thing. in the last five years, i've been gradually defining myself less and less as a chinese and i think i've passed a certain threshold. i've passed the threshold beyond which i find it hard to excite myself over anything that makes me special because of my racial heritage.
a few weeks back, i stumbled on an american website, and these women were bitching about oprah backing barrack obama for the democratic primaries. these women's anger was directed at oprah choosing to back the black candidate - and thereby playing her race card - rather than the woman candidate. of course, these women fail to realise that backing someone on account of their gender is really no more intelligent than backing someone because of their race. and in their anger, i guess they exposed their own shortcomings - that fundamentally, what they're really interested to back is just some superficial sense of familiarity. she's a girl. he's black. i'm chinese.
but my chineseness says very little about who i am now. i'm miles away from the guy who's miles away from being - if there's such a thing - a typical chinese person, bearing all the stereotypical chinese attributes. most of us think it's wrong to be racist but it's okay to be racial. today, i'm not so sure if i'm interested anymore to be a racial person. i'm not so sure anymore if it's okay to find racial discrimination repugnant but still find racial identification perfectly innocuous.
family? food? long nights talking? six days in the house i grew up in? all these i love. as for chinese new year itself? i guess i'm losing belief in it.