The relativity of festivity
It is Chinese New Year's eve at the time of my writing this. The park where I am currently taking my daily reflection walk is deserted; the next two days are public holidays, and the way they fall this week means that not only is the Chinese Malaysian population at home celebrating, but the Malay and Indian Malaysians are likely on leave for the whole week as well. I am ethnically Malay, so I don't celebrate the Lunar New Year (which explains why I am out right now).
One fun fact for you: Malaysia is considered one of the countries in the world with the most observed public holidays nationally, being in the top 10 in most lists you can find by googling (the fluctuations are due to changing national decisions over the years or different sources from which these lists were generated). This is primarily because we are a multi-ethnic society, combining holidays from more than 3 major cultures and traditions and religious beliefs. This makes for a fun time to look forward to every year if you are employed or if you're a school student, but the individual festivities can feel empty on their respective days if you barely celebrate any of them.
You see, I grew up Muslim, so the idea of 'festive seasons' for me was just Eid. There were so many family and cultural traditions we observed around Ramadan and Eid (ul-Fitr). When I was about 10, I used to wonder how sad it was for the non-Muslim friends of mine who stayed at home doing nothing (oh how presumptuous!) whilst my family and I were having the time of our lives. It never dawned on me (until later in life of course) that I was the bored one on non-Muslim public holidays, as we were poor, so public holidays meant staying home (because dad couldn't afford any trip).
Then years passed. Then more than a decade have passed in my life since I turned adult. I began to realize that my festivities were slowly greying out, turning as colorless as the other public holidays in Malaysia I personally don't culturally or religiously observe. And over time, people I love passed. Dad passed away (too soon). Both of my grandmas passed away too (and changed the dynamics of both sides of my family for good). Then my uncle died. Then my grandpas on both sides. Then a friend; then another friend.
And without realizing, festive seasons are now nothing but days I can catch up on house chores or my cafe-to-check-out-on-my-off-day list.
Now, at the time of writing this on my phone's notes app, I wonder if a Chinese girl sitting in the backseat of her family's car, on the way to their grandparent's place for a Chinese New Year eve family dinner, wonders the same about the relativity of festivities as she sees me, a lone man in his thirties, walking pensively along a secluded, deserted lake in a tiny community park in a Subang Jaya enclave as the sun sets.