Soja by Lisa Lim

The few minutes we spend
when we soja our parents
first thing on the first day
of Chinese New Year
I have grown to find so precious.
I lower myself
and look up to them,
as I would have done
all the years as a child,
face on with each in turn,
and looking in their eyes
in a way I don’t do
every day.

Then all the hubbub around us,
the chatter and excitement
of other family members,
the messing about of the children,
and the wielding
of cameras and smartphones
to capture the moment
a few times over –
All that seems to fade out
for a few seconds,
and in that bubble
I wish them
and they me.

Happy new year
Keong hee huat chye
Panjang-panjang umor
Badan kuat-kuat
Study hard >
Find a good job >
Get married soon >
Have a baby –

Though in their sagacity and sensitivity
they never ever nagged me about these.

In those moments we pause
midst the frenzy of the festivities,
we take a breath to reflect on
what we feel and say,
we reconnect not only
via huge meals
or gossip of relatives
or organised activities
but intimately,
primitively,
as parent
and offspring.

I lower myself
and I look up to them,
nothing between
but the holding of hands.

My son
half Peranakan
is fully schooled
and thoroughly committed.
We live afar
but aim to keep close
traditions that remind us
of who we are.
His repertoire reflects
our diverse experiences
our global relationships
our mobile times.

Happy new year
Kung hei fatt choy
Gōng xǐ fà cái
Panjang-panjang umor

Still in the adolescence
of discovering his roots
building his identity
one phrase
one soja
at a time.