JAN 16 — My cousins, siblings and I used to stay up waiting for 12am on the eve of Chinese New Year.

We would “kiong hee” (greeting with our hands clasped, and fingers intertwined) our way to richness by collecting one “ang pau” (red packet) after another. The more adults we found, the richer we got. Since we have a Singaporean uncle, we rushed over to him first fearing he might run out of “big” “ang paus” to give away.

Or so we thought.

Though the adults tried to get us to sleep early and collect the “ang paus” in the morning-we did what we do best. We irritated them until they said yes. They tried turning in early but then gave up because of the incessant knocking on their bedroom doors.

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We slept only after “keong hee-ing” each and every single adult we could find.

And in the morning, we got up early and put on new clothes. Red was the theme. It didn’t matter whether these were sarongs or selendangs, we would then sit at the dining table looking at the meal laid out before us.

“Kiam chai” soup, “jiu-hu cha”, chicken floss, roasted chicken strips, mini rolls, “ketupat” and even “rendang” were part of the menu.

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Back then, when my grandparents were alive, we even got the lion to dance on our front porch. The adults would hang an “ang pau” on the ceiling for the ‘lions’ to catch.

Our Hari Raya? Well, just change the “ang pau” to “qing pau”, and lion dance to prayers. Unlike Chinese New Year, we were less strict with the colour theme for the day. The people, food however remained the same.

I never forgot those moments, even as we all grew up, worked, and are now scattered across the globe.

We were, and still are, Malaysians first, and everything else an inconsequential second. And no, being Malaysian first does not make us any less Malay, Chinese etc.

As we approach this year’s Chinese New Year, I wonder whether there is a safe haven for those who call themselves Malaysians. People who celebrate diversity, and see past skin colours in a country that is more and more polarised, divided and fractured over racial and religious differences.

It is sad really when you think about it. How we have lived among each other for so long, and yet are ignorant of those around us. I can name so many friends whose Malay is worse than the Bangladeshis, Pakistanis and Nepalis living in the country.

Similarly ignorant are those who give others white packets for Chinese New Year, or serve beef to a Hindu. We may live near each other but we cannot be further apart vis a vis racial relationships and integration.

Tun Mahathir Mohamad, in outlining the challenges we must face to achieve vision 2020, placed the creation of a united Malaysian nation made up of one Bangsa Malaysia as our first challenge.

He must have realised how much we need that in order to progress and develop as a nation. But today, we are even further from this goal than some 23 years ago.

In this 2014, and in the spirit of the coming Chinese New Year, we should all vow to preserve the Malaysian way of life.

The way of life that promotes respect, tolerance, and celebration of each other’s differences, not one that antagonises, suspects and oppresses one another. The way of life where its citizens learn and help each other to stand equally tall, speak equally loud and strive equally hard to realize their dreams.

I don’t think we will be a Bangsa Malaysia by 2020. But we should at the very least learn to get along.