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State of Singleton and Lunar New Year
Singleton (n) - Comp. Sc. def.
A class which only allows a single instance of itself to be created, and usually gives simple access to that instance.
Singleton, State of (n, compound) - Cap'n Intrepid def.
A state in life where you are constantly reminded of your singlehood, and subsequently pressured, teased, shoved, bullied, guilt-tripped or shanghaied into leaving this state and getting married. This state causes self-doubt, derision, alienation, humiliation and sometimes downright belligerence. This state also afflicts those who are romantically attached but with no definite plans of marriage.
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It's that time of the year again. This year, that statement takes on extra significance. For people who currently are in a state of singleton, Valentine's Day falls on the sixth day of the Lunar New Year. It's significance to Singletons is obvious when you consider the fact that after being publicly ridiculed by well-meaning but tactless relatives, one's entire system is again assailed by countless sightings of shameless couples snogging in lifts, buses, cinemas, malls, parks, beaches, gyms, swimming pools, beds, schools, cars, cabs, advertisements, on elevators, tv, newspapers, planes, trains, ships, bikes, fighter jets and what else have you. It's a topic that has been flogged (or blogged, as it were) year after year, but one that is insidious enough to resurrect itself with a tenacity even Count Dracula would admire.
An aunt you see once a year: Aiyoooohhhh! Boy boy gloaw so biigggg olreadi! (You've stopped growing since puberty 1/2 decade ago). Sooo hansome! Sure got a lot of za bor peng you (read: girl friend) hor? (Pinches your cheeks and tugs. Hard. And harder. Even Harder)
Singleton: No, no auntie. Only one. (Forcibly shoves mandarin oranges to her, so as to occupy her Weapons of Mass Destruction, or hands.)
Aunt: Sure or not? Dun shy shy lah! So yan dao (read: handsome) sure got a lot one. She work where one? How come neber come today? (Tries to pat your body all over, forgetting the oranges are in her hands.)
Singleton: Really lah, auntie! Only one. She's working in Bloomberg.
Aunt: Huh? Bluebird ah? What is that huh? Chicken lice is it huh?
Singleton: No no. Bloomberg. It's a financial news company that specializes in terminals that... (blank, glazed look from aunt) Ya lah auntie! You so smart! She sells chicken rice! I brought some for you. It's in the kitchen... come come!
Aunt: When will you bai xi jiu (read: hold wedding banquet) ah? Your glrandmarther wants a glreatglandson you know! Ha ha ha ha ha! (Slaps you on the back in an attempt to get orange squash over your new and expensive Armani tee).
Singleton: No lah! Ha ha! Not yet not yet. I'm still too young really. Only 23 you know?
Aunt: Twenny tree?! (Utter and total shock.) Last time ah, I olreadi have two chilren at twenny tree you know? Twenny tree is not young! Old olreadi! When your son is twenny tree, you will be sixxy years old!
Singleton: No lah! Not sixty! 23 and 23 is only 46. Still young. Ha ha... (Feeble attempt to slink away. Fails)
Aunt: Forty six and sixxy four! All the same one! Boy, don't wait olreadi! Where is she? Bring her come here, I help you see! Ah, go, go. Go and call your za bor peng you. Auntie help you check her buttocks. See if she can give you sons.
Singleton: (cough cough cough) No need auntie. Thank you but really, no need. She's at her own grandma's place. She's not free today.
Aunt: (crestfallen at missing a chance to perform a hip inspection) Like dat ah. Ok lor. Nebermind. Next year huh. Must lemember ah! I dun wan to keep giving you ang bao (read: red packet) every year!
Singleton: Urrrr... Hey! See! Isn't that cousin XXX? He's 28 and still single!
Aunt: Twenny ate?! How come like dat?
... and off she goes to disturb another singleton cousin, who'll likely sever all ties with you for doing him/ her the good deed.
I believe all Chinese will have experienced at least one such incident or its variant, regardless of age, gender or social class. If anything, this proves that Chinese values are intricately founded on fertility and the ever annoying concept of "go forth and multiply!". Nothing is said of love. Don't believe me? Try telling your relatives that you deeply love a woman but have no plans to get married yet. They'll give you weird looks and mutter "xiao liao" (read: gone crazy). Mention that you're getting married to a woman you've known for three days, and they will immediately demand to check her hips, or stomach, in case you've already gone forth and multiplied.
Let's also not forget the pressure that arrives in the form of a red letter, an invitation to a peer's wedding banquet. While it is definitely more silent, its shock factor is definitely comparable to Harry Potter's screaming letters. It snidely informs you that one more of your comrades in singleton state has fallen and is going to tie the knot. It is invariably followed up with wedding photos, pregancy photos, baby photos, family photos and countless replays of sappy romantic songs. It is the precursor of an exclusive club of which membership is out of bounds to you unless you, heaven forbid, follow in their shoes.
What to do? On one hand, the life of the eternal bachelorhood beckons you with its promises of freedom- both financial, emotional and psychological. On the other, pressure is all around you, in the form of peers, family members, relatives, and the government (who is willing to adopt a five day work week in exchange for 2.1 babies per university educated family, thank you very much). One party will scoff at marital bliss and inform you that it's not all it's cracked up to be. Another party will scoff at bachelorhood and ask you to name one thing that beats their little bundle of joy. Bummer.
In times like this, it's best to retreat to your own fortress of solitude, and examine your own feelings on the subject (Guys do that too, so you can wipe that smirk off your smug face). Don't rush into anything simply because you're provoked by relatives and friends. It's not fair to the other party, and to yourself. So what if your aunts and uncles prod you and tell you your sperm count is dwindling? So what if your red packet money shrinks year after year in an oh-so-subtle hint? So what if another screamer in your mail box makes you want to go apeshit and run down Orchard Road kicking all puppies in sight? We'll endure everything for our one true love right? Right?
I can't hear you. Right??
With that, I face the daunting task of meeting pinching aunts again. Valentine's? That's another tale for another time...
A class which only allows a single instance of itself to be created, and usually gives simple access to that instance.
Singleton, State of (n, compound) - Cap'n Intrepid def.
A state in life where you are constantly reminded of your singlehood, and subsequently pressured, teased, shoved, bullied, guilt-tripped or shanghaied into leaving this state and getting married. This state causes self-doubt, derision, alienation, humiliation and sometimes downright belligerence. This state also afflicts those who are romantically attached but with no definite plans of marriage.
----------------
It's that time of the year again. This year, that statement takes on extra significance. For people who currently are in a state of singleton, Valentine's Day falls on the sixth day of the Lunar New Year. It's significance to Singletons is obvious when you consider the fact that after being publicly ridiculed by well-meaning but tactless relatives, one's entire system is again assailed by countless sightings of shameless couples snogging in lifts, buses, cinemas, malls, parks, beaches, gyms, swimming pools, beds, schools, cars, cabs, advertisements, on elevators, tv, newspapers, planes, trains, ships, bikes, fighter jets and what else have you. It's a topic that has been flogged (or blogged, as it were) year after year, but one that is insidious enough to resurrect itself with a tenacity even Count Dracula would admire.
Lunar New Year Day 1
An aunt you see once a year: Aiyoooohhhh! Boy boy gloaw so biigggg olreadi! (You've stopped growing since puberty 1/2 decade ago). Sooo hansome! Sure got a lot of za bor peng you (read: girl friend) hor? (Pinches your cheeks and tugs. Hard. And harder. Even Harder)
Singleton: No, no auntie. Only one. (Forcibly shoves mandarin oranges to her, so as to occupy her Weapons of Mass Destruction, or hands.)
Aunt: Sure or not? Dun shy shy lah! So yan dao (read: handsome) sure got a lot one. She work where one? How come neber come today? (Tries to pat your body all over, forgetting the oranges are in her hands.)
Singleton: Really lah, auntie! Only one. She's working in Bloomberg.
Aunt: Huh? Bluebird ah? What is that huh? Chicken lice is it huh?
Singleton: No no. Bloomberg. It's a financial news company that specializes in terminals that... (blank, glazed look from aunt) Ya lah auntie! You so smart! She sells chicken rice! I brought some for you. It's in the kitchen... come come!
Aunt: When will you bai xi jiu (read: hold wedding banquet) ah? Your glrandmarther wants a glreatglandson you know! Ha ha ha ha ha! (Slaps you on the back in an attempt to get orange squash over your new and expensive Armani tee).
Singleton: No lah! Ha ha! Not yet not yet. I'm still too young really. Only 23 you know?
Aunt: Twenny tree?! (Utter and total shock.) Last time ah, I olreadi have two chilren at twenny tree you know? Twenny tree is not young! Old olreadi! When your son is twenny tree, you will be sixxy years old!
Singleton: No lah! Not sixty! 23 and 23 is only 46. Still young. Ha ha... (Feeble attempt to slink away. Fails)
Aunt: Forty six and sixxy four! All the same one! Boy, don't wait olreadi! Where is she? Bring her come here, I help you see! Ah, go, go. Go and call your za bor peng you. Auntie help you check her buttocks. See if she can give you sons.
Singleton: (cough cough cough) No need auntie. Thank you but really, no need. She's at her own grandma's place. She's not free today.
Aunt: (crestfallen at missing a chance to perform a hip inspection) Like dat ah. Ok lor. Nebermind. Next year huh. Must lemember ah! I dun wan to keep giving you ang bao (read: red packet) every year!
Singleton: Urrrr... Hey! See! Isn't that cousin XXX? He's 28 and still single!
Aunt: Twenny ate?! How come like dat?
... and off she goes to disturb another singleton cousin, who'll likely sever all ties with you for doing him/ her the good deed.
I believe all Chinese will have experienced at least one such incident or its variant, regardless of age, gender or social class. If anything, this proves that Chinese values are intricately founded on fertility and the ever annoying concept of "go forth and multiply!". Nothing is said of love. Don't believe me? Try telling your relatives that you deeply love a woman but have no plans to get married yet. They'll give you weird looks and mutter "xiao liao" (read: gone crazy). Mention that you're getting married to a woman you've known for three days, and they will immediately demand to check her hips, or stomach, in case you've already gone forth and multiplied.
Let's also not forget the pressure that arrives in the form of a red letter, an invitation to a peer's wedding banquet. While it is definitely more silent, its shock factor is definitely comparable to Harry Potter's screaming letters. It snidely informs you that one more of your comrades in singleton state has fallen and is going to tie the knot. It is invariably followed up with wedding photos, pregancy photos, baby photos, family photos and countless replays of sappy romantic songs. It is the precursor of an exclusive club of which membership is out of bounds to you unless you, heaven forbid, follow in their shoes.
What to do? On one hand, the life of the eternal bachelorhood beckons you with its promises of freedom- both financial, emotional and psychological. On the other, pressure is all around you, in the form of peers, family members, relatives, and the government (who is willing to adopt a five day work week in exchange for 2.1 babies per university educated family, thank you very much). One party will scoff at marital bliss and inform you that it's not all it's cracked up to be. Another party will scoff at bachelorhood and ask you to name one thing that beats their little bundle of joy. Bummer.
In times like this, it's best to retreat to your own fortress of solitude, and examine your own feelings on the subject (Guys do that too, so you can wipe that smirk off your smug face). Don't rush into anything simply because you're provoked by relatives and friends. It's not fair to the other party, and to yourself. So what if your aunts and uncles prod you and tell you your sperm count is dwindling? So what if your red packet money shrinks year after year in an oh-so-subtle hint? So what if another screamer in your mail box makes you want to go apeshit and run down Orchard Road kicking all puppies in sight? We'll endure everything for our one true love right? Right?
I can't hear you. Right??
With that, I face the daunting task of meeting pinching aunts again. Valentine's? That's another tale for another time...
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