Large gatherings and small talk – I used to think they were superficial but I now see how they keep us close
Large family gatherings once felt shallow to this writer, who thought real connection required an extended amount of time together and frequent deep conversations. Now, she sees how small talk, shared food, and simply showing up can keep loved ones close in a time-starved society.
Large gatherings of family and friends allow people to connect in different ways. (Photo: iStock/Candy Retriever)
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The evening is cosy. People are chatting and wandering around different groups, leaning in to listen. The earthy smell of home-cooked food blends with the room’s fresh scent. Peals of laughter break out occasionally.
I am at a friend’s birthday party that I helped organise, and everyone is dressed as their favourite book character, albeit with a local or regional twist. The costumes are an homage to the celebrant’s love for local literature.
As I take everyone in – close friends, acquaintances and strangers-turned-friends – I feel a rush of gratitude for being surrounded by so many people.
That is not a sentence my pre-teen self would ever have imagined writing. Despite always having been a huge extrovert, I used to dread large gatherings with friends and family, because I struggled to see their purpose.
Growing up with a mother who has nine siblings and a father who has three, my childhood was filled with such meetups. There were month-long Hari Raya visits after Ramadan, birthday celebrations, weddings, chalet trips, and year-end barbecues.
I remember times when I simply wasn’t in the mood to attend. As others engaged in small talk about the weather, school, work or what they had eaten, I would chat around while secretly counting down the minutes until we could finally leave. As a child, coming together in such a big group felt shallow. There were too many people for anyone to have a proper conversation.
Looking back, I was likely expecting large gatherings to do something they were never meant to do.
Even though smaller meetups have their own merit, during a time when everyone seems busier and more time-starved than ever, I’ve come to appreciate large gatherings a lot more deeply.
MORE THAN JUST SMALL TALK
I used to think that connecting with someone meant needing an extensive amount of time to be vulnerable, bare my soul, and talk about life purpose, local politics, climate change, morality, regrets and mistakes. These weren’t something large gatherings excelled at.
It didn’t occur to me until much later that the very lightness I thought made them superficial was exactly what made them work.
These were never meant to create deep intimacy, but to offer enough warmth, ease and familiarity for people to approach one another in the first place.
I started noticing this in my late teens at Hari Raya celebrations, where I’d meet cousins I hadn’t seen in months or even years. And again, at recent weddings when I’d finally catch up with junior college friends whose lives I had only followed through the occasional Instagram Story, or learn more about cultures and customs beyond me.
Even if we would speak for five or ten minutes, those conversations mattered because, despite the brevity, they kept the relationship alive.
They make it easier for distant relatives to reconnect, for acquaintances to become friends, for strangers to find something in common, and for people who would never have approached one another in a room of five to comfortably do so in a room of 50.
And then there is small talk.
Before, it felt like the least meaningful part of any get-together. I’ve since come to see it as one of the most underrated.
Talking about the weather, someone’s new job, the food on the table or whose child has suddenly grown taller may not reveal our views on morality or the meaning of life. But those conversations keep things easy, take away some of the heaviness many of us already carry, and make people feel welcome and more likely to belong.
WHAT MAKES GATHERINGS MEMORABLE
I also came to realise that simply putting many people in the same room wasn’t enough. Perhaps, with the right ones, it is. But the get-togethers that stick in my memory usually come with more purpose.
In her book The Art Of Gathering, facilitator Priya Parker explores this. She argues that memorable get-togethers thrive when they have a clear purpose beyond the occasion itself. People may come because it’s a birthday or a wedding, but what they remember are the interactions and activities.
That birthday party I helped organise wasn’t just to celebrate a birthday. Everyone dressed up, allowing complete strangers to find something to ask each other. Friends who hadn’t met in ages were comparing costumes, recommending books and laughing over obscure literary references.
Two friends also shared similar experiences.
Hajar Amir sees something similar in her own extended family. Because relatives span different generations and interests, the 36-year-old research administrator and her cousins organise games during Hari Raya and family holidays, from best-dressed themes to quizzes.
Not only do the games fill in the time, they also make everyone – from children to teenagers to grandparents – feel like they’re involved instead of being passive attendees.
Another friend, Vanessa Poh, took a similar approach when planning her wedding. Besides the usual programme, the 29-year-old airport manager included quizzes about the couple and the people who brought them together, interactive writing stations, and even a live song request segment where guests could ask the band to perform almost any song as a Chinese rendition.
There may not be any groundbreaking revelations of our deepest secrets, but the creative spins help people interact more, despite the limited time spent together.
CONNECTING IN A TIME-STARVED SOCIETY
In 2024, my cousin died in a road accident. He was a year my junior and we grew up fighting over Pokemon games, learning how to cycle and, eventually, navigating corporate work life. That same year, I lost my teacher, whom I kept telling myself I’d see again sooner or later. Six years before that, a close friend passed away just months before his planned wedding.
Those losses are among the many that remind me just how fragile and fleeting time with the people we love really is.
As the years pass, my elders have grown older. Aunties and uncles who once hosted entire days of visiting now move more slowly. Sometimes, they need a few nudges before they remember certain incidents. The cousins I obsessed over Harry Potter and boy bands with are now working adults, spouses, parents, or people whose calendars require a month’s notice just to meet for dinner.
Many of us now spend a significant part of our lives working, commuting, caring for children and parents, running errands and trying to maintain some version of ourselves outside our responsibilities. Some friends have started new lives overseas. Some are no longer around.
We live in a time-starved society – and that is why I think large gatherings matter more now than they ever have.
I get to notice who has grown taller, whose hair has started turning grey, who has become a new parent, who is planning their next holiday, who still tells the same terrible jokes.
With so many people I love, I cannot realistically wait for everyone to be free for one-on-one catch-ups. If connection depended on long, uninterrupted conversations with every person I cared about, I wouldn’t even make it through the year.
These gatherings do not always allow us to go deep with everyone, but they allow us to remain within reach of one another. For a long time, I saw these glimpses as shallow. Now, I see them as one of the ways we keep each other close.
Source: CNA/iz
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