Dining table never lies

I just loved this piece. :) Written by a friend, so i thought i'd share it. i put it up once in a blog owned 4 years back. so as a tribute to the few articles i shared, here's one to kick off my new blog. do enjoy the read.



DINING TABLES NEVER LIES

Our migration into Kuala Lumpur started as turning a fresh page in a book, but it soon progressed so rapidly, we literally opened a whole new book. The days we were spending together at our dining table for breakfast together became too strenuous, as we were afraid that one second late would bury us deep into heavy traffic on our way to the office. We soon exclaim it to be more convenient to buy curry-puffs at the foot of our office buildings and eat between busy phone calls with clients, contractors and suppliers.

Micro evolution of identity actually starts at home, as simple as deciding what to have for breakfast and recap encounters we had that day as we have our dinner. I firmly believe the food that our devoted mothers stir on her kitchens sets to determine our inner self identity. Regardless of our personal backgrounds, we regard our family community as something of our own charm and a stamped property.

If we were to compare what simple mothers prepare for the family in the rural areas with the urban’s, bold enough is the amount of attention given. What is a ritual and affectionate routine to some has become a commotion to the others. The end user of this simple task will go out to contribute to the society at large, and eventually shaping the nation. If architecture is about making human being comfortable and supportive of their milieus, then mummy’s breakfast, lunch, dinner and supper is the root of it all.

The big question is the depleting role of mothers in this fast urban life has significantly evolving, supplementing on our physical operations everywhere in the world. From the nasi-lemak-and-hot-tea to the Kellogs-Cornflakes-and-milk, we embrace ourselves, step outside the house and try to make a decent living.

The evolution of activities and demands makes urban mothers relatively busy, synonymous to an urban culture. The passion to feed healthy food becomes redundant; mothers opt for professional mamak stalls for help. We too, engaged and submit ourselves to the abundance of non-maternal victuals. This sole reliance, apart from distributing unnecessary familial wealth to strangers, is also ubiquitous. Slowly, the values of personal identity are lost in the demand of culminating monetary wealth.

Prototyped families, colonised in time are everyday losing a battle in sustaining their identity. As the urban life is all about pursuit, ‘instant mothers’ from international chains took over the routine of eating. This, in a general picture, makes mothers negligible, fathers financially-fragile and children spoilt, for choices, health, and the trademark the family holds. There is no more special dumplings, or mum’s hot chicken curry when everything you consume in the food courts are superficial and plain tasteless.

Food industry, no longer exclusive to our mothers, is now a gigantic and impersonal entertainment to the manufacturers as they continue to colonise our taste buds. How do we count our personality to differ from the family next door if the food we are now consuming consists of smaller modules of BigMacs, Cokes, Haagen Dazs and Starbuck’s fresh-brewed coffee? Our taste buds are now so globalised, we will get the same tang everywhere, even in remote towns. Are we no longer craving for the extra spicy sambal petai, and succulently sweet bubur kacang?

Even all attributes such as the provision of hypermarkets, one of the symbols of urban life, ease the needs to feed the family; we still awe ourselves at losing grip of our distinctiveness. This is an extremely important feature of the way we perceive this small chapter of ‘ourselves’, making the evolution of personal identity a remarkable feat to sustain. By contrast, this is a parallel with the issues of urbanisation, making our every sensible worth intangible.

If time is considered as an invaluable treasure, it may be honest to some, to sacrifice mum’s dinner so more time could be spent to fine-tune the multi-million dollar project proposal. This subjective anticipation will never drown the perception of domestic business is just too consuming. If architecture for human anticipates economy, surrounding and social matters, then a mother’s roles (as a catalyst for familial integrity), regardless our geographical location; in shaping the better part of us is more relevant than ever. What is therefore more appropriate to generate domestic economy to improve our environment and moral values as an identity to boast with pride? Are we not the least bothered with the fact that our mothers are on every corners of the city? We do claim that we are two very different people, are we not?

Yes, urban life makes us too hectic to entertain our basic needs, more importantly, too wretched to spend quality time with our family. Urbanisation has indeed imposes an impact, be it positive or otherwise, on every its inhabitants. What was once a simple task becomes a life threatening decision. The already complex human psyche is now struggling to fiddle with technology no longer applicable the next day they get off the bed. The fact is inevitably true but somehow, I wake everyday longing for that hot banana dumplings and extra thick coffee. Home-made, extra crispy and coffee seeds at the ring of my mug.


+ Don’t eat fish, they piss in the water (Jane Jones – Closer, 2005)

written by Syah.

-can't wait to read more of his scribbles..!