back to basics

I don't know about you but I think the act of being buried and visited on every year seems rather tiring. It's not about filial, just the practicality of it. How many generations would want/be willing to visit your grave until someone asks, "actually, who is this again?"

Tradition is important (in some sense) but think of all the land used, time spent and effort taken to maintain this ritual. My father still visits his grandfather's (that'll be my great grandfather) but didn't impose on his children (that'll be my sister and yours truly) to continue. Of course, it did help that we are females; the one time that the fairer gender card plays to my advantage.

But to all my dead ancestors, this is by no means an invitation for you to come visit me instead while I am still alive.

After the annual ritual, we decided to have breakfast but made a pit stop here for a look back into how things were made before machines took over.

My late grandmother used to run a sundry shop and had these aluminium scoops to scoop out rice. That's a coffee/tea pot.

Back in those days when electricity is scarce, you use oil lamps. Or when TNB did a really sucky job and that happened rather frequently in Ipoh.

More aluminium ware. None of that bright, colorful plastic nonsense that lose shape with heat and time. These can serve at least two purposes; one its intended, the other to hit someone without exerting much force from a distance. Childhood memories beckon me.

El cheapo economical BBQ pit.

While they aren't as attractive as your Ikea wares, the quality pretty much makes up for it. Too bad we live in a generation of aesthetically pleasing and who cares about quality.