Three voices

I had a beautiful image of this. Somehow it got deleted. Picture this...three men arguing persistently on Malaysian affairs while sipping their teh tarik(s) and puffing away with lights.

The smell of cigarettes,
the butts to punctuate...
the three voices speaking for the world.

The anecdotes of life are unveiled in the most unlikely places. And somehow the most poignant stories and inflections of life are exchanged by the most insignificant men. As usual, though common sense is thought to prevail in the highest of places for the betterment of the 'weak', it is 'common' people who are most receptive to it.

Malaysia is oft-known for its tolerance and naivety in the face of rumours. It is not an exaggeration to conclude that many political forces have won and lost battles not through the highly esteemed ballot, but through the approval of coffee shop parliamentarians.

And the site of this daily meeting place is somehow not as sacred as this argument 'hallows' it. The sacred character of common discussion is veiled in the most egalitarian aesthetics. Some call it the kopitiam, for others it is the local mamak joint or merely the shed down the road.

For all its worth these speeches and conspiracy theories are celebrated with the most minimal trappings of high fashion. It is a powerful lesson to designers - in that the most sublime architecture can often miss the point of 'real' life. While designers shouldn't triumph on the laurels of mediocrity, sophistication does not always reside in memory.

It is something to pause and think about. What brings people back to their local kopitiam? Is it sheer necessity or familiarity? Are our old decrepit and sometimes purely 'practical' sheds a jumble of commodities united for the commerce of food and beverage? Are these places memorable?

Sometimes, what's important is not so much how one feels for places (that the relation between activity and emotion can simply be examined in a cause and effect manner), as much as what one actually feels.

Thus, perhaps what is useful to discover is how places feel - when there is a roof over one's head... or how the table looks and feels like when it hasn't been cleaned... or how the thin films of moisture glaze the tables albeit for a few seconds... or how the slight weight of elbows resting shift the legs of the table every few seconds.

And how trees might give too little, too much shade to places...and when torrential rains come to pass, how the iron roofs applaud in thunderous approval...and the new found breeze of fresh moist air is savoured in spaces in between the melancholy and provoking discussions across tables,on these small 'altars' of the world.

Yes, a coffee shop can always be a haunting recognition of the often forgotten world, beyond self, beyond just the unique image of 'architectural' presence.