Upgrading
Upgrading
Give me more rooms, floor space, floors, dropped ceilings, cornices, extra bathroom, a toilet big enough for a jacuzzi.
I want a kitchen I can fit an island in, stainless steel German cooker hoods, state-of-the-art induction-heated hobs even if I never use them.
Give me wall-to-wall parquet tiles, roman blinds, more curtains than I’ll ever open, so many square feet I won't have to knock down a wall to make the place seem bigger. It IS bigger.
I want a bedroom so capacious I can park a Jaguar in it.
Two Jaguars. I want it large enough to be a local oddity, a tourist attraction, the subject of awe and envy, a heritage site.
So huge, developers will knock on my heavy door, asking to turn my land into condos for profit, and I will gleefully refuse.
I want it so generous friends would drive by and ask to drop off their dogs for exercise runs.
I want a pad so massive I can go jogging in it and not get bored with the view, so vast I can't see my neighbours without binoculars, so tall I scan continents with my naked eye.
Of course a swimming pool. Make it Olympic-sized, lake-sized, a body of clean water visible from space, one my father can go fishing in any time he likes, a private indoor beach, like the one in Miyazaki with man-made waves, 2.5 metres high all year round.
Give me an estate so huge it'll be its own GRC. Heck, it'll have its own Parliament, a standing army, a separate time zone, the clocks always set to 6pm on Sunday, the skies forever on the brink of twilight.
While we're at it, give me property with its own climate, the air tuned to a cool 23 degrees C, the clouds broadcasting jazz instead of rain.
And how about a mountain or two in the living room, each topped with ancient pines like overgrown bonsai. My own moon, that I can switch on or off with a flick of the wrist. A sun with a built-in dimmer. Stars to deck my Christmas forest with.
None of us will survive this anyway, says the flower, says the ant, whose abode is larger than any of ours.
Already, in my modest habitat, I hear my body's ceaseless retrofitting, a lifetime of work before Death moves in.
So when I go to sleep, I'd like a bed of snow, warmed to the temperature of life.
I'd like a blanket of earth drawn over my aching shoulders, the sound of the sea nudging at my window, but otherwise, perfect quiet across the acres and acres.
The above poem titled "Upgrading" is written by Alvin Pang. The persona of the narrator is a Singaporean who is discontented with life in many levels. The complaints in the poem is identifiable to the typical pursuit of Singaporeans. Despite being a first world nation, there are discontentment in many levels, such as materialistic, egoistic, cultural and philosophical.
For discontentment in the materialistic level. In a recent article by business insider Singapore Jul 13 2015: "Qatar, Luxembourg and Singapore: On top of sharing the particularity of being some of the smallest countries in the world, they are also the three richest countries in the world, according to an analysis by the Global Finance Magazine."
The pursuit of "more rooms, floor space, floors" is instatiable by itself yet it is coupled with impractical and inefficient usage of the acquired space such as wanting "a bedroom so capacious I can park a Jaguar in it." and having "state-of-the-art induction-heated hobs even if I never use them." It is the mindless aquiring of property that makes the pursuit hollow and superficial. When I was much younger, a popular observational joke about the materialism of Singaporeans is the pursuit of the 5 Cs, namely: cash, credit card, condominium, car and country club membership. A reseach in 2011 showed that Singaporean girls are quite materialistic, though it is not totally reflective of every woman in Singapore.
Secondly, there is discontentment in the egoistic level - a self entitlement in the mindsets of Singaporeans nowadays. This could be due to Singapore's quck success in the short few decades.
Quoted from Straits Times article "Singaporeans have misplaced sense of entitlement, says SICC head Victor Mills": "I know of an industrial fragrance company which invested $25 million in Singapore. But they could not get a Singaporean to do the job. No matter what they paid, there were no takers because there was no direct bus or train. Also, nobody could tahan (Malay for tolerate) the smell at the plant.I think all this is very disappointing. This was not the case 30 years ago. People then were very hungry for a job, and so they were willing to work. And worked hard.So all this suggests that people have a misplaced sense of entitlement, but not necessarily retained a sense of responsibility.Instead of a two-way street, the employer has to do all the walking. Some employees are not prepared to even meet their employers halfway.It's only because we are so successful that we have a prevalence of these attitudes. People are no longer hungry enough."
Lastly, in the philosophical level, I believe that the author meant for Singaporeans to see past the superficial and upgrade themselves in their mentalities to be focused at the end of the road and not what they find along the road. "None of us will survive this anyway, says the flower, says the ant, whose abode is larger than any of ours.Already, in my modest habitat, I hear my body's ceaseless retrofitting, a lifetime of work before. "
At the end of the day, we need to make peace with the notion of returning back to earth, which we will "inherit" when we are buried inside it. "Death moves in.So when I go to sleep, I'd like a bed of snow, warmed to the temperature of life. I'd like a blanket of earth drawn over my aching shoulders, the sound of the sea nudging at my window, but otherwise, perfect quiet across the acres and acres."
