Value vs Price

Iced Milo costs RM1.50, you still buy it at stalls because you believe the value is acceptable. Nasi Lemak can cost up to RM15.00 in hotels, and since you know the value is usually around RM2.50 - RM5.00, you don't even think about having nasi lemak in hotels.

In the near future when my kid starts to get hooked on his bolster/soft toy, the price may be as high as RM19.90, but the value will be up to RM50 or RM100. This means that should we forget to bring along the toy on trips, the constant whining (maybe) or my kid's difficulty to sleep at night (maybe) would really affect us.

For some, a friend's mug (cup/glass) would cost only RM5.00, and it's of no value to us, but to that friend, the value is priceless, coz' it's given by a loved one, or a gift for winning something, or whatever else. Which brings us to the topic of how do we actually put value to an item.

An item, no matter how small or big that we spend a lot of time with, especially if memories are connected to it, brings the item to a very high value, or to sound better, brings us to really cherish that item. For me personally, there are certain things that I put high value to, like my wireless router,... kidding! Let's talk emotional values here, not price value. There are things that may be cheap but you really don't want to ever sell it should someone comes with 10 times the price. And there will be things whereby you don't need anymore, and never will, but you still keep, because of sentimental reasons.

A personal example would be my spectacles. Used for four years, about to throw it away the other day, and then I remember the 'unconditional service' or 'benefit' it's given me, being able to scout for pretty girls from far away, ok, not that, but the ability to really see well than just foggy and blurry images. This is how memory can significantly rise the value of the item.

I remembered reading a newspaper clipping some 4-5 years back. A helicopter crashed in Pahang I believed, and the pilots were rescued on that same day itself. The wife of one of the pilots was waiting at the rescue drop-zone and when the pilot was brought out of the helicopter, the first thing he said was "I'm sorry I lost our wedding ring". Value! This pilot, after a horrible ordeal, being injured, could realise that the wedding ring was gone from his finger during the crash. The example of how an item of love, or significant gift brings high value of an item.

Really put yourself into the next few paragraphs. You just got married and have bought a house. Few years later, you have your first child. Then many more children. Your family starts to create history and memories in the house. Painting of walls together, remembering your second child tumbled down the stairs when he was 2, planting a tree together, many family gatherings, children playing in the lawn, heck, even being robbed. Twenty five years down the road, that RM150k house would be say RM600k. Good money, your children are all grown up, you don't need that big house anymore, and you sell it. On the day you finally get a buyer, you will walk around the house, over and over again, practically 'seeing' your past, practically hearing your children holding a toy and saying "Daddy, look!". You see your wife in the kitchen smiling while cooking your favourite dish. You see your kid accidentally knocks the glass of juice off the table and it broke when it hit the floor, and your kid cries. Everything starts to come back.

The house is priceless, not RM600k. You know, the new owner will never love the house as you did. You know the owner is just buying the house to rent to others, an investment property, you are angry that there's no love to the house, but you cannot stop it. The last day you leave the house, you scratch at one wooden corner of the house, be it the ceiling near the roof, or some obscure place that you know paints will not reach for some time to come. And you write "Thank you for the all the memories you bestowed on our family. Love, your family." You take one last look at the house before you drive off. You step on the gas, you still glance at the house from the rear view mirror, once out of sight, you know it's no longer yours. No longer able to return the love you gave it. You smile, your cheeks are wet, vision starts to blur, you rub your eyes, and you sigh. Life goes on.

In memory of the little red 'comel' with the 'semut' that has served my wife and our family for the past 7 years. Always in mind and heart.