The lunch and the lesson

It was a Friday afternoon when the Plant Manager, Encik Rahman, decided to take a group of young engineers and junior staff for lunch at the canteen.

They had just finished a tough week—equipment breakdowns, last-minute management requests, and a mountain of reports to submit.

As soon as they sat down, the conversation began.

Some complained about their bosses.

Some sighed about the never-ending workload.

Others compared salaries, promotions, and the “better opportunities” they thought they were missing.

Encik Rahman listened quietly while sipping his teh tarik.

A few minutes later, the waiter brought out a tray of mismatched plates and bowls—some shiny and new, some chipped and old.

The food was the same for everyone, but the plates were different.

The young engineers instinctively reached for the clean, glossy plates.

None touched the scratched, faded ones.

Encik Rahman smiled.

“Notice something?” he asked.

“You all reached for the nicest plates, just like most people would. But you came here for the food, not the plate. The plate only holds the meal—it doesn’t change the taste.”

He paused, letting the words settle.

“In our careers, the ‘plate’ is your title, your office size, your car, your salary.

The ‘food’ is your skills, your contribution, your growth, and the satisfaction of solving problems.”

He leaned forward, voice firm but gentle.

“If you spend your time only chasing the plate, you might forget to enjoy the food. You’ll miss the real flavor of engineering work—the teamwork, the learning, the pride of fixing something no one else could.”

The table went silent.

One of the juniors nodded slowly.

Encik Rahman smiled again.

“So, appreciate the food you have now. Keep improving the recipe. And when the time comes, the right plate will come to you—without you having to fight over it.”

That afternoon, the complaints stopped.

The young engineers went back to the plant with a new perspective—not just about work, but about life.