Showing posts with label Malaysia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Malaysia. Show all posts

Saturday, 14 June 2025

Fliers taken for a ride?

oneworldvirtual.org/fleet/models/malaysia-airlines-boeing-737-8h6wl
Fliers in Malaysia are treated like flies. They are taken for granted, akin to how flies are viewed in the wet market—an accepted but necessary annoyance. Since the emergence of low-cost carriers and the widespread use of the internet for bookings, travelling has never been easier. 

Once the enticement concludes with super saver offers and the fabricated excitement that seats are selling out quickly, and once the transactions are finalised, the ball will be in the airlines' court. They have the freedom to postpone, cancel, and reschedule any trip to meet their business requirements, ensuring maximum returns. Multiple flights can be consolidated into a single journey if there are few passengers on a specific route. They do not owe their customers any explanation. In fact, contacting them is made nearly impossible. If customers persist, they can be redirected to chatbots, but only after verifying that the customers are indeed human. Humans must also pass the Turing test. The irony is that now machines are confirming humans to be humans!

Airlines may conceal behind the pretext of technical reasons, which can vary from a pilot failing to arrive for duty to a missing jet engine. 

It was a long weekend filled with wedding invitations, one or two at a time, back to back. Amidst this, a dear friend succumbed to a heart attack, making the weekend resemble a scene from 'Four Weddings and A Funeral', though with less masala.

I had booked a flight to Johor Bahru for 2:40 pm on a Friday. I thought there would be just enough time to finish off work and rush to the airport.

 

A few days before the flight, an email arrived informing me that the flight would be delayed by an hour, to 3:40 pm. This was fine, as the wedding was scheduled to start at 7 pm. It provided ample time to settle in and join the merriment. 


Once again, a day before the journey, there is another announcement. The plane now takes off an hour later, at 4:35 pm. How convenient. Of course, they offered a refund if the change was unacceptable, but one can only imagine the inconveniences and extra costs incurred if a new order is placed relatively close to the departure date. The airline can obscure their responsibilities under the often unread contract that customers must agree to before purchasing their tickets - it is the prerogative of the airline to delay, postpone, or even cancel the flight. 

Anyway, I made the trip in time for the function.

 

My return flight was scheduled for the following morning, the first one out at 6:30 am. If leaving early and rushing to the airport at an unearthly hour to arrive before the stipulated time was not enough, imagine how frustrating it is when the flight is delayed. Why was there a delay when the airport was clear, the weather was fine, and the plane was just starting its journey for the day? It's anybody's guess—no announcement and, obviously, no apologies. 


The reason people prefer air travel over driving in Malaysia, which boasts an extensive highway network admired globally, is the convenience it offers. The unpredictability of traffic conditions makes driving burdensome, especially for short trips. Although the travel time is comparable in both scenarios, the freshness factor becomes a significant consideration. The time needed to reach the airport, check in two hours before departure, and wait will be similar if one were to drive to the equivalent destination on the west coast of Peninsula Malaysia.

 

It appears that Malaysians are being taken for fools. They find themselves at the mercy of these operators, be they local budget carriers or regular airlines. There may be a need for assertive customers with a mob mentality, rather than the compliant, submissive ones they typically encounter here.



Thursday, 20 March 2025

A Rallying Cry!

The War Against Indians(2025)

150 Years of Betrayal, Suppression and Injustice in Malaya & Malaysia.

Author: Suthan Mookaiah


At the outset, the author does not claim the book as a literary work. He professes to merely inking his lived experiences. The sales of his books are a legitimate revenue source for him, as he funds upliftment programmes in Tamil Schools through his movement, Maatram.

Sollayah grew up in Taman West Country, a former estate land in Kajang. He saw the estates in Malaysia flattened in the heady days of Mahathirism. In the rapaciousness to make Malaysia a developed nation by 2020 and produce mega-millionaires of a certain denomination, the country was in heat. There was a land rush. Apparently, nobody, including the Indian leaders who were meant to represent them, had the inkling to think of the millions of Indians who had at least two to generations of a family whose world only revolved around the rubber estates and their surroundings.

Nobody thought of having the ex-estate workers vocational training or structured living programmes. Most economic developmental ideas initiated by its leader went into disarray. The Tamil schools were left unfunded with their structures in deplorable states. Community leaders of other groups were smart enough to care for the down line whilst the Indians were busy fattening their own coffers and running down each other.

The author's father had the wisdom to send his son to be educated in a national school (as compared to a Tamil school, as most nostalgic ex-estate dwellers would) despite the financial restraints. The author's father was odd-jobbing as a grasscutter. Suthan's studies enabled him to secure him a comfortable remuneration overseas. He returned to his homeland around the turn of the last decade and decided to pay back to the society he grew up in.

Through his movement, he tries to expose the decades of systemic marginalisation of the community after the collapse of the plantation economy. He tries to give dignity to Tamil Schools and stop the indiscriminate destruction of Hindu temples. The criminalisation of Indian youth is worrisome.

The author suggests the community to use the power of social to learn and disseminate useful information to hurl up the community to sturdy grounds.

He sells his book through the TikTok shop.


Tuesday, 2 July 2024

Under the radar

Abang Adik @ Pudu Youngsters (Malay/Cantonese/Sign Language; 2023)
Director: Jin Ong

When you wander around the wet markets or back lanes of many major cities, you find a buzzing economy independent of the one considered by economists and the national budget. There is a parallel economy going on there. 

You see many moving around, working intensely, and doing things others think are dirty, dangerous and demeaning. You see people washing dirty dishes at the back of the restaurant, slaughtering chickens and carting around loads of vegetables or sundry goods. They are invisible to most people's eyes. And they are paid a pittance in cash. These transactions are not recorded; hence, they escape the revenue departments. They are voiceless and live below the radar because, on paper, they are persona non grata. They may be undocumented foreign workers, economic migrants who overstayed or refugees. Intertwined in this group are Malaysian citizens themselves, who, at birth or due to other reasons, did not have their birth registered at the National Department.

In the eyes of the State, they are not identified in the country's statistics and do not enjoy the privileges proffered to its citizens, like opening a bank account, being part of the cashless society, obtaining a passport, or even getting into schools. What is worse is being disabled on top of all this.

Abang and Adik found themselves as unwanted kids wandering the backstreets of Pudu, Kuala Lumpur. Abang took it upon himself to be Adik's guardian, and together, they grew into adults, just moving along with time.

Abang, hearing impaired, leads a straight life, working odd jobs and saving every sen in a biscuit tin under his bed. Adik is the 'adventurous' one. He dabbles with the thugs around town, cheating illegal immigrants of their hard-earned and moonshining as a gigolo. They rent a room in a debilitated flat which had seen better times a long time ago, now occupied only by illegal immigrants. This place is periodically raided by the immigration officers to fulfil a quota of detaining undocumented immigrants. Abang and Adik would be rounded off, too, but would be released later. Their closest friend is a transgender person who took them as their son.

An NGO worker who goes beyond her call of duty to get them their legal papers helps them out. She somehow manages to locate Adik's father and invites him to meet his estranged father. Unfortunately, Adik's resentment of their father leads their conversation into a hearty argument that does not end well. 

In the meantime, Abang has developed a soft spot for a Myanmarese girl who will eventually be relocated to the US under the UNHCR relocation programme.

The last twenty minutes of the movie are the most gripping moments of the movie. The movie's most striking scene is when Abang has a 'conversation' with a Buddhist priest. When told by the priest to look at life positively, Abang, in sign language, has a long monologue, lamenting the life he has led, the hardship he went through, the parental love he never got, and, to top it off, the handicap he never asked for. Definitely worth a watch. 4.5/5. Worth the accolades it received.



Friday, 14 June 2024

The boat left when we were busy squabbling!

Perjuangan Politik Komuniti India dan Kempimpinan Malaysia Indian Congress 1946-2020
(Indian Community Political Struggle and the Leadership of Malaysian Indian Congress 1946-2020)
(Malaysian Language; 2023)
Author: Periasamy Muthan, M.A.


The story of Indians sojourning in the Malayan peninsula goes way back to a time before any form of Malay influence was seen here. Traces of its Swarnabhumi history, which is really the root of the cultural civilisation of this region, were systemically hushed by the ruling class to put their version of Malaya where it sprung out of nothing to be civilised by Muslim traders and thinkers.

After the first wave of Indian settlers, who came in around the time of the Malacca sultanate, the second wave arrived at the end of the nineteenth century with the British clerical team. The bulk of Indians, however, were brought in to work in the sugarcane, coffee, and later rubber plantations in the early 20th century. Working under slave-like conditions, the natural leaders amongst them started voicing their dissent.

Even as early as 1923, MIA (Malayan Indian Association) was started, mainly to echo the sentiments of their brethren back home in India against the British colonial powers. They were not really interested in local politics initially. Later, blatant discriminatory wages between the Chinese and Indians spurred demand for rights. In the 1930s, workers got a pittance even when the world rubber price was high. Indian groups soon picked up this issue. Also, by that time, colonist-sanctioned toddy drinking had become a significant social problem. MIA morphed into CIAM (Central Indian Association of Malaya). MIC (Malayan Indian Congress) came to being in 1946. Toddy abuse became a national issue by 1947. Easy access to the vile concoction was blamed.

Living conditions took a turn for the worse during the Japanese occupation. When the British returned after the Second World War, they proposed changes in the country's administration. The Malayan Union stirred strong opposition from the Malays, who considered themselves the land's indigenous people. The Straits Settlements were essentially carved off as British colonies, and the powers of the Malay royalties were clipped.

Funny, the royalties did not raise an eyebrow; they were just ready to ink their signatures on the dotted lines. It was really the educated Malays and political parties who raised hell. The non-Malay groups took interest when the issue of citizenship came up.

By the 1940s, soon after Nehru's and E.V. Periyar's visits, Indians in Malaya started looking at Malaysia as their nation rather than India. India soon became to be seen as Siberia for ethnic Indian wrongdoers who were exiled to India.

In the post-WW2 era, when the British Malaya Administration took charge, many political groups had been established. Some of them were race-based, while others were workers union-based. Communist Party Malaysia was also active in fighting for workers' rights. A truly multiethnic Malayan party was formed with the collaboration of MPAJA, Workers Party, and PUTERA many….. with CPM also giving its input. Guess what? MIC, at its infancy, was a firebrand party led by many professionals who were more interested in fighting the colonial masters rather than playing ball with the colonial master to usurp goodies. MCA and UMNO did just that, to earn business contracts and political favours.

The Malay loyalists, Chinese businessmen, and Indians of Ceylonese descent were quite content with British control of Malaya. They benefitted from their close association and could see no need for self-rule. So when the British finally decided to dispose of their cumbersome colonies after milking them out for decades, they chose to pass the baton to the moderate multiethnic party of the UMNO-MCA alliance rather than to the MPAJA-PUTERA coalition because of its leftist and communist link to it.

The early MIC (morphed from MIA) was a firebrand party that opposed many colonists' ideas. MIC was seen as the spokesperson for the oppressed working-class Indians. With frequent changes in its leadership, MIC evolved to become a Tamil-centric party acting as a voice for estranged estate workers. The earlier leaders were comprised of Punjabis and other North Indians. By 1955, with VT Sambanthan at the helm, the focus was enriching the poor Indians. He proposed a plan to make them landowners.

Cooperating with the majority and going all out to maintain peace and harmony has drawbacks. The top leadership took them as pushovers. It has been mentioned elsewhere that Tunku's top brass leadership sometimes bypassed Sambanthan's input. Tunku is heard to have said, "Sambanthan will agree!"

Sambanthan and many of its subsequent MIC leaders faced stiff criticism from its members. New leaders often came up with ideas that achieved little success. By the 1980s, MIC had gained a dubious reputation for being a loud, argumentative, and political party with chair-hurling members. Many private halls denied renting their premises for MIC functions. MIC finally had to build its own headquarters.

Over time, caste politics crept in. Different factions tried to change the party's direction and how it wanted to improve Malaysian Indians' well-being. Many of its projects could have flourished to their full potential, but sadly, they did not. The later leaders were accused of being autocratic. 

Malaysian society under Mahathir's leadership underwent cataclysmic changes. In his rapaciousness in churning out Malay millionaires overnight, he made significant policy changes. He introduced novel ideas like privatisation and established statutory bodies to improve Malay participation in the nation's economy. Many rubber and palm oil estates were cleared for development. Due to the dearth of adequate vocational skills or academic brilliance, the poor Indians were stuck in the lower rung of the chain and plunged even further down.

MIC and its leaders will claim how successful they have been over the years. The proof of the pudding is in the eating. Unlike other countries in the world where Indians are seen holding important professional and academic posts, the situation here is different. Over the years, Indians' economic grip has obviously dwindled. Members of this ethnic group have acquired the unenviable reputation of comprising gangsters and blue-coloured workers. Our prisons have a disproportionately high percentage of Indians. Death of Indians in prison is an accepted norm, indicating how bad their reputation is. Entrance to institutions of higher learning is depressingly low. The civil service, which was at one time reaming with Indians, now is clearly low.

The Hindraf rally in 2007 was the turning point that brought to the fore the ruling government's overtly systemic discriminatory, racist policies. The hegemony of MIC as the sole representative of Indians in the country was shaken. Even after many elections since then, nothing much has actually changed.

I once asked a senior doyen of an observer of Malaysian Indian politics about their discordant improvement of the ethnic group in the country. Look around the world. The Indian diaspora has been labelled as a go-getter able to pull themselves by their bootstraps in no time. Testimonies of these are aplenty - the U.K., Fiji, Uganda, the USA, Trinidad and Tobago, Surinam, Guyana, South Africa and even Tanzania. Who should carry the burden of messing up? Without batting an eyelid, he uttered, ""he leadership"" As we have heard many times before, people are very fickle. They need to figure out what they want. The natural leader amongst them (like a Moses or a Gilgamesh) would rise to show new horizons. Sadly, the boat left while we were still donning our socks.



Thursday, 16 May 2024

Don Quixote’s Paradise

It is the year 2074. Yes, the world is still around, and so is the human race. It has been over a century since Malaysia received its mandate to self-rule. Technically, we should be in a utopia with so much sunlight throughout the year and a chirpy tropical climate devoid of depressing, chilling winters or debilitating natural calamities. A potpourri of food options is available 24/7 at our fingertips and delivered to our doorsteps with easy-access drone servers. We should be the happiest people in the world. In reality, however…


https://borderlessjournal.com/2024/05/14/don-quixotes-paradise






Wednesday, 21 February 2024

Things we may have to unlearn!

Malu apa bossku? Apparently, all the things I may have learnt from childhood may be wrong after all. Sometimes, I wonder whether I thought the wrong thing or may have been hoodwinked to believe obviously wrong things. Perhaps values changed while we were napping. I always assumed that when one loses any of his properties via public auction, he is said to have lost not only his wealth but also his dignity. The mark of a true man is his ability to acquire wealth and provide for his dependents; his inability to retain his finances is a colossal failure. At a time when pride was everything, abscondment and suicide were standard outlets. My legal eagle friends remain nonchalant about their clients or opponents declaring themselves bankrupt or their properties auctioned off. To them, that is a cost of doing business. Overlooking the inconveniences of bankruptcy, it remains a legitimate 'get out of jail' sort of card. Nothing Earth-shattering, they say, and definitely no shame. I remember a time in my childhood when two policemen came knocking at one of my neighbours' doors. The next thing I saw was my neighbour being escorted out with his hands at the back, handcuffed. My neighbour's mother was wailing, and the other neighbours on the flat floor were busy concocting their own theories of what had transpired before the arrest. Forget that they all had not an iota of clue of what the accused was in for. That left an indelible impression on the young me of how a clash with authorities would affect the people around me. Then came an epiphany. Great world leaders immortalised in our history books spent a big chunk of their lives behind bars. Gandhi was practically behind bars all through the Second World War. Mandela spent 27 years in solitary confinement on Robben Island and other prisons.
In my mind, that is how I thought ex-PM Najib's supporters looked at him when all the legal minds of the country decided that he was guilty of hoodwinking the people's money for whatever reasons. His supporters viewed him as a saviour wronged in a hostile environment when he claimed what was rightfully his. It did not matter that the leader took full responsibility for the duties shouldered upon him in the line of national duty or, like the ship's captain, was the last person to leave a sinking ship. In their eyes, he is a sacrificial lamb of a system supposed to protect him. Whichever way one sees it, their statement just becomes more and more pervasive.

"No, no," reassured the ex-PM's supporters. They insist he was just a pawn in an intricate political ploy to discredit him. "There is no reason to be ashamed, my boss!" (Malu apa Boss ku?) 

I was nurtured to believe that education is a sure way to succeed. Hence, as children, we were told that nothing was more important in life than sitting down and absorbing everything in the books to regurgitate at the appropriate times. Then, it dawned upon me. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. Every bit of exposure maketh a boy a complete being. As I learnt from Steve Jobs's autobiography, everything one learns is useful somewhere in one's life. There were many roads to Rome. What is the truth?

Shakuni's temple in Kerala. Homage to his
determination to seek revenge against the
greatest empire of the land. Allegedly attained
moksha here.

Now, the world tells us that we were taken for a ride. All the so-called history taught to us was fraud by the voice of the victors who wanted to paint a favourable view of themselves. The truth was multifaceted. Only until the lion tells his side of the story will every tale glorify the hunter.
To put the cherry on the icing on my cake of confusion, lately, a scholar completely shattered the image of Shakuni, a character in Mahabharata. My understanding is that Shakuni was the villain of the whole tale. He allegedly had a special dice that helped him to cheat the Pandavas of their kingdom and humiliate their wife, Kunti. He walked with a limp that inspired a distasteful proverb in Tamil, which suggested that all handicapped people have evil in their hearts.

Now, they say that it is the Pandavas who instigated the situation. By nature, Shakuni was a skilled gamer. He had an abnormal gait but an able body with no handicap of any kind. Shakuni did not have a limp or had no trouble walking, running or even scaling high mountains. What he had was unbridled loyalty to his sister, Gandhari, and far-sightedness. Gandhari's father, with his kingdom in Afghanistan, had learned from his soothsayers that his daughter had a curse. Her astrological chart suggested her husband would die soon after marriage. So, the family got her married to a goat, which was quickly slaughtered to break the curse. Gandhari was then married off to the blind king of Hastinapura, Dhritrashtra. After discovering that Gandhari was technically a widow, Dhriashtra's father and brother sieged Gandhari's father's kingdom. They imprisoned the male members, who subsequently succumbed to their torture. The family was parsimonious with their food supply to ensure the youngest, Shakuni, thrived through the ordeal to avenge the Pandavas on a later date.

Shakuni later comes to live with his sister to protect her. The rest of what happened afterwards is left to our interpretation.

P.S. The aunties I was exposed to in my childhood did not filter much of what they thought of others. My mother was no different. They called a spade a spade and had no qualms about speaking their mind. Being politically correct was an alien concept. I have often heard my mother cursing people behind their backs for wronging her. She even cursed a handicapped lady who congenitally had an underdeveloped right leg as being as evil as Shakuni. That is when I heard her often mentioned in Tamil, implying that a limping person has a dirty heart!



“Be afraid. Be very afraid.”*