Recently I had the opportunity to visit an orphanage called Hannah Home in Canning Garden, Ipoh. I brought my young daughter along. She gave packets of food and drinks to the little kids. The delight on their cherubic faces was most heart-warming. 

There are about 40 children staying in this little house, some as young as a few months old. The orphanage was set up about five years ago by a couple who have devoted their lives to providing a better future for underprivileged children. The orphanage survives solely on the generosity and kindness of the residents living near and far.  

There is this little girl at the home who caught my eye. She is about three years old, with bright sparkling eyes and a smile that could melt your heart. I asked her what she wanted for her birthday and in a barely audible voice, she whispered “mummy”. 

I went silent for a moment. 

This sweet child had apparently been left at the orphanage when she was two by her mother. Efforts by Hannah Home’s founder Carol Cheng Penner to trace the mother came to nought. 

I was informed by Carol that this girl would from time to time stand by the door quietly while the other orphans played. There was sometimes a tinge of sadness in her eyes as she scoured the surroundings. Carol said she did not have the heart to shatter this little girl’s dream of having her mummy walk through the gates one day to finally take her home.  

There was another infant girl who caught my attention. Abigail had a congenital heart problem and her mother abandoned her at the hospital. Barely 11 months old, she had endured more medical treatment than any adult would ever want to face in his or her lifetime. Carol took this baby home and, by some miracle, Abigail has grown into a beautiful little princess.  

No matter how immune you are to stories of abandoned children and the plight of orphans, nothing can prepare you for the stark reality and the longings of an innocent child.  

I cannot understand how a parent can leave his or her own flesh alone in this merciless world. It just does not make sense when you read so much about infertility problems and the trials and tribulations childless couples have to face as they undergo all forms of treatment.  

I am not out to vilify the parents who abandon their children. But I write in the hope that they will realise the repercussions of their decisions and actions.  

There are perhaps a multitude of reasons why they leave their children behind. Young, unwed mothers still face social stigma. Not many young girls, probably just out of their teens, have the strength and courage to face the world and the burdens of motherhood.  

In most instances, the father bolts at the first possible opportunity.  

So the poor girl chooses the easiest way out – forget the past. This is evident from the many cases of abandoned newborns.  

Mentally and physically disabled children have often been abandoned, too.  

Yayasan Latihan Insan Istimewa at Taman Camay, off Jalan Pasir Puteh, Ipoh, is a privately funded shelter for the disabled. It is home to some 30 residents whose ages range from one to 30. Most of them are severely disabled. Some of the residents have been left at the home by parents who promised to send money. None came. Some have been staying there for more than a decade. 

We will never know why parents resort to this and we can only speculate. Some parents may be unable to cope with the physical and financial demands of raising such children but some are just not prepared to face the reality of being parents to such children.  

These privately run orphanages give abandoned children a second chance. A number of charges from Hannah Home who have completed their studies and are now gainfully employed, have made their way back to the home to help their other “siblings”.  

These orphanages are in constant need of funds and depend greatly on the generosity of the public. With the increasing number of children in the homes, the cost of maintenance has gone up, too. The least we can do is to offer a little help and encouragement so that these children can have a brighter future. 

To non-Indians, there are just Indians. Ask an ‘Indian’ what he is, though, and he would say he’s a Malayalee, or a Telegu, or any one of the other language-specific communities, of which there is a bewilderingly large number.

A YOUNG Sikh man and a young Ceylonese woman fell in love. They courted secretly for years until they finally decided that they wished to marry.

The nervous couple parted to return home and break the news to their respective families, and were greeted, amidst much gnashing of teeth and pulling of hair, by the identical chastisement: “Why lah you have to go and marry an Indian!”

Now that particular little nugget may be an urban legend, but there is some validity to the assertion that many of the different Indian communities view themselves as having a separate identity of their own that should be recognised by others.

This view is held not just in India, which is home to many of the world’s religions and boasts more than 20 official languages, but also all over the world where there are Indian communities, including in Malaysia where Indians are a significant minority.

Surely that view is justified, for after all, who in his right mind expects homogeneity in a region of nearly 1.5 billion people (if you factor in Pakistan, Bangladesh, Sri Lanka, and Nepal)?

But as Indians move away from traditions (some of which, some might argue, are poisonous ones) like the caste system and arranged marriages, just how much of the Indian sub-continent’s rich and varied history is being lost to current generations?

Two recent developments brought this question to the fore.

The first was a faux pas committed by newly elected Perak Mentri Besar Mohammad Nizar Jamaluddin who last Sunday mistakenly referred to the Sikh community as Bengali, when indeed the community has its roots in Punjab (see map, right).

Another was the almost bewildering confluence of religious festivals that occurred over the last two weeks – Vaisakhi, Poila Boishakh, Ugadi, Vishu, and the Tamil New Year also coincided with Thailand’s Songkran festival and other regional celebrations.

The Punjabi/Bengali difference

As I attempted a thorough investigation into this vast realm, I soon became overwhelmed by the sheer diversity of the various Indic peoples (generally divided into the northern Indo-Aryan and southern Dravidian groups).

For example, I learnt that there are Punjabis who don’t practice Sikhism but who come from the same geographical region and speak the same language as the Sikhs. These Punjabis are Hindus, so one cannot factually say that to be Punjabi and to be Sikh are synonymous. And there are Punjabis who are Muslim and Christian, too.

Malaysia Hindu Sangam president Datuk A. Vaithilingam explains that confusion over the specific race, religion, and language of the various Indian communities is nothing new, and that the Punjabi/Bengali error is a particularly common one.

“Many Malaysians make that mistake. This has been an error that dates back to the British colonial era when many Sikhs were brought to Malaya.

“Through some form of miscommunication, perhaps because the Sikhs came through the Bengali port of Calcutta, this incorrect title has continued to be applied.”

A variety of responses to the issue have emerged.

Khalsa Dharmic Jatha Gurdwara vice-president Baljit Singh was very displeased: “That utterance (by the MB) has made the Sikhs a laughing stock of other communities,” he was quoted as saying in The Star on Tuesday.

Dr Sarjit S. Gill, Universiti Putra Malaysia’s professor of Social Anthropology, adopts an altogether different stance, though: “I view the MB’s statement as a blessing in disguise because I welcome the debate. I don’t think we should blame him. Firstly, we should blame ourselves, especially the Sikh organisations and gurdwaras (temples) in Malaysia.

“I have attended many seminars and programmes conducted by Sikhs in Malaysia where non-Sikhs are not invited to join in simply because we do not want ‘others’ to know our problems. So how can we get upset if we are a closed community and other groups don’t understand us well enough?”

However, network engineer Nirmal Singh feels that our nation’s political leaders should make more of an effort to understand the various communities.

“I am used to this sort of ignorance, but while I have seen it among children and young adults, I didn’t expect a political leader to make such a gaffe. There is a huge difference between Punjabis and Bengalis.”

Nirmal Singh does admit, however, that he himself is not very well-versed in the differences between other Indian communities such as the Tamils, Malayalees, Telugus, etc: “I suppose because we have a different religion we expect others to understand the differences.” (Tamils, Malayalees, and Telugus are usually Hindus.)

The same, yet different?

Such confusion is probably aided and abetted by the plethora of Indian festivals.

The Hindu Sangam’s Vaithilingam explains that festivals are one of the best examples of both the commonalities and differences between Indian communities.

“Many regions of India have their own unique festivals, although often they might be linked. Telugus celebrate Ugadi according to the lunar calendar whereas Tamils follow the solar calendar. Songkran and many similar festivals in Cambodia, Laos, and Sri Lanka occur at around the same time because they followed the Singhalese New Year (which is based on the lunar calendar).”

Dr Krishanan Maniam, an associate professor in Universiti Malaya’s (UM) Department of Indian Studies, explains that the community’s representation in Malaysia differs vastly from that in India.

“It’s true that Indians in Malaysia come from various parts of India but a vast majority of them are from the south of India, (the state of) Tamil Nadu specifically. You also have significant numbers of Telegus, Malayalees, Kannadas, and so on.” (See map for where these people come from within India.)

Because, historically, Tamils formed a majority among Malaysian Indians, they soon became linguistically dominant among the South Indian communities: “Even though (the south Indians) brought many languages to the country, in Malaysia, Tamil became the lingua franca among the South Indians. This meant that Telegu-speaking families, for example, eventually became more fluent in Tamil!”

Prof N. Kanthasamy, who is also with UM’s Indian Studies Department, feels that while the differences between the various Indian communities should be studied and appreciated, they should not be over-emphasised.

“I think in a modern, progressive Malaysia we should try to overcome our differences and think of ourselves as Malaysians first. If we harp on these traditional factors too much we are back to square one.”

Still he does concede that the study of Indian history reveals many fascinating common points.

“If you look at history, you will see why the differences can be confusing. In India itself, during the Chola dynasty, which lasted many centuries (from the 9th to 12th centuries), the whole of Southern India was under one rule.

“During this time, the Tamil language became dominant, and it is the root language from which the other South Indian languages sprang.”

In fact, there are even a few Tamil words like kapal (ship), tali (string), and raja (king) that have influenced the Malay language!

“Since that time,” explains Prof Kanthasamy, “there have been numerous separations and unifications of (states in) southern India, and it was only as recently as the 1950s that Madras State became split along the lines of language.

“From that, you had the emergence of the Telugu-, Kannada-, and Malayalee-speaking states (Andhra Pradesh, Karnataka, and Kerala, respectively).

“When people from these peoples came to Malaysia in large waves under the British, these groups were all classified as Indian, without much distinction.

Aside from sheer numbers, another reason that Tamils and their language may seem dominant in Malaysia is that the Telegu, Malayalee, and Punjabi language schools that existed up until the late 1970s eventually closed down, Prof Kanthasamy explains.

“These communities scattered, and there wasn’t enough enrolment in their schools, whereas the Tamils have had the numbers to keep their schools going.”

Maintaining identities

Dr S. Kumaran, another Indian Studies department expert, feels that the “dilution” of tradition is inevitable

“Unlike Indians from India, Malaysian Indians are not always well-schooled in tradition. In most cases, we cannot identify each other’s community visually, and so we rely on language, and even that can be mixed up.

“And let’s not forget that even at home, many Indians choose to speak English over their mother tongue.

“Still, to those who do follow tradition, there are true differences, especially in India. Each community will very often have its unique traditional clothing, ways of preparing food, and so on.

“The Malayalees, for example, might tie their saris differently, cook certain dishes unique to their community, and celebrate, say, Onam, but, again, some of these traditions don’t survive very strongly in modern Malaysia.”

Even names don’t necessarily offer much of a clue about a person’s roots anymore: “In Malaysia we have left behind the culture of using clan names like Rao and Naidu for Telegus, and Nair and Menon for Malayalees,” explains Dr Krishanan.

As Malaysia’s Indian society moves away from traditionalist mores that still hold sway in parts of India, we can expect a further blurring of communal lines, says Prof Kanthasamy.

“Intermarriage across communities is another factor that is breaking down such barriers.

“While you do have certain staunch traditionalists, many Indians are marrying outside their community and, often, outside their race,” he says.

“Arranged marriages are on the way out, and people tend to chose their own partners, perhaps based on educational and economic background more than race, language or even religion.”

So why then is there a need to focus on what makes us culturally unique? That there is some need is underlined by the irate mail that is quick to arrive at The Star whenever someone from outside the communities makes a mistake and glosses everyone with the same “Indian” brush.

“Economic factors might be a reason that communities in Malaysia might still want to emphasise their differences,” muses Prof Kanthasamy.

“For example, while many Indian Tamils originally came here in the late 19th century and first half of the 20th century as indentured labourers, the Malayalees and Ceylonese Tamils were brought in to perform more ‘educated’, white collar jobs, such as clerical work.

“Thus, there may be a desire to maintain that socio-economic distinction.

“Nowadays, as the communities become more prosperous, they may also feel more confident about exploring and safe-guarding their roots.

“I believe even Astro has played a part in arousing interest as it offers programmes for Telegu and Malayalee speakers.”

Festive fervour

APpic

Ponggal – Tamil harvest festival (Jan 14)

Thaipusam – South Indian festival honouring Lord Muruga (Jan 23)

Holi (pic above) – North Indian “festival of colours” celebrating the first full moon of spring (March 22)

Gudi Padwa – Maharashtrian New Year (April 6)

Ugadi – Telugu and Kannada New Year (April 7)

Puthandu – Tamil New Year (April 13)

Vaisakhi – Commemorates both the establishment of the Khalsa (collective body of Sikhs baptised by Guru Gobind Singh in 1699) and the harvest festival (April 14)

Members of Sikh communities around the world celebrate Vaisakhi in April. In Paris, they put on a show of their warrior skills. – AFP

Poila Boishakh – Bengali New Year (April 14)

Vishu – Malayalee New Year (April 14)

Onam – Malayalee harvest festival (Sept 12)

Navaratri – Nine-day festival commemorating goddess Durga (Sept 29)

Deepavali – Festival of Lights (Oct 28)