When an ordinary man becomes extraordinary

 

The world was not aware when P Subramaniam died on Nov 18 aged 77. He was, after all, an ordinary man, a small man.

Just like any other ordinary man, his life was a struggle; but he lived his life within his means. He was no degree holder; he was not driven to acquire material goods; and he didn’t aspire to power or greatness.

But his family and friends, and those whom the former hospital attendant had touched, mourned the passing of a man with a large heart.

Known to many in Sungai Petani as “hospital Maniam” because he had worked at the district hospital for decades, Maniam would cook food, put them in packets and distribute these to people who had to wait long hours at the hospital.

For 16 years, Maniam handed over packed simple vegetarian meals and fried bee hoon at least three days a week to those who came from afar for their hospital appointments and had to wait to see the doctor or get x-rayed or whatever.

Initially he prepared about 30 packets but later he prepared about 60-65 packets. He would then go to the hospital during lunch hour to distribute the food packets to anyone needing or wanting it regardless of race or religion.

He once told me: “Having worked in the hospital, I know that many people come by bus from rural areas and sometimes they have to wait almost the whole day.

“Some of them won’t have enough money to buy food and some won’t leave the hospital compound because they would be afraid their numbers would be called. So they would skip lunch.”

Being spiritually inclined, Maniam felt he had to help such people, especially so because Indian culture asserts that the best “dhaanam”, or offering, one can give another human being is food.

He was also a stout follower of the Hindu sage Ramalinga Swamigal – also known as Vallalar – who exhorted people to love all creatures and assist everyone in need regardless of creed or colour.

Which is also why some Sungai Petani residents knew him by the monicker “Vallalar Maniam”.

Vallalar Maniam would cook the food himself, with the help of his wife Manormoney.

He initially used his hard-earned savings, but soon friends chipped in.

Almost every one of the large number of people who turned up for his funeral on Nov 19 praised his act of feeding the hungry.

I knew Maniam from the time I worked in Sungai Petani between 1986 and 1991. The vegetarian had started a small orphanage with another man in the early 1980s but left it after some time due to differences with the co-founder.

He was also part of a small group of friends and their families, known as the “Kandar Shasti Group”, who would gather once a week at the Sri Subramaniya Swami temple along Jalan Kuala Ketil, in the 1980s, to recite, for an hour or two, the “Kandar Shasti” song dedicated to Lord Muruga.

Their mission was to pray for the well-being of people everywhere; and for the two opposing camps fighting for control of the temple management to be given divine guidance. In fact, after some time, the management dispute was indeed resolved.

His daughters Shamala, Kavitha, Latchmi and son Kumaraguru would join in the recitation sessions. Kumaraguru, sadly, died in an accident in 2015, leaving Maniam devastated.

The Kandar Shasti Group would also collect money from among themselves to buy foodstuff for distribution to poor folk. On festive occasions they would visit poor families of all racial backgrounds with basic foodstuff – such as rice, cooking oil, milk powder and festive cookies.

Perhaps it was because of his good karma that he did not suffer when he died.

According to Kavitha, her father complained of breathing difficulty and began sweating at their Taman Ria house. Latchmi and her mother decided to take him to hospital and Maniam went into his room to change. When he took a long time to come out, Manormoney went in to check – only to find him dead on the bed.

Those present at the funeral exchanged this story, and also his good deeds, his deep sense of spirituality and love for badminton. He had played for the Kedah Indians team in earlier years.

In praising him now those at the funeral showed a normal tendency, for it is only when someone dies that we recall the good deeds he or she has done, and the memorable time spent together in some activity or other.

Often, we make the mistake of not appreciating people when they are alive. Perhaps we take them for granted; or perhaps our ego prevents us from praising someone else.

How does it help to heap praises on a person when he or she is no more? What purpose is served in crying if we were unable to appreciate that person when he or she was alive?

I think we should all make an effort to recognise and appreciate the acts of kindness that others perform – such as feeding the hungry or contributing money towards a student’s education or extending a helping hand to someone in need.

Also, we should never disregard the small acts of kindness that people do, such as encouraging our efforts at something or other, cooking a meal for us, being there for us when we are down, sharing useful knowledge, sending a “good morning” message, giving way in traffic, and smiling.

I am reminded of mothers who cook and clean and father’s who work hard to educate their children; and especially the sleepless nights they spend taking care of their precious babies..

I am reminded of the many former students of King Edward VII Secondary School Taiping who contribute generously towards the education of the current students by providing scholarship funds or money to upgrade school facilities.

I am reminded of Lim Ka Huat, a former schoolmate, who makes it a point to frequently visit one of his teachers who is in a care home, and also take out other former teachers for dinners.

I am sure readers will know of many such ordinary people – in their families, among their friends or in their town – who make life better for others. Not in spectacular ways, but in simple ways.

In my book these ordinary people – including Vallalar Maniam – are extraordinary. Let’s learn to appreciate them – including our parents, siblings, teachers and friends – while they are alive. - FMT

The views expressed are those of the writer and do not necessarily reflect those of MMKtT.