A look at the stark contrast between the Chola legacy and the modern struggle of Tamilians in Malaysia as depicted in a viral comic strip.
We often hear the phrase "We are the grandchildren of kings," but a recent comic strip circulating online forces us to ask: Are we living like it? The artwork presents a brutal juxtaposition between the "Prideful Cholas" of the 11th century and a satirical, darker depiction of modern Malaysian Tamils, labeled in the comic with the derogatory slang Mayirandiss (implying "useless" or "wretched people").
Let’s break down the details of this comic and the powerful, albeit painful, differentiation it makes.
The Top Panel: The Era of Pride (1000 Years Ago)
The top half of the comic takes us back to the Golden Age of Tamil history, specifically the reigns of Raja Raja Chola and his son, Rajendra Chola.
The Vision: The scene opens with a young Rajendra marveling at the Thanjavur Big Temple (Brihadisvara Temple). His father, Raja Raja Chola, teaches him a crucial lesson: "We pass on, but our legacy remains." This sets the tone for a civilization focused on creating things that outlast their own lifespans.
The Execution: Fast forward 15 years, and we see the famous Chola naval expansion into Southeast Asia (Kedah, Srivijaya). The grown-up Rajendra shows his father the "greatest fleet," declaring, "The ocean is ours!"
The Bond: The section ends with a wholesome embrace. The pride here is derived from achievement, construction, and expansion. The father is proud because his son has built something greater than himself.
The Bottom Panel: The Modern Reality (Malaysia Context)
The bottom half shifts to a gritty, sepia-toned modern setting, likely a neighborhood in Malaysia, where the dialect switches to a mix of Tamil and Malay ("Bang," "Jangan," "Pasal").
The "Legacy": Instead of discussing temples or empires, two mothers argue on the street. One boasts, "My son is a 77 number man!" (referencing the notorious "Double Seven" gang or similar secret societies). The other counters that her son is a "Hero." Here, pride is derived from criminal affiliation rather than achievement.
The Aggression: We see two young men posturing. There is no naval fleet to command, only a petty street confrontation involving a parang (machete). The dialogue captures the fragility of their egos: "What are you looking at? I'll break your eyes."
The Fall: The final scenes are tragic. A man begs a police officer, "Don't brother, I have a child," but it is too late. The officer counts down—citing "39 prior cases"—before the inevitable gunshot. The "legacy" left behind here is not a temple, but a fatherless child and a criminal record..

No comments:
Post a Comment