Gangsterism among Indians. According to Bukit Aman’s data, 71.75 percent of all identified active gang members in Malaysia are of Indian descent. This is what happens when young men grow up with no credible path forward; no matriculation quota, no business grant, no government contract, no civil service fast track.

Economist Muhammad Abdul Khalid says Indian Malaysians earned, per capita, some 76 percent more than the Malays in 1970.

However, by the mid-2000s, the advantage narrowed to 27 percent, and for the bottom half of the community, it has since collapsed. The Indian story is therefore not one of uniform poverty, but a catastrophic downward mobility for those at the bottom.

Only nine percent of Indian candidates received interview call-backs compared to 44 percent of Chinese applicants, thus creating an additional barrier to fair wages, career progression and most importantly, employment.

A 2021 Discrimination in Education Survey revealed that nine in 10 Indian students felt discriminated against because of their ethnicity. About 73 percent of these students were discriminated against by fellow students, and 74 percent of Indian students were discriminated against by their teachers.

And unless we are prepared to confront reality, we cannot change it.

Hope is not weakness

For decades, Indians have been told to wait. Wait for development. Wait for reform. Wait for inclusion. Wait for opportunities. Wait for the next policy. Wait for the next government. Wait for the next election.

We have waited through different administrations, different coalitions and different political eras. Yet many of the structural challenges facing Indians remain stubbornly familiar.

Our educational inequalities remain. Our economic vulnerabilities remain. Our underrepresentation in key sectors remains. The question is no longer whether politicians recognise these problems.

The question is whether they are willing to solve them.

Many Indians placed tremendous hope in the reform movement that eventually brought Pakatan Harapan to power. They believed a new political culture would emerge. They believed long-neglected issues would finally receive sustained attention.

Those hopes were understandable.

Hope is not a weakness. Hope is what drives democratic participation. But hope must eventually be measured against outcomes. And many ordinary Indians today are asking difficult questions.

Where is the comprehensive economic strategy for Indian entrepreneurs?

Where is the bold plan to build Indian-owned businesses capable of competing nationally, regionally and globally?

Where is the transformation in educational outcomes?

Where are the institutions that can uplift communities regardless of who occupies Putrajaya?

Where is the structural change that was promised?

Many Indians voted for reform. What they received was often administration. They voted for transformation. Too often, they got management. They voted for structural change. Too often, they got announcements.

These are not questions born of hostility. They are questions born of disappointment. There is a difference. Criticism is not betrayal. Accountability is not disloyalty.

Democracy demands that citizens ask difficult questions of those who seek their votes. And Indians must ask those questions now more than ever. Because one of the greatest mistakes any community can make is becoming a guaranteed vote bank.

The moment politicians believe your vote belongs to them automatically, they stop earning it. They begin assuming it.

And when votes are assumed, accountability disappears. Politicians start believing that symbolic gestures are enough. A speech here. A photo opportunity there. A committee. A task force. An announcement. A promise. Another promise. And another.

Meanwhile, communities continue struggling with the same challenges year after year.

Influence in democracy

There is another reality we must confront honestly. Today, Indian Malaysians make up roughly 6.5 percent of the population. Some hear that figure and see weakness. I see leverage.

In a democracy, influence is not merely a matter of numbers. It is a matter of organisation, participation, purpose and vision. A community that votes strategically, builds institutions and contributes to national life can exercise influence far beyond its numerical size.

But we must also confront an uncomfortable reality. We may not always be 6.5 percent. One day, we may be five percent. Perhaps less. When that day comes, our future will not depend on how many we are. It will depend on how organised we are.

That is why the next generation matters so profoundly. Young Indian Malaysians cannot afford political apathy. They cannot afford to withdraw from public life or believe that their voices do not matter.

They must become entrepreneurs, professionals, academics, innovators, civil servants, community leaders and elected representatives. They must organise, participate and lead.

The future will not be secured by nostalgia for what previous generations achieved. It will be secured by what young Indians build from this moment onward.

Selva built platforms. Our younger generation must build power.

The question facing us is therefore not whether our community will become smaller. The question is whether it will become stronger.

Selva understood this. As a visionary leader, he understood results and outcomes. He knew that intentions alone do not build companies and communities. Vision alone does not create jobs. Good speeches do not generate wealth. Only execution does.

The same applies to politics. Governments should not be judged by slogans. They should be judged by outcomes: How many businesses were created? How many young people were empowered? How many opportunities were opened? How many barriers were removed? How many institutions were strengthened?

These are the measurements that matter.

Because the future of Indian Malaysians cannot depend on political patronage. It cannot depend on waiting for favours. It cannot depend on hoping that someone else will solve our problems.

It must be built upon entrepreneurship. It must be built upon education. It must be built upon economic participation. It must be built upon institutions.

Vote as investment

That was Selva’s vision. He believed in connecting people. He believed in creating opportunities. He believed in building networks that could help future generations succeed. He understood that economic empowerment is not a luxury. It is the foundation of dignity.

A community that controls its own economic destiny speaks with confidence. A community that depends entirely on others speaks with uncertainty.

And so, as we approach the next general election, I believe Selva would have asked these questions: Who is building institutions? Who is helping small businesses grow? Who is investing in entrepreneurs? Who is creating opportunities for young people?

Who understands that communities need empowerment rather than dependency? Who is thinking about the next generation rather than the next election? Who is prepared to do the difficult work of nation-building instead of merely campaigning?

Those are the questions that matter. Not personalities. Not slogans. Not tribal loyalties. Not fear.

For too long, Indian Malaysians have often been encouraged to vote out of fear. Fear of one coalition. Fear of another coalition. Fear of instability. Fear of losing what little we have.

But fear has never built a school. Fear has never built a business. Fear has never created wealth. Fear has never transformed a community. Only vision can do that. Only leadership can do that. Only courage can do that.

This election, our votes matter not because politicians need them. Our votes matter because our future depends on how we use them.

Every vote should be treated as an investment. And like every investment, it should demand returns. Not in the form of handouts. Not in the form of tokenism. Not in the form of symbolic recognition. But in the form of genuine opportunities.

Selva did not spend his life building Gopio so that future generations could become spectators. He built it because he believed Indians could be participants. Builders. Employers. Leaders. Institution-makers.

The “other Malaysia” does not have to remain the “other Malaysia”. But that will require courage. The courage to ask difficult questions. The courage to reject empty promises.

The courage to demand accountability. The courage to think beyond the next election. And the courage to take responsibility for our own future.

Because in the end, communities are remembered for what they created. They are remembered for what they left behind.

Selvarajoo Sundram built. The question before us is simple: Will we?