I’ve been working in this multinational company for one and a half years now. Since I’m an anti-social, I have not so many friends in my work place. But it doesn’t mean that I’m not good at the work I do. Anyway, for the past one and a half years, I have been doing lots and lots of observation. In other words, people watching. And the most obvious thing that caught my eyes was the amount of Indian nationals in my work place. I can safely say that every department at every floor in this working compound has Indian nationals in it. My first question is, are they cheap labour? I don’t think so. Most of them are “professional” expatriates; which means they have special salary packages with housing and car allowances (among others). Are they better at doing their jobs? Again, I don’t think so. Many times I saw Malaysian fresh graduates do better jobs than these “so-called” experienced Indian nationals. Are they better managers? This one is a confident no!

My manager was an Indian national. I’ve never seen anybody licked asses of their bosses to the anal canal of the rectum like my manager. During Town Hall sessions or Coffee Talks, this particular Indian manager of mine would sit at the most visible seat available, straight, without his back touching the back-rest of his chair and showed-off his attention seeking, puppy dog face. When it’s time for Q&As, he’d raise his hand and echoed every single point the speaker has presented without uttering a single question. In a smaller scale, apart from two person, all of his subordinates wanted to mutilate him with a strangling cord each and every single day. Well, I guess all of the above are normal scenarios that happen every day, in every workplace in these present times.

Since I’m an anti-social, I don’t go to lunch during lunch hours. I hate crowded places. I hate crowds of people flooding the cafeteria during lunch hours. It’s like packs of hyenas scavenging a single carcass of a zebra in an African grassland. So, during lunch break, I’d sit at the smoking area, pretending to do things on my phone, while watching the people at the cafeteria.

I noticed most of these Indian nationals will bring their own food in Tupperware containers to the cafeteria. The most that they’d buy from the cafeteria are plain rice and beverages. I guess their own curry is better than the curry in the cafeteria. Or the vegetarian section of the cafeteria is not kosher enough for the consumption of these Indian nationals.

I would sit for a long time at the smoking area. Sometimes for the whole period of lunch break, pretending to do things on my phone, while watching people. After these Indian nationals finished eating, they’d pack up their Tupperware containers, put it back inside plastic bags and trotted merrily towards the smoking area. With their long sleeved, buttoned to the wrist, pin-striped shirt, tucked into brownish slacks, with their 90s Shahrukh Khan hairstyle and one day old beard, with a plastic bag in one hand and a cigarette in the other, they’d ask us for a lighter. Every single fucking day! What? Are they prohibited from owning a lighter? Are they too poor to afford a RM1.20 lighter?

They would chat among themselves while smoking. Speaking in Tamil or Telugu or Kannada or whatever while those who are not speaking would just nod their heads side-ways. One time, a few months back, one of them asked me for a lighter. I stood up and told him to buy his own lighter at the grocery shop in the cafeteria before I left him standing there like an idiot. Until now, no smoking Indian nationals ever asked me for a lighter anymore.

What’s so special about these people that they have to come to my country and do work that my own countrymen can do the same (or better)? This is not a racial question. This is also not a right-wing influenced propaganda query. It’s just me, wondering deep in my mind as an individual.

*I’m no longer reporting to one of them. No wonder I can write again!