Rudyard Kipling"
“When you're left wounded on Afganistan's plains and
the women come out to cut up what remains, Just roll to your rifle
and blow out your brains,
And go to your God like a soldier”
General Douglas MacArthur"
“We are not retreating. We are advancing in another direction.”
“It is fatal to enter any war without the will to win it.” “Old soldiers never die; they just fade away.
“The soldier, above all other people, prays for peace, for he must suffer and be the deepest wounds and scars of war.”
“May God have mercy upon my enemies, because I won't .” “The object of war is not to die for your country but to make the other bastard die for his.
“Nobody ever defended, there is only attack and attack and attack some more.
“It is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died. Rather we should thank God that such men lived.
The Soldier stood and faced God
Which must always come to pass
He hoped his shoes were shining
Just as bright as his brass
"Step forward you Soldier,
How shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek?
To My Church have you been true?"
"No, Lord, I guess I ain't
Because those of us who carry guns
Can't always be a saint."
I've had to work on Sundays
And at times my talk was tough,
And sometimes I've been violent,
Because the world is awfully rough.
But, I never took a penny
That wasn't mine to keep.
Though I worked a lot of overtime
When the bills got just too steep,
The Soldier squared his shoulders and said
And I never passed a cry for help
Though at times I shook with fear,
And sometimes, God forgive me,
I've wept unmanly tears.
I know I don't deserve a place
Among the people here.
They never wanted me around
Except to calm their fears.
If you've a place for me here,
Lord, It needn't be so grand,
I never expected or had too much,
But if you don't, I'll understand."
There was silence all around the throne
Where the saints had often trod
As the Soldier waited quietly,
For the judgment of his God.
"Step forward now, you Soldier,
You've borne your burden well.
Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets,
You've done your time in Hell."
Saravanan cannot walk, yet he gave so another may walk again By Frankie D'Cruz
Friday, April 10, 2026
Mutalib Mydin smiles at a gathering defined by compassion and shared purpose in a time of need. (Noorul Ariffin pic)
Free Malaysia Today : Bedridden Mutalib Mydin’s fight back gathers strength as a stricken race walking great pays forward a kindness he once received. PETALING JAYA: In a care home in Sungai Buloh, where former national cyclist Mutalib Mydin is beginning to rebuild his life, a quiet act of giving brought the room to a standstill.
G Saravanan, who is battling motor neuron disease, reached out to help him.
For a man who is unable to speak and stand, he still found a way to give.
Saravanan, one of Malaysia’s most celebrated race walkers, made a RM500 donation to Mutalib, the cyclist whose story of hardship and hope has stirred the nation in recent days.
It was not the size of the gift that mattered, but where it came from.
A year ago, Saravanan himself had been on the receiving end of kindness. National squash player Mohamed Kenneth Low, who is living with multiple sclerosis, had stepped forward to help him.
The gesture stayed with him.
Now, despite a body that has steadily failed him since his diagnosis in 2021, Saravanan chose to pass it on.
He is fed through a tube and communicates through an alphabet chart, spelling out his thoughts letter by letter. It is slow and painstaking, but it is still him.
His wife, M Sassikala, has become his voice.
“He understands everything that is happening around him,” she said. “When he heard about Mutalib, he was very clear. He wanted to help, even in his condition.
“This is who he has always been. Even now, when he has so little left physically, he still wants to give something to someone else.”
At the care home, Mutalib received that gesture with tears.
Days earlier, he had been lifted out of isolation in Kampung Bahagia Bukit Lagong, where he had lain bedridden for months after a stroke.
Now, he is in a place where he is being cared for, where rehabilitation has begun under the guidance of exercise physiologist CP Lee, and where hope has started to return.
But on this day, it was not therapy that defined the moment.
It was presence.
Among those who came to see him and made donations was Ridzuan Puzi, Malaysia’s first Paralympic athletics gold medallist, whose own journey has been shaped by resilience.
He arrived with badminton great Foo Kok Keong, hockey stalwart S Selvaraju and several other well-wishers, each offering their own contribution.
Also present were Megat Shahriman Zaharudin, the president of the Malaysian Paralympic Council and Noorul Ariffin whose intervention had changed the course of Mutalib’s life just days earlier.
There were no formalities, just a quiet understanding among those who had, in their own way, carried the nation’s hopes.
Mutalib listened as the visit unfolded, then nodded slowly, as if recognising something familiar.
The instinct of an athlete who never quite lets go.
Once, he had powered Malaysia to SEA Games gold, driving himself to glory with relentless force. Today, his race is different, measured not in seconds but in small, fragile gains.
Yet in that room, surrounded by those who had come forward, he was no longer defined by what he had lost.
He was held up by what remained — respect, memory and brotherhood.
And in Saravanan’s gesture, perhaps the clearest reminder of all.
That even now, in failing bodies and silent rooms, they are still what they have always been: champions.