MALAYSIANSKINI | It would not be a stretch to say that A Muraly's life story plays out like a Bollywood movie.

An angry young man ends up on the wrong side of the law, lands behind bars for six years, then sees the light at the end of the tunnel and, upon his release from prison, gives back to the society he "once took so much from".

The 47-year-old businessperson now runs a non-governmental organisation (NGO) called "Tamilan Uthavum Karangal" (Tamilan Helping Hands), which extends help to the poor, the underprivileged, as well as disabled people. The NGO has 700 members nationwide, including some ex-convicts, who like Muraly, have turned over a new leaf.

If there is one thing that Muraly is worried sick about now, it is the direction that Indian youths are heading in - a life of violence and crime, something he is familiar with. There needs to be a concerted effort made by the relevant authorities and society to put a stop to this problem, he says, "before it is too late".

Muraly dropped out of school when he was in Form Five, and his first run-in with the law occurred when he was just 19, in 1990.

In his own words, Muraly recalls his life before, inside, and after prison.

IT WAS A MOMENT OF ANGER that triggered that incident which would ultimately cause me to spend six years in jail under the Emergency Ordinance (EO). I was helping my father at the family's meat stall in the Selayang market when I stabbed a trader due to a misunderstanding. What happened was my cousin brother came running to me saying that the said trader, had "punched me", and I, without thinking, grabbed a knife, walked straight to the trader and without bothering to find out what had happened, stabbed him in the stomach.

That man ended up in the Intensive Care Unit and I went into hiding, as both the police and the victim's friends were looking for me. Only later, while on the run, did I find out that the victim had not "punched" my brother, but had "punched" his lorry, asking him to reverse it. At the very moment he told me this, I realised I had screwed up.

But that did not change my lifestyle, as the look of "fear" I saw in the eyes of traders when I eventually went back to the market motivated me further to maintain a violent lifestyle. I was involved in fights, and committed acts of violence with my friends, upon the slightest provocation. Two years later, in 1992, the long arm of the law eventually caught up with me.

I WAS BRANDED 'KETUA SAMSENG' (CHIEF THUG) by the police and sent to Pulau Jerejak. Then I was transferred to Simpang Renggam. What was supposed to have been a two-year-detention under the Emergency Ordinance, was extended twice to be six years, as I got involved in fights while in detention.

I even beat up an inspector once after he disturbed me while I was praying. That particular incident earned me a “royal beating” from a group of policemen, and they threw me into solitary confinement.

For close to a week I could not move my limbs, let alone stand up. I would be lying down in the dark, cold room and when they passed me food, I would crawl to the plate and eat with my mouth, like a dog.

THE SOLITARY CONFINEMENT LASTED SIX MONTHS after the prison's director decided that I was too "dangerous" to be in the main cell block. It was during those days of loneliness that I started to ponder, "What the heck have I done with my life?".

Although the prison's director kept me off the main cells, he promised to provide what I needed, and I asked for books to read. I was given about 30 books, which included the memoirs of Nelson Mandela and the biography of Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam founder Velupillai Prabagaran.

I read them and their life stories got me thinking about why I had been born into this world, with perfectly working limbs, and yet, not done anything good for society.

I WAS RELEASED FROM PRISON IN 1998 and as I made my way back to my home in Petaling Jaya from Simpang Renggam, I could not recognise my hometown, and could not even pinpoint the house I was born and raised in.

When I eventually found my house, the reception I got from my own parents was cold, and in the days that followed, I used to lock myself in my room and not interact with my family, and not even eat.

I also found out that they eavesdropped on calls for me that came on the house phone, as they were worried about who I was mixing with. I was 28 then. I had no job, no money, nothing, but deep in my heart, I had the burning desire to do something good.

THE TURNING POINT CAME IN BATU CAVES, when one day while pondering his next move in life at the foot at the temple, I saw a wheelchair-bound man praying.

I called four of my friends there and together, we carried the man up the 272 steps, right up to the main temple inside the cave. The gratitude displayed by the man when he finally got to see the main temple, I cannot describe in words.

The following year (1999), I mobilised 200 men to carry 50 wheelchair-bound people up the Batu Caves temples stairs, in conjunction with my father's 50th birthday. On that day, I saw him shed tears of joy, when previously, I had only seen him cry as I was being arrested.

Also, when I was carrying a female devotee down from the temple, she too, shed tears, saying that despite her having come to the temple multiple times, and her being from a well-to-do family, no one had taken the initiative to get her to see the main temple in the cave.

As she held my hand and thanked me, her tears fell on my hand, and that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand.

It was at that very moment that I realised that God had sent me into this world with perfectly functioning limbs not to chop others' limbs, but to use them for good purposes like this. The wheelchair-carrying exercise has become an annual affair and we have been doing it without fail, for 18 years now.

'Stay off violence'

Muraly spent 10 years after 1999 working in Singapore, and now runs a meat-packing business in Petaling Jaya. He is married with two children and has stayed off crime for good. Where machetes and knives once adorned the shelves in his home, there are now hundreds of books, which he still makes a point to read, up to several a day.

Despite his rage-filled days, Muraly is glad that he did not pick up smoking or drinking alcohol - the latter of which he believes is a cause of violence among the majority of Indian youths. He says the authorities should weed out incidences of crime at its very root, when the youths are in their early teens.

"The age of 13 or 14 is when a youth is the most vulnerable to peer pressure, and is bound to get influenced into a life of crime. This is where parenting and schools should play a part by advising and counselling problematic youths. It is better to build the wall before the flood comes, rather than trying to contain the flood after the deluge," he said.

Besides his business and NGO work, Muraly and his NGO members also give talks at schools and colleges, urging youths to stay off crime.

"I use real-life examples to state my case. I tell them that they wouldn't possibly resort to shoplifting or stealing if they knew a CCTV was watching them at a shop. The same applies to life, I tell them, in which the biggest CCTV, God, is watching our every move. You do good, you get good in return," he said.

"The involvement of youths, especially Indians, in crime, worries me. We (Indians) are the minority in the country, but we are the majority in prisons. My tips for youths - if you have a problem with someone, talk and settle it first, don't "settle" and talk later," he quipped, referring to the act of finishing off someone.

Muraly also opines that prisons are not a proper means of rehabilitation for criminals, as most of them end up with more contacts in the criminal world and becoming more "violent" than ever before.

"Families, schools, the police and even politicians, should play their respective parts in curbing violence among youths," he said.

On how he would best summarise his style of weaning problematic youths off crime and violence, Muraly says: "Simple, I just tell them they can end up in a life of crime in four ways - being stabbed, shot, imprisoned, or in the morgue. If they don't mind any of that, I advise them to at least buy an insurance policy so that their families can benefit after they are gone."

One of the members in Muraly's NGO is S Ramesh, 35, who got into a life of crime, aged just 14.

However, unlike Muraly, who escaped physically unscathed with no permanent reminders of years of living dangerously, Ramesh lacks part of his left hand, and his right is severely deformed - no thanks to the doing of his "rivals" after he was released from a preventive detention stint in 2009.

"I was hoping to re-integrate into society and live a straight life, when they came and chopped my hands off. Now, with my physical condition and 'black record', I can't get a job anywhere," he lamented.

However, Ramesh admitted that he now feels "useful" after having joined Muraly's NGO for a few months.

"Now, I can drive a car and even a motorbike. I get to go around and meet a lot of people, and even give talks to youths to stay off crime.

"It is easy for me to place the blame on my rivals for my current condition, but I won't do that. I know what I am today is totally my doing, as I did not study well when I was supposed to, and got involved in crime. I just hope I can secure a full-time job and make a meaningful living," he said.

MALAYSIANS KINI is a series on Malaysians you should know.

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