The 60th MIC general assembly could be considered a 'special assignment' during my two-month internship with malaysiakini . I had asked the editor for permission to cover the event since I harbour a passion for politics.

It was a historic occasion - not only for MIC - but for the Indian Malaysian community and not to forget, myself, as well. The highlight was the contest between the then incumbent but now former deputy president S Subramaniam and the then challenger but now deputy president G Palanivel.

Despite my enthusiasm, I arrived about 30 minutes late. As I made my way into the Putra World Trade Centre (PWTC) assembly hall, party president S Samy Vellu was already delivering his speech. I could not help but notice how jovial the veteran politician appeared.

His words were met by thunderous applause from the delegates, and a reporter next to me whispered: "They (the delegates) will use their legs to clap if they get tired of using their hands."

After Samy Vellu finished, Prime Minister Abdullah Ahmad Badawi took to the stage. Forty-five minutes later, there I was, Selvam Arjunan a final-year journalism student from Universiti Sains Malaysia standing just inches away from the country's top leader who was holding a press conference.

As I inched closer with my notebook and little digital camera in hand, a voice rang out: "Hey boy, where are you from? Don't block us with your small camera lah ."

" Malaysiakini . I also want to get the best photos," I replied.

Peeved journalists

Next came the most awaited moment - the election.

There were murmurs of discontent among the media representatives when the election committee chairperson requested us to leave the hall to ensure that the polls proceed smoothly.

"This is the man who told us to be here to see that the election is carried out fairly but he is asking us to leave now," complained one journalist.

But Samy Vellu came to our rescue and allowed us to remain in the hall albeit for only 30 minutes. He also got the journalists chairs, which he personally arranged.

As the delegates cast their ballots, I wandered into the media room and it was pandemonium: journalists sending stories, the organiser being toasted for setting up a single Internet connection, complaints about the refreshments and heated political discussions.

As I journeyed further, I bumped into a Palanivel supporter doubling as an election pundit.

"I bet, Palani will get 900 votes. Above that, it's a bonus. Subra will struggle to reach 500 even. Take my number. Call me if the results do not tally with my prediction," he said.

After the voting ended, veteran freelance journalist Baradan Kuppusamy, who was covering the elections for malaysiakini , instructed me to mingle with the delegates and leaders. I dutifully followed.

But my socialising was slightly affected by the malaysiakini press tag dangling from my neck. Some appeared cautious when I approached while others wanted to know if malaysiakini would know the results before the it was officially announced.

Around 4pm, the results for the central working committee leaked and malaysiakini flashed the news even before the candidates themselves knew.

But the tension surrounded the contest for deputy presidency and by about 6pm, rumours of a Palanivel victory began to spread. Despite no official confirmation, the celebrations kicked off. Delegates formed a beeline to shake the hands and congratulate the president and his chosen one.

Get the quotes!

My phone rang. Hello? "Find Subra, be with him until the official announcement is made. The moment after the announcement is made, you get his comments and inform me. That's your work," came Baradan's orders.

I ran north, south, east and west but Subramaniam was nowhere in sight. I informed Baradan about my predicament but he was not pleased.

"Whatever it is, you must find him. Come to me with his words. If he's not there, go to his house in Damansara ...". Click, the line when dead.

Damansara? Where is that? I am from Sungai Petani, Kedah.

As I began to curse myself for volunteering for this assignment, Subramaniam walked into the hall and I breathed a sigh of relief.

But he refused to comment and I told Baradan, who in turn, told me: "Go and get Palanivel's comments now. Tell him that your editor is rushing you to meet the deadline."

Off I went. Palanivel was surrounded by a sea of journalists and as I sat there pondering on how to get near, he looked at me and said: "What? Come here."

I made my way through the crowd but he refused to comment. "Please, I need your comments. Just two lines are enough. I cannot go back without your comment," I implored, thinking of Baradan at that precise moment.

Palanivel smiled. "I understand your situation, tell your editor that I'll comment later. I will see you after the official announcement."

With beads of sweat on my forehead, I informed Baradan and to my surprise he took it rather well. "After the official announcement, get both their comments," he said.

I ran back to Subramaniam, who was seated with a smile. "Why are you here instead of being with the winning side?" he asked.

A great experience

The announcement finally came: Palanivel, 935 votes, and Subramaniam, 495. There was celebration in one corner and mourning at the other. The place was lit-up by camera flashes.

I got Subramaniam's comments and bolted towards Palanivel, who was surrounded by at least 100 supporters. I couldn't even get close.

At that point, the thought of facing Baradan with an uncompleted mission drove me to do the unthinkable. I climbed up onto the tables placed on the stage and walked towards him. All eyes were upon me.

"Please comment on your victory," I asked him and Palanivel smiled. He gave me a few quotes while his supporters shouted at me for pulling such a stunt. "Good luck, boy," wished the new deputy president as I made my way down.

I found Baradan and presented my quotes beaming with pride.

The MIC elections was a bittersweet event. Palanivel and his supporters returned home in a festive mood while for the deposed Subra and his men, it was a day of sadness.

For me, it was a day of journalistic maturity and the experience gathered will be treasured forever.

SELVAM ARJUNAN, 21, is a third-year student at Universiti Sains Malaysia's School of Communication.