Reflections on a decade of writing, living, and growing

As I sit down to write this column, my final one for the year 2024, a whirlwind of emotions stirs within me.

This year marks a significant milestone—a decade since I began writing for The Star. A journey that started in 2014 has brought me here, at the close of a tumultuous, rewarding, and life-altering ten years.

In 2014, my former colleague and now dear friend Johan Hulaimi - staunch supporter throughout this journey - invited me to write for the paper.

It was an offer I could not refuse. Writing has been my passion since my school days—a way to give form to thoughts, explore emotions, and articulate aspirations. Writing is, after all, a mirror to the soul.

My first piece in 2014, reflected my then-political world. It focused on the cooperation between MCA and Gerakan that helped former Gerakan president Datuk Seri Mah Siew Keong win the Teluk Intan by-election.

That victory was deeply personal for me, as I had championed the cause as Datuk Seri Mah's political secretary. I vividly remember how it all culminated in a joint MCA-Gerakan rally at Wisma MCA in Kuala Lumpur ahead of the 2018 general election. These moments felt like the apex of my political career.

For much of the first half of this column’s decade, my writing revolved around defending the Barisan Nasional government and the then-Prime Minister, Datuk Seri Najib Tun Razak.

My candour did not sit well with those who disagreed with me politically, and some were very nasty in their criticism. However, I did not waver because I have always believed that we can disagree while remaining civil. This principle guided me through times of intense scrutiny and backlash, and I remained steadfast in my commitment to defending what I believed was right, even when it was unpopular.

However, life, much like politics, is unpredictable. Barisan's loss in 2018 brought profound changes—not only for the nation but also for me personally.

With the political shift, I found myself out of a job and stepping away from active politics—a promise I made to myself and have faithfully kept. I decided to practice law and I do not regret it.

After a brief hiatus, I returned to writing, this time focusing on holding the new Pakatan Harapan government accountable. My candour did not win me universal approval, but I stood firm in my belief that truth must be spoken to power, no matter who wields it.

When the pandemic struck, my writing slowed. Life, however, surged ahead with dramatic changes. I got married, welcomed my first child, and now my second. The joys of fatherhood have been immense, but these years were also shadowed by sorrow. Losing my father was a heartbreak that left a permanent void in my life. I wrote about him in this column—a tribute to the man who shaped so much of who I am.

Life, I have come to realise, is a perfect maelstrom of emotions—joy and grief, elation and despair, triumphs and losses.

The good and the bad come in waves, sometimes so closely intertwined that we barely have time to process them. It is in this storm of emotions that we grow, finding strength in resilience and solace in gratitude.

2024 has been an especially prolific year for my writing. I have covered issues close to my heart, keeping Johan busy with edits and suggestions. The most rewarding part has been the occasional recognition from readers who approach me with words of encouragement. "You are that Ivanpal who writes for The Star," they say, with a smile.

These moments remind me why I write—not for fame or recognition, but to connect, to provoke thought, and to leave a small mark in the tapestry of public discourse.

As I reflect on this journey, I am acutely aware that I could not have come this far without my family. My mother, Harwinder, is the matriarch of our family and the epitome of grace under fire.

Abraham Lincoln once said, “All that I am or ever hope to be, I owe to my angel mother,” and I understand those words deeply. My wife, Natasha, is a warrior who gave up so much to build a home and life with me. Her strength and unwavering support have been my anchor. My mother-in-law, Redyance, raised Natasha to be the remarkable woman she is today, and I am eternally grateful for her love and resilience.

My sisters Jesrina and Karina have also been an integral part of my journey. Despite the inevitable ups and downs of relationships, we have come to appreciate the unbreakable bond of family. They have been blessed with wonderful partners, Shailender and Terence, who are more than brothers-in-law—they are family.

And then there are my children, Aaliyah and Aryaan, who light up my world with their innocence and wonder. They compel me to strive to be a better version of myself, so they can inherit a world of possibilities. My nieces, Anaayah and Alania, and nephews, Shayaan, Arshaan, and Riaan, are full of promise. Watching them grow is a constant reminder of life’s endless potential.

As I close this chapter of 2024, my heart is heavy yet hopeful. This year has brought profound loss with the passing of my father, but also immense joy with the birth of my son.

It is a bittersweet conclusion to a year that has challenged and uplifted me in equal measure. Through it all, I am reminded of my favourite poet, Nazim Hikmet, who said, “Our best days have yet to be lived.” These words resonate deeply, offering comfort and inspiration as I step into the future.

To my readers, thank you for accompanying me on this journey over the past decade. Your support, feedback, and even your critiques have enriched my writing and strengthened my resolve. As I sign off on this final piece of the year, I carry with me the hope that my reflections have, in some way, resonated with yours.

Here is to a new year filled with untold stories, unimagined joys, and the promise of better days.