Ten Years as an Indian in Malaysia: My Story

I came to Malaysia in 2016 as a student. Ten years later, I still find India here — in the food, the festivals and the friends who became family.

By Travel Treat Together14 April 20246 min read

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In 2016, I landed in Kuala Lumpur with two bags, a student visa and a lot of nerves. I was young. I did not know the city. I did not know a single person. My mom had packed enough pickles and snacks to feed a small village, and I remember thinking, “Why so much?”

Today, it is 2026. I am still here. I am not a student anymore. I have a job, a routine, and a favourite chai spot. Ten years went by very fast.

If you are an Indian in Malaysia, or you are planning to come, this story is for you. And if you just love travel stories, stay with me. I promise it is worth it.

The First Week: Missing Home Hard

Let me be honest. The first few weeks were not easy. Everything felt new. The weather was hot and wet. The roads, the language, the money, all different.

I used to call home every night. My mother would ask only one question: “Khana khaya?” (Did you eat?) And I would lie and say yes, even when I had eaten only plain bread.

Then one day, a classmate took me to a small restaurant. The waiter put a big green banana leaf in front of me. Rice, curries, papad, pickle, all on one leaf. I took one bite and my eyes got wet. It tasted like a Sunday at home.

That was my first lesson in Malaysia: Indian food in Malaysia is not just food. It is comfort.

Brickfields: A Little India in the Middle of KL

A few weeks later, I found Brickfields, also called Little India in Kuala Lumpur. If you ever visit, go in the evening.

The street smells of jasmine flowers and fresh sweets. Shops sell sarees, bangles and garlands. Old Tamil songs play from somewhere. Uncles sit outside and talk about cricket and politics, just like in my hometown.

I did not need a map after the first visit. My feet just knew the way. For many Indian students in Malaysia, this place is a small refill of home. Whenever I felt low, I took the train to Brickfields, bought some jalebi, and walked slowly. It worked every time.

Festivals Felt Less Lonely Than I Thought

The first Diwali away from home was hard. No family, no diyas, no mithai at the door.

But in Malaysia, Deepavali is a public holiday. Malls are full of lights. Friends from different religions called me and said, “Come to our open house.” I ate murukku, sweets and home-made curry at the house of a friend whose family I had met only once.

I was far from my own home, but nobody let me feel alone. That is the Malaysian way. Festivals here are not “yours” or “mine”. They are for everyone.

Batu Caves: When God Feels Close

I am not a very religious person. But I still remember my first visit to Batu Caves.

There are 272 colourful steps, a giant golden statue, and a cave temple at the top. Monkeys will try to steal your snacks (they are very smart, be careful!). During Thaipusam, thousands of people walk with milk pots and offerings. The sound of drums and prayers fills the air.

I stood there quietly and thought, “I am in another country, but this is my culture too.” It was a big moment for me.

Mamak Nights and Friends Who Became Family

If you live in Malaysia, you must learn one word: mamak. These are open restaurants run by Indian-Muslim families. They are open late, sometimes all night.

Roti canai, teh tarik, masala dosa, maggi goreng. After exams, after fights, after heartbreaks, after good news, we always ended up at the same table. Friends from India, Malaysia, Nepal, Africa, China. We talked for hours over one big dosa and cold drinks.

Those friends stood next to me when I was sick. They helped me move rooms. They came to my first job celebration. In ten years, I learned that home is not a place. Home is people.

From Student to Working Professional

Time moves fast. One day I was running to class with a heavy bag. Now I run to office with a laptop bag.

Life in Malaysia has changed me. I learned to live alone, handle money, deal with a bad boss and a good boss. I learned a little Malay too (terima kasih, sedap, boleh). I even learned to enjoy sambal. My mom does not believe it.

Sometimes at night, I look at the city lights from my window and smile. The scared boy from 2016 would not believe where I am today.

Ten Years Later: What I Know Now

Here is what a decade in Malaysia taught me:

You carry India with you. In your food, your festivals, your language, even your jokes.
Malaysia has a place for you. The Indian community here is big, warm and welcoming.
Be open. Say yes to new food, new friends and new places.
Call home. Even when you are busy. Especially when you are busy.

I came here for a degree. I stayed for a life. And every time I smell jasmine on a Brickfields street, or hear a Tamil song at a mamak, I smile and think: India never really left me.

Are you an Indian in Malaysia too? Tell me in the comments: what is the one thing from home you miss the most? And what did you find here that you did not expect?