Thank You Mo Salah, Goodbye Liverpool

Woke up this morning to the news I think many of us knew was coming -- Mohamed Salah will be leaving Liverpool FC at the end of the 2025/26 season.

And yet... I didn’t feel shocked. Maybe because part of me had already said goodbye months ago, expecting it to happen during the January window.

What I did feel, though, was something heavier -- a quiet disappointment that’s been building all season. It’s hard to understand how a player who just helped deliver another Premier League title, while still producing extraordinary numbers, could be treated the way he has.

What makes it even harder to accept is the level of vitriol that’s been directed at him this season. Yes, by his own incredibly high standards, it may not have been his best year -- but to see Salah subjected to constant criticism, name-calling, and disrespect over a relatively below-par run is deeply unfair. This is a player who has carried the club for years, who has delivered time and again when it mattered most. To reduce all of that to a few difficult months feels not just harsh, but completely devoid of perspective and gratitude.

If anything, this past year has slowly changed how I see the club. I never imagined I’d feel this disconnected from something I’ve supported all my life. But watching how Salah has been handled -- by both the club and sections of the fanbase -- made that distance grow, week by week.

Eight incredible seasons. Relentless consistency. Total commitment. And yet, it somehow led to this.

It makes you question things. Is this really what supporting this club has become? Because even through the long, painful decades without a league title, I don’t remember a player being treated like this.

So yes, there’s sadness -- but also, strangely, a sense of closure. Salah leaving feels like the final chapter, not just for him, but for my own journey with the club.

That said, the memories will always stay. From the early days of following the team, to standing at Anfield, to witnessing that unforgettable Champions League trophy parade in 2019 --- those moments are part of me.

I’ll still go back to the classics. Watching Kenny Dalglish, Steven Gerrard, Ian Rush, and of course Salah, doing what they did best. I’ll revisit the stories, the matches, the history I’ve held onto for so long.

But that’s what it will be now -- history.

As for Salah... thank you. For the goals, the magic, the consistency, and the humility. A true legend of the game and an even better human being.

I genuinely believe we won’t see another like you -- not just in what you did on the pitch, but in who you were off it.

In Memoriam: Syed Muhammad Naquib Al-Attas (1931–2026)

Renowned scholar and thinker of contemporary Islamic civilization, Prof. Diraja Tan Sri Dr. Syed Muhammad Naquib Al-Attas, passed away on 8 March 2026 at the age of 95. A towering figure in Islamic philosophy, thought, and Malay civilization, his passing is a profound loss to the world of knowledge.

Born in 1931, he began his formative studies at the English College in 1946, and went on to become one of the most influential Islamic scholars of the modern era. His contributions include advancing the concept of the Islamization of knowledge, pioneering educational reform for Muslim communities, and producing seminal works on tasawuf, metaphysics, cosmology, philosophy, and Malay language and literature.

Among his most significant achievements is the theory of the Islamization of the Malay World, detailing the spread and influence of Islam throughout the Malay-Indonesian region. His ideas continue to shape scholarship on civilization, education, and Islamic thought, and his legacy will inspire generations to come.

His passing has drawn tributes from across the world. Yusuf Islam described Syed Naquib as a major inspiration behind the development of Islamic education initiatives, noting that his ideas on the Islamization of knowledge influenced the founding of the Islamia School in 1983 and shaped curriculum discussions following the 1977 World Conference on Muslim Education in Makkah.

Meanwhile, Prime Minister Datuk Seri Anwar Ibrahim paid tribute to him as one of the greatest intellectual figures of the modern Muslim world, whose seminal works -- including Islam and Secularism and Prolegomena to the Metaphysics of Islam -- challenged the secularisation of knowledge and laid the philosophical foundations for an Islamic worldview.

The intellectual legacy of Syed Muhammad Naquib Al-Attas will continue to influence discussions on civilisation, philosophy and Islamic education for generations to come. May his immense contributions to knowledge and thought always be remembered.

Hampstead, Keats, and Good Donuts

A couple of years ago today, after a long walk across Hampstead Heath, I stumbled upon a quiet literary gem -- Keats House.

It was one of those perfect London days: clear skies, crisp air, and the kind of slow wandering that leads to unexpected discoveries. I peeked inside the house and even picked up a book, but decided to skip the entrance fee and simply enjoy the moment from the outside.

For those who may not know, Keats House was once home to John Keats, one of England’s great Romantic poets. He lived there in the early 1800s and wrote some of his most famous works during that time, including parts of Ode to a Nightingale. Standing there, it’s easy to imagine the young poet walking the nearby heath, drawing inspiration from the same landscape.

The day ended on a perfect note — delectable donuts at a vegan café nearby, followed by a browse through the always-wonderful Daunt Books.

Sometimes the best travel memories aren’t the big attractions, but the little discoveries in between.

The Shah Alam Stadium: Goals, Glory & Bon Jovi

This pic popped up on my Facebook Memories -- March 2019. JDT had just beaten Selangor 4–2. It was probably the last time I watched a match at Shah Alam Stadium.

Fun fact: when the 80,000-capacity stadium officially opened in 1994, I was there with my uni mates -- among the first to sit on those shiny new seats. We didn’t quite realise then that we were witnessing the start of an era.

Marking that grand opening on 16.7.1994, fans were treated to a series of high-profile matches: Selangor vs Dundee United F.C., Leeds United F.C. vs Australia national under-23 team, and Selangor vs FC Bayern München. Among the stars on display was French striker Jean-Pierre Papin. At the time, it was the largest stadium in the region -- a true source of pride.

After that, I became a regular. Malaysia League matches, cup finals, international friendlies -- Shah Alam Stadium was the place to be. And of course, one of the best concerts I’ve ever attended: Bon Jovi live in 1995. Electric.

As we all know, in 2024, demolition works began to make way for the Shah Alam Sports Complex (KSSA) redevelopment project, which is expected to be fully completed by 2029.

End of an era. But what memories it gave us.

Peninsula: A Story That Hurts

 

I finally finished reading Peninsula by Rehman Rashid recently, and by sheer coincidence, a rather melancholic music score was playing in the background just as I closed the book. I’m not going to lie -- it was an enjoyable, thought-provoking read that quietly tore at me.

But before that, what took me so long to finally read this 2016 sequel by one of Malaysia’s finest writers?

Years ago, I had read its “prequel”, the magnum opus A Malaysian Journey, not long after it was published, and I was completely blown away by the vividness of his storytelling. Then, a couple of years ago, as part of my personal quest to revisit Malaysian books from years past, I hunted high and low for A Malaysian Journey, finally managed to secure a copy online, and read it again. Once more, I was floored.

Naturally, the next step was to read Peninsula. But being out of print for so long, it proved elusive — even in second-hand online markets. I finally stumbled upon a copy at Pustaka Raja Tun Uda in Shah Alam, quickly borrowed it, and read it slowly from cover to cover, savouring every story, every flourish of language, every emotion he managed to evoke.

For those unfamiliar, Peninsula: A Story of Malaysia is Rehman's deeply personal and political memoir about returning home and trying to make sense of the country he loved. Blending autobiography with history, he retraces his childhood, his career in journalism, and his marriage, while reflecting on pivotal national moments -- Independence, May 13, the New Economic Policy, and the rise of racial and religious politics. Through his eyes, Malaysia’s early promise gradually gives way to bureaucracy, cronyism, and widening divisions.

What eventually broke me was learning that he had written the book partly as a tribute to his ex-wife, Rosemarie. After her passing, Rehman shared a note on Facebook -- and the response, he said, was a strange mix of deep empathy and condemnation.

Curious, I went looking for that piece of writing. Here is part of it:

“Of course, I should have gone back to her as soon as the book was published. But then it took off so successfully, and she and I both knew me well enough to know that, wherever else we were in the world, I would only feel all the more that I belonged in Malaysia and nowhere else. So I feel now that our separation would have been inevitable, if for reasons very different from those for which marriages ordinarily end. And so Rosemarie went on, up & out into the world, while I…

…I, the biggest, saddest fool, gave up my angel for this country. Which is as much to say, for this hatred and contempt; this mediocrity and ignorance; this incompetence, cynicism and corruption. This religious arrogance and racial chauvinism; this vile mediaevalist barbarism.

I paid for my loyalty to Malaysia with everything good and decent that I had, only to be mocked and despised; to watch my profession usurped by “the right kind of Malay” regardless of literacy; to have my name smeared and reputation destroyed; and in the end to be hounded back to the very redoubt in the hills where I had written that book 23 years ago now, never again to write. Rosemarie never saw this place where I may now languish forgotten and ignored for the rest of my own days, and now she never will. I chose my love for my country over my love for her. Bad choice. Big mistake. My punishment has been a life of regret and insuperable loneliness.”

Rehman himself passed away just a year after Peninsula was published.

So if you haven’t yet, do read Peninsula.

Heartbreaking soundtrack optional.