TWO days ago, superstar Rajinikanth walked back into our cinemas, not just to entertain, but to remind us why we have loved him for decades.
In Coolie, he teams up with director Lokesh Kanagaraj to deliver the kind of swagger only he can – the sunglasses flip, the slow-motion walk and that unmissable en vazhi, thani vazhi – “my way is a unique way”.
For Rajini, that way has always meant standing up for the little guy, no matter how big the villain.
In Coolie, Rajini plays Deva, a port worker who takes on big-time crooks – smugglers and corrupt bosses – the sort of people who think ordinary lives are expendable.
It is action, drama and a generous serving of Rajini’s trademark style – the full meal set. But beyond the fights and punchlines, Coolie is a story about rising when the odds are stacked against you. And right now, that spirit feels deeply familiar in Malaysia.
Because truth be told, we are surrounded by our own Devas every day. They may not have stunt doubles or slow-motion entrances but they carry the weight of this country on their shoulders.
They are the makcik still selling nasi lemak at RM1 so her customers don’t go hungry, even when she is barely breaking even. The uncle at the kopitiam who holds off raising his kopi-o prices because he knows his regulars are already counting coins. The cikgu who uses her own duit to buy books for children whose parents can’t afford them. The abang rider who braves rain and traffic to get your lunch to you, then quietly heads to his next job.
These people don’t make headlines. They have no fan clubs or hashtags. But without them, the country doesn’t run.
Rajinikanth has always been more than just an actor; he is the people’s man – a superstar who somehow makes you feel like you have met him in person.
When Kabali hit screens in 2016, Brickfields turned into a street carnival. Children wore Kabali T-shirts with pride and people spoke about the film as if it were a cousin’s wedding. Why? Because Kabali was not just a gangster flick; it was our story about dignity, breaking free from society’s labels and fighting for something bigger than ourselves.
Malaysia could use more of that energy right now. We talk endlessly about unity but unity is not built on hashtags, government ads or corporate slogans. Unity is built in kitchens, where roti canai and kaya toast share the same table. It is when neighbours check in on each other when the lights go out. It is a Chinese uncle pulling out a chair for a Malay makcik at the morning market without a second thought. It is the small, ordinary acts that say, “I see you and stand with you”.
That is what Deva stands for in Coolie. Maybe that is what Rajini is nudging us to remember – that heroism is not about being the loudest, richest or most powerful; it is about being the one who stays, helps and lifts. It is about carrying people with you, even when it slows you down.
Here is the thing: Rajini’s heroes don’t just fight villains; they fight systems – those invisible structures that make life harder for the ones already struggling.
We know these systems all too well – the small trader squeezed by rising costs, the graduate trying to find a job in a crowded market or the Orang Asli village waiting years for basic infrastructure. The fight is the same: you either give up or you find your vazhi – your own way.
Since Thursday, cinemas from Penang to Johor have echoed with whistles, claps and cheers. The action scenes will get the adrenaline pumping, the comedy will make us laugh and the songs will follow us all the way home. But the real question is: Will we carry the message past the popcorn?
The truth is, Malaysia does not need more big-screen heroes; we need coolies of the heart – people willing to do the heavy lifting of empathy, community and courage. People who show up, even when no one is watching. People who know that progress is not about how far you run ahead but how many you bring along.
The beauty of en vazhi, thani vazhi is that it’s not about selfishness; it is the refusal to let the world shrink your dreams or limit your compassion. It is about carving your path and making sure it is wide enough for others to walk beside you.
So here is my challenge: the next time you see someone struggling, don’t just sympathise, step in. Pay for a stranger’s meal without making a fuss. Check on your elderly neighbour. Offer a lift to a colleague stuck in the rain. Be the Deva in someone’s story.
At its core, Coolie is not just about Deva taking down smugglers; it is about refusing to look away when someone’s being pushed down. It is about that mamak waiter who steps in when a customer bullies a staff, the neighbour who brings rasam when all your family members are down with the flu and the strangers who form a human chain to save a flood victim.
One day, when we look back, we won’t remember which movie broke the records; we will remember the times we stood up for each other – at the pasar, kampung and the city. If a superstar from Chennai can spark that spirit in us, then maybe Malaysia’s biggest hit is yet
to come.
Hashini Kavishtri Kannan is the assistant news editor at theSun. Comments: letters@thesundaily.com