Ramlah, his foster mother, whom he lovingly called “omak” – the Negeri Sembilan dialect word for mother – passed away on Dec 31, just a few months short of her 101st birthday.

For Makhanderan, who had already buried both his parents, losing Ramlah felt like losing a mother all over again.

This Mother’s Day, the loss feels especially heavy. For years, Makhanderan made it a point to buy Ramlah a gift for the occasion.

“Until today, I still feel sad. Sometimes, the tears just come,” he told FMT Lifestyle.

What made their relationship remarkable was that Makhanderan and Ramlah were of different races and religions.

Yet, over the years, the two formed a bond that went far beyond blood ties. Built on kindness, trust and genuine affection, their relationship reflected the everyday beauty of multicultural Malaysia.

Their story first captured public attention through a TikTok video posted by Ramlah’s son, economist Shazali Abu Mansor, last May.

The video showed Makhanderan and Ramlah chatting while enjoying a meal together, moving many Malaysians with the warmth of their relationship. To date, it has garnered 1.4 million views.

But long before their story touched hearts online, the bond between them had already been growing for years. Makhanderan first got to know Ramlah in the late 1990s when he began helping with odd jobs around the house while her children were at work.

As time went by, he began calling her “omak”, regarding her as his “mak angkat”.

As Makhanderan’s workplace was close to Ramlah’s home in Tampin, Negeri Sembilan, visiting her became a regular part of his routine. Before heading to work, he would often stop by her house for breakfast with her – usually roti canai, which she loved.

Ramlah, he added, enjoyed watching the news and would often chat with him about current issues. “She liked to talk about the increasing prices of everyday necessities,” said Makhanderan, 54.

Beyond breakfast, he also helped care for her home by cutting the grass, clearing drains and more. Sometimes, he would even cook rendang for Ramlah using her own recipe.

“The sweetest memories for me were eating together and chatting with her,” he said. Even now, months after her passing, he still keeps track of exactly how many days it has been since he lost her. He often visits her grave.

He described Ramlah as honest, loving and generous, recalling how she had helped him financially with his children’s education – a gesture of kindness he still holds close to his heart.

But beyond that, Ramlah also gave him something he had lost years earlier – a motherly presence. Their differences in race and religion, he added, never stood in the way of their friendship.

“She showed love to everyone, regardless of their background.”

Makhanderan, too, grew up with that same openness towards people from different backgrounds.

Raised in Kampung Melekek Luar, Melaka, he and his siblings were often cared for by a Malay neighbour while their parents worked as rubber tappers.

“She would help get us ready for school because my mother had to leave for work at 4am. After school, she would look after us until our mother came home,” he shared.

That neighbour eventually became another “mak angkat” in his life. Over the years, Makhanderan came to regard three Malay women – including Ramlah – as foster mothers.

But this year, Mother’s Day will feel especially different. Memories of Ramlah frequently return – the breakfasts they shared, their conversations and the familiar presence that once waited for him at the house in Tampin.

But amidst the sadness, there is also gratitude. “‘Omak’ taught me the importance of being humble, sincere, honest and trustworthy,” he said.

“I feel blessed to have known ‘omak”.