NIRMALAH THURAI

 

NIRMALAH THURAI

Today is Nirmalah’s birthday.

Since I was 27 years old, almost 35 years ago, I have never failed to wish Nirmalah a happy birthday. Her birthday, 8 October, falls on the same day as my second sister’s birthday. It has always been a date I remember.

I first got to know Nirmalah when we were working at Nestlé. I was then a young executive in the Nescafé team, while Nirmalah was our Market Research Manager.

She was one of the smartest people I have ever met. Exceptionally brilliant, yet generous with her knowledge and nurturing towards those who wanted to learn.

I quickly recognised that I had someone special to learn from, and I took the opportunity to make her my mentor and teacher.

Almost every week, I would try to steal an hour of her time to learn about market research. For nearly two years, while I was based at the head office, I benefited enormously from her generosity in teaching me, sharing books and showing me how to understand, interpret and write research reports.

She taught me so much about market research, from Usage and Attitude (U&A) studies and focus group interviews to understanding both qualitative and quantitative research. She guided me on how to write good research briefs, the dos and don’ts of interpreting research findings, and how to critically evaluate what research agencies presented to us. Most importantly, she taught me never to rely solely on executive summaries, but to dig into the raw data, study the details, identify patterns, question assumptions and draw my own conclusions. She taught me not just how to read research, but how to think like a researcher.

Nirmalah was always willing to teach. But there was one thing you had to remember: she was a stickler for time. If we agreed to meet at 12 noon, I had better be there at 12 noon!

But Nirmalah was much more than a brilliant market research specialist. She had all the qualities of a great leader and was clearly Managing Director material.

In fact, at one point in her career, despite already being a senior manager, she deliberately took several steps down to learn sales from the ground up, taking on the responsibilities of a sales executive covering a territory. That was Nirmalah. She was never afraid to start again, learn something new and challenge herself. She eventually rose through the ranks to become a Country Manager.

Nirmalah had that rare ability to see the big picture while understanding how all the little details fitted together. She understood people, knew how to manage them and, more importantly, how to bring out the best in them.

She was exceptionally organised, disciplined and never wasted time. She spoke very fast, but always with clarity and conviction. Her mind was constantly working, asking questions, challenging assumptions and exploring different ways of looking at things.

And her energy was infectious! The zest, enthusiasm and passion with which she spoke could make even an ordinary conversation exciting. She had a way of making you want to think harder, aim higher and get things done.

That was Nirmalah. Not just someone who was exceptionally intelligent, but someone who could inspire others to become better versions of themselves.

I am certainly not alone in seeing Nirmalah this way. Many who knew her, worked with her or had the privilege of calling her a friend would attest to this. In fact, I am sure many have even more wonderful stories to tell about her. Beyond her exceptional intelligence, sharp wit and clarity of thought, Nirmalah was also funny, warm and great company. Even an ordinary conversation with her could be both intellectually stimulating and full of laughter.

For me, Nirmalah was never just a former colleague or a friend. She was my mentor, my teacher and someone who inspired me in so many ways. Much of what I learned from her all those years ago has stayed with me to this day.

In fact, throughout the years, I have often shared Nirmalah’s story in my classes when teaching leaders, managers and young talents. I have always cited her as a role model, especially her willingness to take a few steps down in her career so that she could move further ahead. Her story is one of my favourite examples of how sometimes, to move forward in life, we must first be willing to take a step back. It takes humility, courage and the willingness to learn. Nirmalah demonstrated all three, and I continue to use her example to inspire others.

Nirmalah passed away last month, and I will miss her dearly. Especially on 8 October, a day when, for almost 35 years, I would make it a point to be among the first to send her a birthday greeting.

Today, for the first time in all those years, I can no longer send her that message.

Happy birthday, Nirmalah.

We will miss you.

Love, peace.

Anas Zubedy