Be kind to others. You could be their saving grace.
“Guys… Nur has left us @ 2.20pm today”
I received this shocking news while I was in the middle of work on a Friday afternoon. I had to sit with myself for a while and process why I felt sadder than I thought I should’ve. I mean… he was just a boss, right?
No.
Nur was more than just a boss. Working with him didn’t feel like a transaction. He would share (crazy/funny/silly) stories of his daughter, ex-wife, ex-girlfriends, wife, friends, what he was like when he was younger, and his life. I’ve even seen his daughter grow up and saw his relationship with Melissa evolve from girlfriend to fiancee to wife.
He felt like a friend, comedian, and cheerleader rolled into one. He had this larger than life personality and was usually happy-go-lucky. If I had to compare, he was like a Malaysian Robin Williams. Instead of going into entertainment, his career path led him into the world of design and entrepreneurship.
I worked with him twice in my career. First at his creative agency, then later at a tech startup co-founded with his cousin and 2 other cool cats that have done amazing things since then. He was one of those rare bosses that knew how to make work fun, and he was the first boss to ever do that for me despite having other bosses before him.
He always had a joke or funny anecdote on hand to whip out and have the whole room laughing. I don’t think I’ve ever known him to be someone negative. Even if he did have something negative to say, I think he usually put a humorous spin to it.
I feel like if he was at his own funeral and burial, he probably would’ve found a way to inject some humour. Passing away on 21–01–2022 at 02:20 PM? He’d probably use that as one last joke. Something to do with those silly e-commerce sales & marketing gimmicks that Lazada and Shoppee love. You know which ones I’m talking about — 11.11, 12.12, 1.1, 2.2, and so on.
There were definitely times when I’d been frustrated with him because of work. Still… it’s ironically overshadowed by the feeling that he brought more light into a room than darkness. He always meant well, and he knew how to lift people up instead of bringing them down.
I thought I had figured everything out with this first revelation, but I still felt a heaviness in my heart that I couldn’t shake off. Why was I still crying or feeling depressed by the news? Sure, it was shocking and sad, but I felt so low that I couldn’t even concentrate on work.
I decided to distract myself by switching between three different activities:
- Informing others who hadn’t heard the news
- Figuring out where I could pay my last respects
- Stressing out about Islamic funeral/burial etiquette and COVID-19 SOPs
After some time, the distractions weren’t enough. It really bothered me that I hadn’t fully unpacked how I was feeling. It had to be more than just realising Nur was more than just a boss and loving his jovial attitude. I think I even said to myself, “Dig deeper, Laura”, because I knew there had to be a more meaningful reason.
I was in the middle of walking around the house while processing my thoughts when two realisations hit me all at once, stopping me dead in my tracks.
The first realisation was simple. Working for Nur introduced me to so many other beautiful souls that I’ve had the pleasure of working with and being friends with to this day. Some of them have helped me during tough times too.
The second realisation was a little complex. The second time I worked for Nur was when I was still recovering from why I left Singapore.
I’ve never publicly shared the real reason before because it’s awkward, uncomfortable and painful to think of — even now as I write this. It’s like picking open a wound and bleeding out. A lot of bad memories and feelings resurface. I’m reminded of how hard I had to work to pull myself out of that darkness, and I feel intense shame whenever I think of that dark period in my life. Sharing the reason “outs” me in a professional way, but I’m tired of being ashamed. I also think I’m too old not to live my truth.
Whenever I was asked why I left my job in Singapore, I used to say it was because I had broken up with my boyfriend. I came back to Malaysia because it got “complicated”.
The real reason? I was recovering from major depression and attempted suicide. It affected my work, and I was eventually let go. I couldn’t get another job, so I came back to Malaysia. I hated myself and my life. I felt like a useless, worthless person and broke up with my boyfriend over text — he didn’t deserve a burden like me.
I spent almost an entire year at home being a recluse. When I finally managed to pull myself out of depression, I got my act together and got a job. That job wasn’t suitable for me, and in hindsight, it didn’t really aid my healing process or bring back my confidence. Sure, I functioned as a normal human being on the surface, but it was superficial. It felt like I could easily slip back into a downward spiral.
I was in that job for three months until Nur contacted me out of the blue and told me about an exciting new opportunity I may be interested in. I left that job to join him at a startup called Joota.
I don’t think I would’ve fully recovered if it wasn’t for the joy I felt while working there. I spent around two years working with a team of intelligent, fun, and kind people. I feel like the person I was when I joined Joota and the person I was when I left were two very different people.
I believe those two years in Joota allowed me to slowly heal because my environment was generally filled with laughter and exciting new experiences. I thrived.
That wouldn’t have happened if Nur had never contacted me again or if I hadn’t known or worked with him before. When I first met him, I was a naive 21-year-old. When I joined Joota, I was a fragile 24-year-old, and when I left, I was a more resilient person at 26.
When I realised how integral he was in improving my mental health and self-confidence, I gasped on a sob, and tears immediately gushed down my face. This second revelation came at me hard and fast, like a slap in the face.
I’ve kept in contact with him since I left Joota, and I don’t think there are any people from when I was 21 that I’ve kept in touch with like I did with him (not counting childhood friends). That’s 13 years of knowing someone beyond a superficial level.
After reading through some of our recent messages on Whatsapp (the last on 29 June 2021), it’s evident that he was incredibly generous with his time. He helped me even if he didn’t have to, even if it was in a small way. I’m sure he had a better use for his time, but he helped anyway.
Nur, you were my saving grace and have forever left an impression on me. Your legacy is a reminder to me to always surround myself with people that bring light into my life and to be a person that lifts people up instead of bringing them down.
Thank you for your generosity, your light and your time. It’s been an honour and a pleasure knowing you. I’m sure you’re riding around in a blue Mini Cooper, organising the movie nights you’re well known for, jamming on your guitar, and relishing in the fact that everything is pixel-perfect in Jannah. ❤️
In Memoriam
Nur-Ruhizan bin Noh
1962–2022
“I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” ― Maya Angelou
