As I sit and type this, tears roll down my cheeks. Timothy sir was a mentor, a father figure, and my guide. My inner wicked mind says, " Wish this had happened a week later, for I could have been there in person, wishing him goodbye.
Where do I even start?
I had just had a big failure in my life, narrowly missing a civil service seat. Had only recently lost my mom to cancer, and suddenly, through all the mayhem of my life, I had gotten married. Before I even realised what had hit me, I was in Vellore. A few months went by when I thought I would try to redo the civil service exams, sitting in a lonely room, brooding all the time as the wifey started her strenuous postgraduations. Then, one day, I decided I had to look for a job, and my life couldn't go on like this. My dad suggested meeting Dr.Shah, and Dr.Shah suggested I meet Timothy sir. I had no clue what I was getting into. All I wanted was a job. And God, in his wisdom, through the next few years, gave me a life beyond my wildest dreams.
For the next two-plus years, he was my boss, friend, philosopher and guide. From discussing demonetisation to micro schools to running mission organisations to running the country, everything under the sun was discussed threadbare.
Apologies, Nishant and Abigail, those two years, I was also his son. Albeit adopted! But he took me in as one.
He restored my losing confidence. He gave me back the wings that I badly needed, that I had almost lost. He taught me never to settle for anything small, for in Distance education during those years we only thought big. We wanted to train Indian doctors, Indian nurses and Indian missionaries to address the health needs of India, and we wanted them all. Ambition wasn't something we learnt; he had it engraved in our genetic code. He taught us to think big. Whatever else he inherited, the gene for thinking small skipped him. As I began to understand him better, I learnt faith in God was his fulcrum; thinking big was simply the lever resting on it.
Then there was the small thing called 'work ethic'; Man, oh man, did he set the example for that. Work was all he thought about, and a relentless work ethic became second nature to him. Working for him meant chasing a man who never slowed down. To get ahead of him, you had to run faster than you thought you could. Yet, strangely, he made work ethic enjoyable. I remember in one season when 2 or3 senior staff quit around the same time; he warmly told me that he trusted me to pull it through till we got them replaced. Those words then helped me pull up my sock, and we did pull through those difficult days.
Oh yes, I have to bring this up, because the single most important thing I learnt from him was his willingness to play second fiddle. Being married to a rockstar of a woman is not easy for any man, and harder still when both are working in the same field. Timothy Sir pulled it off with aplomb. He made sure his wife got the glory. He stood on the sidelines and clapped, never wanting any of it for himself. And this from a man who never thought small. A lesson for life, sir!
How long can this blog go? I ask myself! Coz I can write essays on him. From his hate for dogs, to his practical tips on parenting, to his advice on driving, to his never-ending passion for the country, the stories could go on and on and on. But I will stop with just one more, which defined the man, he was.
We had just moved to a new office. Right opposite it, on the main road, a man lay beside the open drain: half naked, and possibly mentally ill. One more of the thousands of destitute people we walk past on Indian roads every day. Timothy sir kept telling me to go and talk to him, to find out where he was from. I hesitated. Twice. Thrice. Perhaps more. I always had an excuse ready. Then one day I looked out and saw Timothy sir himself, sitting by the drain, talking to the man. He came back with the man's story. "We will have to find his family," he said. There he goes again, I thought. How do you trace the relatives of a man who has no address? To my surprise (though why was I surprised?), he found them. And he made sure they at least visited the man once; I don't remember them taking him back home, though.
That story, in a nutshell, is who Timothy sir was.
Just a few days before the final goodbye, he asked me to attend a conference; The lazy gene in me had other reasons not to. I wish I had gone, for he had presented some of his ideas and works there. If only he had told me that he was presenting! If only!
When his funeral service began, I was in the air, far above the clouds in a far away land. Perhaps, I cannot think of a more fitting place to say goodbye to the man who taught me never to fly low.
I came to him asking for a job. He gave me a life.
Thank you, sir.
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