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Shahzada Dawood’s tragic demise and your misplaced reactions

It was the year 1989 when I first saw and met Shahzada Dawood. He was my class fellow when I started my O’levels at Aitchison College. I saw a guy with unruly hair, an unkempt look, who was seemingly unaware of his surroundings. I did not know, and honestly from his demeanour nothing suggested, that he belonged to one of the richest families in Pakistan.

Seemingly lost and always smiling with a twinkle in his eyes, he looked more like an extremely down-to-earth and simple person rather than some super rich kid. We were together for three years and during that time developed a good friendship. I still vividly remember the talks we used to have, and even back then he showed signs of being a very liberal and progressive person. Yes, he was aware that he came from a privileged background, but that awareness did not instil any arrogance in him, which is often the case with most people born with a silver spoon in their mouths, but rather he boasted a sense of responsibility. I remember him talking about giving women more rights, improving Pakistan’s education system, and the need to increase our exports. He was humble, genuine and above all, empathetic; the last quality, in my opinion, that makes us human.

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