Inspire by FM

One of the wonderful consequences of the highly pressurised LUMS MBA programme is that I emerged with a group of friends who had survived the same experience. Friends who recall all the highs and lows. Friends who still call us by our given shortened names that evolved during those two years. Friends who have by now witnessed a sizeable chunk of life alongside one another over the past 29 years. We have clapped for each other with every career move. We have witnessed our children mature into young adults and enter the world like we did. We are also witnessing the weddings of some of our children. We have stood in silence and mourning grieving parents who have passed. And on Sunday 24th December 2023, time stood still when we all found out that our deeply respected, loved and admired friend and classfellow Umar Kitchlew was no longer with us.

Even as I write this, I can not come to the terms with the fact that Umar who had gone hiking and had successfully climbed a mountain in Snowdonia did not make it back to the bottom. If there was one thing that Kitch loved after his family it was his mountains. Over the years wherever a mountain rose before him, Kitch would climb it. Always the one to organise and plan every last detail, Kitch was a hiker par excellence with a love of nature. For us lot in the girls hostel, we often heard shortened versions of the stories of the hikes, but if the exchange of glances were anything to go by, the boys always had such a great time on these hikes with Kitch as their leader, fully aware of what each and every turn around the mountains had in store. He knew where the waterfalls would appear and where the best views were even before he saw them. Such was his planning and attention to detail and passion.

Since we had all first met, in the newly inaugurated shiny LUMS campus in the summer of 1994, Kitch was set apart by his calm composed manner. Never one to get flustered or angry, he was always the voice of reason in any discussion no matter how heated. He always had a twinkle in his eye and his own elegant unique way of doing things and of calming situations.

The summer of 1996 rolled on and we all went our own separate ways. Whilst we all stayed in touch the advent of what’s app brought the entire class back into contact almost on a daily basis. Here we shared jokes, latest news, pictures of reunions, news of upcoming weddings. For all of us who are based in London, our regular get togethers were always a source of joy. Kitch and his equally wonderful wife Henna have always been the most thoughtful, gracious, and hospitable of hosts. No dinner would be complete without a heated discussion on politics followed by a round of fresh fruit cut by Kitch for all his guests. Always to be seen in his crisp black shalwar kameez and Peshawari chappal, he would go out of his way to engage everyone, whether it was children, or the ever so shy person who would hesitate to say something. With each person he would engage with and take a keen interest in their conversation. His presence was always one hundred percent and it was felt by all those who have ever interacted with him, be it briefly, or over long periods of time. Henna was telling me that only recently at his bank end-of-year dinner he went out of his way to introduce the families of his colleagues to each other. Such was the level of thought, care and attention that he invested in those around them.

And today we all mourn him. A sense of shock has reverberated throughout communities where he lived. From his very senior position in Pakistan he moved with the family to Glasgow and then to London. And since Monday, all those who knew him, all those who had studied with him, be it UET, or LUMS, all those who had worked with him be it Al Faysal or Habib Bank, all those who had scaled mountains and regaled the rest of us with their stories and all those who had broken bread with him, each and everyone of us are saddened by the loss of our dear friend. He was a larger than life person who left a mark on everyone he met. Why do we wait to lose someone for the tributes to pour in? Why don’t we shower people with those tributes whilst they are still with us?

Henna and Kitch made a beautiful partnership. They raised three highly accomplished, grounded and wonderful children. In each of them I now catch glimpses of Kitch. I see Kitch in Jalal and Ahmad’s thoughtfulness and grace and in their measured and calm manner at such a difficult time. As we all sat and remembered his wonderful father, Jalal cut fruit for all of us just like his father would have. Amal, the apple of her father’s eye, has his poise and beautiful smile and sparkle. And Henna his equally accomplished wife said to me “he taught me so much”. And in fact, Kitch taught all of us so much, he was a man of principles, he did things his way which was always the right way. He held and stood his ground, he was thoughtful and empathic and a true adventurer. His sudden loss has left a void in the hearts of so many.

The tributes to our friend are pouring in. Each of us has a story to tell and a picture to share. Remembering what are now the old days. Sharing anecdotes. A beautiful memory of the warmth with which he greeted one and all. His love of food and all things Pakistani. We are grieving the loss of our friend even as we struggle to comprehend that he is no more.

Navigating the map of loss is not easy. There is no manual to grief. In the end, it is not only about our loss, but about our ability to carry our loss with us on a daily basis. It takes a few seconds for the soul to peacefully depart, but it takes a lifetime to unravel and understand their life, their work, their belongings, the small details, their impact and legacy and to keep them as a part of our daily fabric whilst life is never the same and yet somehow continues.

Rest in peace dear Kitch, we will miss you very much.