When Childhood Never Grows Old

True friendship is not measured by how often we meet, but by how faithfully we remember one another.

• The story of two boys from Moro, Sindh: Muhammad Usman Soomro, and his dearest childhood friend, Barrister Mazhar Ul Haq Qazi.

By Abdullah Usman Morai | Sweden

Some friendships are born in classrooms, some on playgrounds, and a few quietly become part of history. They survive distances, changing fortunes, and the relentless march of time. Such friendships remind us that while people grow older, the memories of childhood remain forever young.

This is the story of two boys from Moro, Sindh: my beloved father, Muhammad Usman Soomro (Baba), and his dearest childhood friend, Barrister Mazhar Ul Haq Qazi.

It was the late 1940s and the early years of the 1950s. Moro was a peaceful town where children found happiness in the simplest pleasures. There were no smartphones, television channels, or video games. Their world was made of dusty streets, endless laughter, and boundless imagination.

Baba and Mazhar were inseparable companions. They spent countless afternoons playing marbles under the warm Sindh sun, competing with innocent determination and celebrating every tiny victory. One of their greatest adventures was hiring bicycles for just two annas an hour. Those bicycles became their wings. Together they explored every street, every field, and every corner around Moro, believing the world was as vast as their dreams.

Neither of them could have imagined how different life would unfold.

As years passed, responsibilities arrived earlier for my father. Our grandfather, Haji Qadir Bux Soomro, was growing older, and as the eldest son, Baba chose duty over personal ambition. He stepped into the family business, sacrificing the opportunity to pursue higher education. It was not an easy choice, but it was one made with love, respect, and a deep sense of responsibility toward the family.

Meanwhile, Baba’s younger brother, Muhammad Khan Soomro, continued his education and later served with distinction in the banking sector across various cities of Sindh. Mazhar Ul Haq Qazi also continued his studies, carrying with him dreams that stretched far beyond the borders of Pakistan.

Eventually, those dreams took him to London.

There, he studied law, embraced a new chapter of life, married an English lady, and became the father of a family of his own. Yet despite the thousands of miles between London and Moro, he never allowed distance to weaken the bond with his childhood friend.

Letters began crossing continents.

In an era before emails, mobile phones, or video calls, every handwritten letter carried warmth, affection, and memories. Qazi Sahib regularly wrote to Baba from London, sharing stories of a foreign land while asking about life back home. Baba treasured those letters, and their friendship quietly continued through ink, paper, and heartfelt words.

Years later, Barrister Mazhar Ul Haq Qazi returned to Pakistan.

His London days had also introduced him to another young Pakistani student who would later become one of the country’s most influential leaders, Mr. Zulfikar Ali Bhutto. Their friendship remained strong, and upon his return, Bhutto invited Qazi Sahib to join him. He later served as his Press Secretary and earned great respect, particularly for his dedicated work during the devastating floods of 1973.

Despite their demanding lives, the old friends never forgot each other.

Whenever Baba travelled from Moro to Karachi- usually every month or two- they tried their best to meet with each other. Those meetings were never merely social visits; they were reunions of two boys who still carried the laughter of their childhood within them.

Life, however, is often shorter than our dreams.

Barrister Mazhar Ul Haq Qazi suffered a stroke at a relatively young age and passed away while still in his fifties. Only two months before his death, Baba had met him once again in Karachi. Neither of them could have known it would be their final meeting.

Years turned into decades.

Children became parents, parents became grandparents, and the world transformed beyond recognition.

Then came a remarkable moment.

At the age of eighty-five, Baba finally travelled to England and Scotland. As our journey entered London- the very city where his childhood friend had once arrived as a young student- something beautiful and deeply emotional happened.

Baba became unusually quiet.

Looking through the streets of London, he spoke of Mazhar.

He remembered the little boy who had left Moro with dreams in his eyes many decades earlier. He remembered the letters that had travelled between two continents. He remembered the meetings in Karachi. More than anything else, he remembered the marbles and the rented bicycles.

As we walked through London’s historic streets, I wondered what thoughts were passing through his heart.

Perhaps he was imagining that around the next corner he might suddenly see his childhood friend again, not as an elderly man, but as the cheerful young boy who had once raced bicycles beside him through the streets of Moro.

Perhaps, for a fleeting moment, he wished they could hire another bicycle together, just as they had done for two annas an hour.

Perhaps he wished for one more game of marbles.

Sometimes, memory is stronger than reality.

Sometimes, love ignores the passage of time.

And sometimes, the places we finally reach are less important than the people we wish were there waiting for us.

Watching Baba remember his lifelong friend in London reminds me that true friendship never really ends. Death may separate people physically, but it cannot erase shared laughter, handwritten letters, sacrifices, or decades of affection. Those remain alive in the hearts of those left behind.

As children, they explored Moro together.

As adults, they walked different paths.

Yet in Baba’s heart, they never truly stopped being two boys riding bicycles through the dusty lanes of their hometown.

May Allah Almighty grant my beloved Baba, Muhammad Usman Soomro, a long, healthy, and blessed life. And may Allah grant eternal peace and the highest place in Jannat to his dear childhood friend, Barrister Mazhar Ul Haq Qazi. Ameen.

What This Story Teaches Us

• True friendship is not measured by how often we meet, but by how faithfully we remember one another.
• Family responsibilities sometimes change the course of our lives, yet sacrifice itself is a noble success.
• Handwritten letters carried hearts across continents long before technology connected the world.
• Success may take people to different countries and professions, but genuine affection always brings them back together.
• Childhood memories are among life’s greatest treasures; they become more precious with every passing year.
• We should never postpone meeting old friends or expressing our appreciation, because none of us knows when a farewell will become the last.
• Love, loyalty, and sincere friendship outlive wealth, titles, and even death.

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Abdullah Soomro, penname Abdullah Usman Morai, hailing from Moro town of Sindh, province of Pakistan, is based in Stockholm Sweden. Currently he is working as Groundwater Engineer in Stockholm Sweden. He did BE (Agriculture) from Sindh Agriculture University Tando Jam and MSc water systems technology from KTH Stockholm Sweden as well as MSc Management from Stockholm University. Beside this he also did masters in journalism and economics from Shah Abdul Latif University Khairpur Mirs, Sindh. He is author of a travelogue book named ‘Musafatoon’. His second book is in process. He writes articles from time to time. A frequent traveler, he also does podcast on YouTube with channel name: VASJE Podcast.