True Friendship: The Story of Zaman Ali’s Sacrifice

True Friendship: A Bond Beyond Time

BY:Khan

Friendship is a five-letter word, yet within these letters lie countless mysteries, secrets, and values. Only those who have experienced true friendship can truly understand its depth. Genuine friendship is not merely a bond; it is a sacred relationship that often surpasses ties like those of siblings, parents, or even children. When hearts are bound with the pure essence of friendship, even the most difficult tasks become easier. In such a relationship, there is no space for greed, jealousy, deceit, or malice. Instead, it paves the way to success and makes strangers feel like family.

The story I am about to share is not a figment of imagination but a reality that I lived. It is about me and my dearest friend, Zaman Ali. We grew up in the same neighborhood, our homes standing side by side. His father was a respected government officer, known for his honesty and integrity. Among his five siblings, Zaman was the youngest, the most cherished child of his family, loved dearly by everyone.

From childhood, Zaman and I were inseparable. We studied at the same school, passed our matriculation exams together, and even enrolled in the same college. Our bond was so deep that everything we owned seemed like a reflection of each other—our uniforms, our school bags, and later our college belongings. Even our favorite foods and flowers were the same.

In school, we used to ride matching bicycles, pedaling side by side on our way to classes. Later, when we joined college, we would take the same bus. Our classmates often looked at our friendship with admiration, some even with envy, for such loyalty and purity were rare. During breaks, we would bring food from home. Sometimes, Zaman would bring something prepared by his mother, and other times, I would bring a dish from my house. Together, we would sit beneath an old, majestic tree in the college garden, sharing our meals and our dreams. That tree became our special place—a silent witness to our laughter, secrets, and studies.

Zaman was not only a cheerful soul but also a kind-hearted person. He treated everyone around him with love and respect. The poor neighbors of our community adored him because he always greeted them warmly. Often, he helped needy families secretly, never seeking recognition or praise. His compassion was genuine, and his sincerity touched every life he encountered.

Outside academics, Zaman had a deep passion for sports. He excelled in horseback riding, archery, swimming, and martial arts like judo and karate. Wherever he participated, he returned with the first prize. Over the years, he collected numerous awards, each a testament to his talent and dedication. Among all these sports, swimming fascinated him the most. He would dive into the deepest parts of the river or pool, staying underwater for long stretches of time. I often warned him about the risks, urging him not to push his limits, but he would always smile and say, “My dear friend, the day of death is already written. When the time comes, no one can stop it. Until then, let us live with courage.”

One day, Zaman arrived at my home, his face glowing with excitement. After greeting my family, he came straight to my room and handed me an envelope. Inside, I found a letter—it was an interview call from the Pakistan Air Force. My eyes lit up with pride as I told him how wonderful it would be if he became an Air Force officer. But Zaman, in his usual way, added a condition: “Moazzam, I will only go for this interview if you come with me.” Naturally, I agreed.

The next morning, we both went to the Air Force office. Dozens of candidates were waiting, each with dreams in their eyes. Zaman’s turn came fifteenth. After a while, he emerged from the interview room with a bright smile, announcing his success. My heart swelled with joy at his achievement.

Soon after, Zaman received his official training letter. Before leaving, he came to see me. With a serious tone, he said, “Promise me, Moazzam, that you will write to me every single day.” I promised him wholeheartedly and reminded him that he too must reply to my letters. We embraced tightly, both of us unaware that it would be our last farewell.

For almost two years, our friendship lived through letters. Each day, we wrote to each other, sharing our thoughts, experiences, and hopes. Then, one day, a devastating piece of news reached us. During a training exercise, Zaman’s aircraft crashed. He embraced martyrdom in the line of duty.

The shock shook me to my very core. My childhood companion, my truest friend, was gone forever. His family was heartbroken, and I too felt as though a piece of my soul had been torn away. I often recalled his words: “The day of death is fixed; it will come when it must.”

Even today, years later, I feel his presence around me. Sometimes I visit that old tree in the college garden, the one under which we shared our meals and dreams. Sitting there, I relive our memories, letting my heart find comfort in the echoes of our laughter.

Zaman’s friendship was pure and selfless. He was more than a friend—he was a brother chosen by destiny. Though his body rests in the earth, his spirit lives on in my heart.

May Allah grant my dearest friend, Zaman Ali, the highest place in paradise. Ameen.