Brothers of My Youth

Introduction :

“Brothers of My Youth” is a nostalgic tribute to friendship forged in childhood. Through memories of school days and loyal bonds, this poem celebrates the brothers found in life’s early years—connections that time and distance can never break.

Brothers of My Youth

(A Poem Inspired by Friendship)

When I moved to Islamabad one day,

A new school welcomed me to stay.

In Class 6, sharp and full of trouble,

First in class, but always causing trouble.

Mischief filled my every look,

Spreading chaos while acing the books.

Teachers sighed, but still would smile,

I tested their patience all the while.

Then came Naif, calm and wise,

With Murree hills behind his eyes.

Quiet strength and steady grace,

Always calm, a thoughtful face.

We became friends through games and talk,

Through schoolyard laughs and hallway walks.

We shared our dreams, our fears, our truth —

A brother found in days of youth.

In Class 8 came Haris, true,

Naif’s cousin, made our circle two to a crew.

Three of us — a bond so tight,

No one joined; it felt so right.

Years have passed, and cities changed,

But some things never get rearranged.

Though I moved on, one truth remains —

Brotherhood never breaks its chains.

One day soon, I’ll find my track,

To Islamabad — I’m coming back.

Just to see them, and relive my youth,

In the city where I found my truth.

     — Shahzad Sulaiman

Back Story : Brothers of My Youth

The Story of Us – A Tribute to My Brothers

It all started back in 2008, when my parents moved to Islamabad — my soul city. At the time, I was just a kid. After we settled, I got admitted to school and started from class 6.

Now let me tell you how things went down in those first three days. The other classmates? They were bullying me. They thought I was just some random silly kid. But then they started getting to know me — and soon, everyone realized I wasn’t the kind of kid who would even drink water unless I’d done something mischievous first. But hey — they started it, right?

It was wild. One kid would be like, “Bro, I need to study, please stop!”

Another one: “Stop pulling my hair!”

Then a minute later: “Hey Shahzad, where did you put my bag?”

And I’d be like, “I don’t know, maybe a crow stole it.”

That — right there — was the most fun time of my life.

Now I know what you're thinking:

“Where were the teachers when all this chaos was happening?”

Well, let me explain. First of all, I wasn’t just causing chaos for my class — I was causing chaos for the whole school. The teachers were trying to stop me, but here’s the twist: I was always getting A+ grades. I was one of the most brilliant students in school, so that’s why I was safe. Mischief + brains = immunity.

About a month after I joined, I made a friend — a guy from Murree. His name was Naif Javed. And oh boy, he was the complete opposite of me. Calm. Quiet. Always minding his own business. But just like me, he was brilliant in studies.

In just a week, we became brothers.

We sat together, ate together, played together, helped each other with studies — everything. And when we reached Class 8, Naif’s cousin joined the school. His name was Haris Haroon. He joined our brotherhood too. From two, we became three.

We shared secrets during class, laughed like idiots at the back benches, and understood each other in ways no one else could. After our duo became a trio, no one ever joined — and no one ever could.

I still remember, the only thing common between the three of us was that we were all good at studies. But outside of studies, Naif and Haris would stay quiet… while I would keep on being me — the mischief-maker.

Think of our trio like this:

Naif — the calm.

Haris — the wise helper.

Shahzad — the problematic.

But then, after Class 8, fate had other plans. My family left Islamabad — and I had to go too.

But thank God, to this day, I’m still in touch with my brothers. We weren’t lost. We didn’t forget each other. We didn’t fade away.

And maybe, someday soon, I’ll return to Islamabad — to see them again… and maybe to cause a little more mischief too.

I want to thank both of them — Naif Javed and Haris Haroon — for still being my brothers.

Guys, when you read this, know that it’s for you.

From your brother.

And once again… thank you.

From the bottom of my heart.

NOTE: These poems are personal expressions, drawn from real emotions, life experiences, and heartfelt dreams. You are welcome to read and reflect, but copying, downloading, or using them as your own is not allowed. If you wish to share a poem or use a part of it in your artwork, post, or project, please give proper credit to the original author: Shahzad Sulaiman (Sultan of Hearts) Thank you for respecting the creative effort and honesty behind each word.