It is human nature to share joy and success. We internalise our pain and put on a brave face. Everyone likes to bask in the glory of success and we all enjoy a good time. Pain is an orphan few want to own. However, this pandemic has inflicted so much suffering that I feel I will burst if I don’t share. Throughout last year till now, opening Facebook has become akin to reading the obituary pages. Tragedy has become an integral part of our lives no matter where we live. Globally, most families have been impacted by this wicked virus, in one way or another I will start with the double whammy that hit us just this past week. Khan Khokhar was a prominent name in the local community here in Toronto. A leading immigration consultant whose marketing slogan “jahan lagay immigration ke tokhar, wahan yaad karain Khan Khokhar” won him fame all over Canada. That was his business persona. He and his family are deeply loved by a wide circle of friends. Our friendship spilled over to our spouses and kids. Last month, he contracted Covid. A month of treatment saw him beat the virus free, but it damaged his lungs completely. His departure brought an uncontrollable gush of tears and left a huge void in our lives. I was still reeling from this loss when I got the shocking news that our beloved friend Nasim Niaz had also left us. Nasim and his wife contracted the virus in March. He recovered but we lost our beloved Bhabi. Nasim was suffering from a heart condition. He was a British citizen and top cardiologists were treating him. Due to Covid-related weakness, they postponed his surgery. That proved fatal and a massive heart attack took him away. Comparatively speaking, in terms of length of friendships, Nasim was a relatively late entrant, introduced by Rana Javed Omar. But he has left an indelible print on my heart. Tears roll down my cheeks as I write this. Many amongst our circle of friends have achieved success but when we are together we are just boys sharing love and laughter Nasim Niaz arrived from the UK and conquered our hearts. He was a gracious host with a heart of gold. Many a time while flying back to Canada my flight would be early in the morning. I would say my goodbyes to Hassan Nisar and family, my adopted home, and move to Nasim’s residence close to the airport. Nasim was an accomplished singer with an incredible memory for songs and ghazals. He would invite friends over, we would eat his sumptuous food and have a musical evening till my flight. At times Hamid Butt who we call “Jubi” lovingly would be visiting Lahore. He is a soft crooner so we would have “jugal bandi” between them. Tears roll down my cheeks as I write this. Many amongst our circle of friends have achieved success but when we are together we are just boys sharing love and laughter. Khalid Taj carries on the legacy of his celebrated father Joosh Sb, a senior oil executive and mentor of many well known intellectuals. Khalid is an anchor when I am in Lahore. He shared a quote of Malik Muzaffar, a paper magnate and a friend. “When two friends aged 60 meet they become 30 years old, when it’s three they are 20 years.” It so aptly describes us. Yesterday, I was down in the dumps so I asked my “jigar”, my buddy Capt Adil Chaudhry to come over. He is lovingly known as “Pir Adil” in the Air force. Words penetrate deeper than the edge of a knife. Always a straight shooter, his opening remarks pushed me out of my melancholy. “Khanji, we all have a wide range of friends spread all over; at our age that is the kind of news we will get, none of us will announce he had a son”. Painful but true when we heard we lost Rana Maqsood and Mubin Pirzada. I stayed longer in Pakistan this time around than I had planned. As seniors, we carry our ailments and medicines with us. I ran short of meds and called Adil to send replenishment through someone. Mubin Pirzada was travelling to Karachi and he brought them along. In Pakistan he contracted Covid and never recovered. A loving friend who used to be the life of any party. I called to thank him and that was our last call. May Allah bless him and all the others. I got addicted to friends since my Punjab University days and I love it. But friendship means sharing pain too. The unbelievable suffering going through the experience of a near one getting infected, living through it all and fortunately surviving. I lived and died every day with Rana Javed, Pervez Bhandara, Dr Nauman Qureshi, my alter ego “JR”, Javed Randhawa, Akram Mirza in New York, and my adopted nephew Bilal Shehzad as they suffered the virus. I was hammered out of the ground when my soulmate Afzal Ghauri contracted Covid. The ordeal lasted a month. I don’t want to re-live this roller coaster ride ever again. Hopes going up one day and taking a nosedive the next. The emotional price is too much. Without the support of my wife and Tahir Chaudhry, I really don’t know what I would have done. Hassan Nisar, the third member of the trio, summed it beautifully: “Khanji, I have looked forward to your calls for fifty years, this time I dreaded your call”. I call my articles “Straight Talk” but friends this one is coming straight from the heart. I pray for all those going through such experiences. The writer is the director of CERF, a non-profit, charitable organisation in Canada