Ahmad Nadeem Qasmi was born on November 20, 1916, in Inga, a village in the Son Skaisar Valley. He passed the matriculation examination from Campbellpur (whose name has been changed to Attock). Later he went to Bahawalpur to get a job where he got a job as an Assistant Inspector in the Excise Department. He passed BA examination from SE College, Bahawalpur. The first part of his poetry was created in Bahawalpur. After some time he came to Lahore and in 1942 he became associated with Darul Ashaat Punjab. He ignited his talents. In a very short time, he became popular in the literary circles of Lahore. From 1943 to 1945, he was the editor of the famous literary magazine “Adab Latif”. In 1946, he became a scriptwriter for Radio Pakistan Peshawar. Qasmi Sahib also compiled a few issues of Sawira when Mohammad Tufail wrote “Impressions”.
Ahmad Nadeem Qasmi writes in his autobiography -: I remember very well that before going to the madrassa, my tears were carefully wiped away, which flowed from my eyes in the grief of failing to get a single penny from my mother. Cleaning my clothes, the luxury of my bag and the “get-up” of my books It was no less than anyone else.
Outside the house, the feeling of superiority continued, but as soon as I entered the house, all the glasses that I had dreamed of in my childhood would be smashed. I would feel it. When I went to play with the children of my own family, there would be fear in my eyes and anger in my heart. All the members of the family ate and drank. My father was a dear friend.
The memory of God began to overwhelm him so much that he was fascinated by the loved ones who took over his ass for his wife, two sons and himself. The preacher fixed a monthly stipend of one and a half rupees (half of which would have been twelve annas).
With a daily income of three paise, my mother found it easier to wipe away my tears than to give me one penny a day. But the world was that when we brothers and sisters would shake hands with our mother, she would spin the wheel and we They would make ponies. If they were grinding, we would sing together.
If they were covering the room, we would be clinging to the stairs. We would both sit around them. Outside, in the courtyard, bubbles would spread the floor of countless domes and the leaves of the berries in the courtyard would fly away and come to us. And say with great sorrow. The angels are descending on the earth with a drop of rain.
O holy angels, go to the court of God and ask me on behalf of Dakhiari not to give any pain to these children of mine who have suffered so much. I have made it very difficult for them. Read, write, be good and worthy and make a name for yourself in the world. Make a flower to cut their destiny. If it is not possible, write it in my destiny.
These children are my miracle assets. Just do it so that I don’t see their pain. I am calling for a drop of rain.
The lodge of my torn feet and cut heels is in your hands. Or the Lord of the Worlds. Then the mother would recite a verse under her lips and as soon as she touched the three of us, the branches of life would be filled with flowers. Mother cries out.
The worm is in the beer. I sing in my ugly voice. The worm is in the beer. The grain is in the heap. Eat up Brother John used to tell me that you are actually inherited. We have taken pity on you and kept you in our house. Would go to prove I am thankful for my mother’s love for not letting me become a stone. If there is a Pathos somewhere in my literature, it is my mother’s religion.
Ahmad Nadeem Qasmi was such a person, he spent his entire life fighting against exploitative classes and dictatorship. He recorded indelible impressions in poetry and literature. There are paths for him. Despite living such a dynamic life, his life was really like a mirror. This masterpiece of science and literature passed away on July 10, 2006 at the age of 90.