Arshad Nadeem didn't live

Arshad Nadeem didn't live, his poverty also lived, his passion also lived, which in this January used to drive him to find a few lakhs from somewhere, with which he could buy javelin, that is, the wood that The players of the world have plenty of them.

When he would go out to throw the javelin, he would leave the house eating the cooked paratha from his mother's hand in the name of food and outside a simple piece of land in the name of the playground was waiting for him. Ka paratha and plain land also won. Along with this, Mian Chanu, a city in southern Punjab far away from Lahore, whose streets are simple, where people are ordinary and where people are mentioned only under the ice of happiness, today Arshad's victory has won Mian Chanu. A new and global recognition has been won.
Along with Pakistan's national hero Arshad Nadeem, the poor father also won, who used to be surprised at his child's game that throwing a stick away with force could be a game? That the game is cricket, who knows and believes this game? Today, through this unknown sport but indomitable passion, his son has become famous in tomorrow's jug, not just a hero but a superhero, with Arshad's victory his city, his country and his simple life. The house has also won.
I listened to the Arabic commentator, carrying Arshad's javelin, weighing it on his hands and throwing it, while his live commentary was going on, but as soon as Arshad did his charisma, he forgot all about it and started chanting Allahu Akbar.
I heard Indians who used to say, our Neeraj Chopra didn't fall short, Arshad Nadeem but today came out of syllabus. Who could compete with him that he was out of calculation and all the syllabus, he not only won the gold, but with his strong arms and pride and poverty, he also destroyed the hundred year record of javelin throw.
How could this day be anyone else's, that this day was only Arshad Nadeem's day. A day of poverty and hardship of a young man against those who entered the arena after spending crores of rupees. It was a day for a small-town neglected youth to bow down to a city of perfumes like Paris