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Urdu Aur Hindustani Tahzeeb

Aale Ahmad Suroor


Translated By : Rekhta Editor

Aale Ahmad Suroor

Urdu Aur Hindustani Tahzeeb

Aale Ahmad Suroor

MORE BYAale Ahmad Suroor

    On the surface, there should have been no need to say anything about the relationship between Urdu and Indian culture, as Urdu is a modern Indian language and a magnificent manifestation of our composite culture. However, certain circles have expressed views that continue to wield significant influence. Consequently, in independent India, neither has the Indianness of Urdu been fully acknowledged, nor is there a widespread desire to embrace the rich heritage of the composite culture it represents.

    Furthermore, since the country's independence was accompanied by its partition, every issue began to be viewed through a narrow political lens. Urdu, too, fell victim to this limited political perspective. Although it has been more than thirty-seven years since independence, there are still obstacles in the teaching and usage of this language. The Constitution has granted it certain rights, but their implementation remains highly inadequate. The promotion of Indian literature after independence has certainly increased the popularity of Urdu literature. There are also considerable facilities available at the higher education level. The Sahitya Akademi and various state academies have contributed to the enrichment of Urdu's literary wealth. Through films and mushairas (poetry symposiums), the popularity of the Urdu language and its poetry is greater than ever before. However, there is no provision for education in the Urdu medium at the primary and secondary levels, nor is there adequate training for Urdu teachers. The language formula has not been implemented honestly, nor are the legitimate rights of Urdu protected in states where Hindi is the official language.

    The reality is that Indian democracy, despite the leadership of Jawaharlal Nehru, has not been able to rise above a revivalism that equates India solely with ancient India, and whose slogan does not extend beyond Hindi, Hindu, and Hindustan. Public opinion holds immense importance in a democracy. Therefore, it is essential to protect public opinion from the distortions it is falling prey to due to cheap politics.

    An independent India—an India that believes in democracy—embraces the entirety of Indian history and all its heritage. It embraces its culture, which is diverse in appearance yet unified at its core. It encompasses the colorful tapestry stretching from Kashmir to Kanyakumari and from Gujarat to Guwahati, along with all its historical imprints and monuments. It embraces its languages, its fields and pastures, its industrial institutions and factories, its mountains, rivers, forests, and plains. It embraces its sophisticated urbanites and its simple masses, its pandits and scholars, and its unlettered villagers. It watches over them all, and the heartbeat of every single one of them resonates within its own. As Ghalib says:

    Hai rang-e-lala-o-gul-o-nasreen juda juda

    Har rang mein bahaar ka isbaat chahiye

    [The colors of the tulip, the rose, and the wild eglantine are all distinct,

    Yet in every color, the presence of spring must be affirmed.]

    Sar pa-e-khum pe chahiye hangaam-e-mai-kashi

    Roo su-e-qibla waqt-e-munajaat chahiye

    [During the drinking of wine, the head should be at the foot of the wine-jar,

    During the time of prayer, the face should be turned towards the Qibla.]

    Yaani ba-hasb-e-gardish-e-paimana-e-sifaat

    Aarif hamesha mast-e-mai-e-zaat chahiye

    [Meaning, in accordance with the circulation of the goblet of attributes,

    The mystic must always remain intoxicated by the wine of the Divine Essence.]

    We must keep in mind this expansive understanding of essence and attributes.

    This subcontinent, also known as South Asia, is essentially the cradle of three cultural streams. The first is the indigenous culture of South Asia, which, for the sake of convenience, can be identified as the Dravidian culture. The second is the culture of Southeast Asia, whose influence stretches from Bengal to Malaya and Indonesia. The third is the Central Asian and West Asian culture. It is a historical fact that Indian history and culture are a composite of these three elements, and we cannot afford to ignore any of them. The original inhabitants of India were the Proto-Negroids, whose descendants can still be found in the Andaman and Nicobar Islands today. Later, the Dravidian culture spread across the country, until the arrival of the Aryans pushed it south of the Vindhya range.

    Suniti Kumar Chatterji has noted that despite the dominance of the Aryans, the profound influence of Dravidian culture can still be seen abundantly in the civilization that emerged after the Aryans spread across North India. In other words, alongside the influence of the conquering tribes, the influence of the conquered tribes continued to play its part. In the seventh century, Islamic influences first reached Malabar through Arab traders, leaving an indelible mark on the life of the region. However, these influences were felt much more strongly, first in Sindh and later in Punjab. Nevertheless, the reality is that the cultural impact of West Asia became much deeper and more enduring following the invasions of Mahmud of Ghazni and, subsequently, the Ghurids.

    Buddhism had already spread to Central Asia, and Buddhist influences had merged with Islamic influences to shape the culture that the Turks and Mughals later brought to India. These influences are particularly evident in Kashmir, where the local architecture clearly reflects Buddhist elements. The people of these regions spoke Turkish, but their literary language was Persian. It is a historical fact that direct Arabic influence in India was minimal; rather, it arrived largely filtered through Persian influence. What we refer to today as Islamic culture is, in the words of Iqbal, simply another name for the inner passion of the Arab and the aesthetic grace of the Ajam (non-Arab world). And the term Ajam encompasses Iran, Turan, and Turkey alike.

    The profound impact of religion on culture cannot be denied, yet every culture is also shaped by geographical, historical, and psychological elements. From the very beginning, Indian culture has been characterized by the continuous incorporation of external influences. However, through a process of assimilation and absorption, both local and foreign elements have blended together, manifesting all these influences in a unique and distinct hue. Therefore, it is far more appropriate to call it a composite culture.

    The Himalayas, the Bay of Bengal, and the Arabian Sea have bestowed a geographical unity upon India. Yet, alongside this geographical unity, history has endowed it with a vibrant diversity, a multifaceted nature, and a Ganga-Jamuni (syncretic) character. Political changes occurred constantly, but India's rural agrarian system continued along its traditional path. During the reign of Ashoka, the Gupta period, and the era of Akbar, a vast portion of the country remained under a single political authority. Despite this, distinct cultural islands persisted in various regions. Under British rule, the country once again achieved political unity, a sense that only deepened after independence. However, it is essential to emphasize both the vibrant diversity of Indian culture and the underlying unity within that diversity, as this is the most defining characteristic of this civilization.

    Just like race, no culture is ever entirely pure. The twists and turns of history, new inclinations and trends, and new technologies all leave their mark. Nevertheless, the geographical landscape—its mountains, rivers, plains, deserts, and mountain passes—continuously shapes and defines cultural values. This very geography influences the climate, the seasons, the forests, as well as the clothing, customs, fairs, and festivals of the people. Religions, beliefs, modes of worship, and rituals all exert their influence on culture. Therefore, when conceptualizing Indian culture, it is imperative to keep in mind the entirety of Indian history, every historical shift, and the consequences of those shifts.

    During the colonial era—the period of British rule—British historians, officers, scholars, and missionaries popularized a one-sided, flawed, and superficial concept of Indian culture. Unfortunately, even Indians accepted this view. Even a great man like Sir Syed was so dazzled by the outward glamour of Western culture that, in his letters from London, he declared an ordinary English maid to be more civilized than an Indian noblewoman. While there is no denying that certain elements of Western culture are highly developed, this does not mean we must label Eastern or Indian culture as inferior and Western culture as superior. The advancement of certain cultural elements often comes at the expense of others. Therefore, in the study of culture, the concept of Cultural Relativism is now considered a much healthier and more comprehensive approach.

    The second important point is that, following independence, a powerful wave of revivalism emerged in our country. I distinctly remember that in 1947, Jawaharlal Nehru stated that we had been freed from nearly two hundred years of subjugation. However, Govind Ballabh Pant, the Chief Minister of Uttar Pradesh, declared in Lucknow that we had been freed from a thousand years of slavery. This was a grave injustice to history, yet no voice was raised against it at the time. Jawaharlal Nehru was the Prime Minister of the country, while Pant ji was merely the Chief Minister of a state. Nevertheless, the majority preferred Pant ji's narrative. In 1962, we organized the Jashn-e-Bahadur Shah Zafar (a celebration of Bahadur Shah Zafar) at the Red Fort, which was presided over by Jawaharlal Nehru. Standing in the Diwan-e-Aam (Hall of Public Audience), he proclaimed that the Mughals were our own, thereby emphasizing the inherent Indianness of Mughal culture. Yet, Pandit ji's words were merely heard and left at that.

    Several languages flourished during India's ancient period, with Pali and Sanskrit holding the greatest significance. In fact, I am willing to concede that Sanskrit must be regarded as the key to understanding the thoughts, intellectual development, and philosophies of ancient India. This, however, does not diminish the inherent importance of regional languages. Similarly, the key to the medieval period is Persian—an Aryan language that left a profound impact on regional languages. Suniti Kumar Chatterji went so far as to say that even if there had been no central Muslim government in Delhi, modern Indian languages would still have developed, but that progress would have been significantly delayed.

    Nevertheless, it is an undeniable fact that during the medieval period of our history, Persian was used for official purposes, influencing all spheres of life. Concurrently, modern Indian languages evolved beyond mere spoken dialects and began producing literature. It should also be noted that although the Persian that flourished in India remained confined to a specific class—namely scholars, government officials, and the nobility—it amassed a rich repository of academic, religious, literary, and historical wealth. This Persian was distinct from Iranian Persian and eventually came to be known as Sabk-e-Hindi (the Indian style). It flourished extensively across Central Asia, Afghanistan, and the subcontinent, and the linguistic similarities shared across these regions distinguish it from Iranian Persian.

    The key to the modern era is, undoubtedly, English. The influence of English can be seen across all Indian languages, and this impact is quite pervasive. In fact, it is now argued that English—or Indian English—is one of the languages of India, boasting commendable works of not just prose, but poetry as well. English culture has also significantly influenced Indian culture. Like other Indian languages, it has left a profound mark on Urdu language and literature, which will be discussed further on.

    What exactly is meant by culture? And which elements require attention when studying it? To answer this question, we must first establish a comprehensive definition of culture. In his book Qaumi Tehzeeb Ka Masla (The Problem of National Culture), Dr. Abid Husain defines culture as follows:

    Culture is the harmonious consciousness of values held by a human community. It is given an objective form through their collective institutions, and individuals manifest it in their emotions and inclinations, their temperament and behavior, and in the impact they have on material objects.

    Elaborating on this definition, he distinguishes culture (tehzeeb) from religion (mazhab) and civilization (tamaddun). He considers the spirit of religion—that is, the inner experience that reveals the reality and purpose of life and the universe to us, thereby validating our values—to be the true essence of culture, and all of culture to be its manifestation. However, when religion is understood in its objective form—where the experience of reality is institutionalized—he views it merely as a component of culture, no matter how crucial that component may be. Civilization and culture are often treated as synonymous, but for Abid Husain, civilization represents the advanced state of culture's material aspect. In his words, if the luxuries of civilized life render nations indifferent to religion and morality, or make them so indolent that they can no longer defend themselves, then a hollow and obsolete civilization must be dismantled in order to breathe new life into culture.

    India is an ancient society, yet it is a young nation. This concept of nationalism originated in the West. While patriotism has existed from the very beginning and is inherent to human nature, Indian nationalism is a product of the modern era. It has not yet become the guiding principle of everyday life, nor does it resonate in every heartbeat. Furthermore, within Indian nationalism, the sub-nationalities of various regions maintain their own distinct identities, which we might call their distinguishing characteristics. Nevertheless, all these regional identities collectively complete Indian nationalism and its culture. Therefore, no comprehensive definition of Indian culture can afford to ignore India's multifaceted brilliance, its all-encompassing nature, and the underlying unity that exists despite its diversity.

    In 1871, Edward Tylor stated:

    Culture is that complex whole which includes knowledge, belief, art, morals, law, custom, and any other capabilities and habits acquired by man as a member of society.

    While acknowledging the significance of this definition, scholars eventually divided into two schools of thought. One, led by Kroeber, introduced the theory of cultural patterns, while the other placed greater emphasis on social structure. Kroeber’s definition of culture is as follows:

    Culture consists of patterns, explicit or implicit, of and for behavior acquired and transmitted by symbols, constituting the distinctive achievements of human groups, including their embodiments in artifacts; the essential core of culture consists of traditional (i.e., historically devised and selected) ideas and especially their attached values; culture systems may, on the one hand, be considered as products of action, on the other as conditioning elements of further action. (Kroeber and Kluckhohn, 1952)

    Culture is composed of those patterns of disposition and behavior that are explicit or implicit, and which are acquired or transmitted through symbols. These symbols consist of the specific achievements of human groups and take shape in artifacts. The soul of culture is tradition—that is, ideas (historically devised and selected) and especially their attached values. Cultural systems can be called the products of action on one hand, and elements that influence action on the other. Culture is, in a way, acquired behavior, but it focuses not just on behavior itself, but on the standards of behavior, which include dispositions and actions derived from an ideology. Thus, culture is composed of the art of living and the etiquette of leisure, behind which lie certain social values. Some of these are universal moral values, while others reflect the needs of a specific stage of society. Therefore, it is now accepted that no culture is superior or inferior to another. However, certain cultures do develop a greater capacity for advancement.

    It has been said of ancient Indian culture that it placed greater emphasis on civilization rather than progress. This civilization was more concerned with the spiritual contemplation of the cosmos, showing less resolve to ease the struggles of earthly life. Consequently, during the medieval period of our history, it required an infusion of new blood aided by new technology. After a prolonged period of struggle, it finally achieved a sense of poise and dignity, which became the defining characteristic of the Mughal era.

    Although this culture was shaded by religion, it had recognized the importance of worldly passions and pursuits—or, in other words, it had mastered the art of living. Its intellectual framework was influenced by Sufism, reflecting the philosophy of Hama Oost (All is He / Pantheism). The teachings of the Sufis and the Bhakti movement had fostered a spirit of tolerance that shunned religious fanaticism and insisted on witnessing the manifestation of truth in all its diverse forms. It encompassed everything: religiosity alongside a free-spirited bohemianism, firmness of faith coupled with broad-mindedness and tolerance in conduct, the refinements of urbanity alongside a closeness to nature, and a deep connection to the earth paired with the unfettered flight of the mind.

    Naturally, due to the influences of Central and Western Asia, the beautiful imprints of the Indian Muslims' lifeblood were more prominent within it, and the influence of Persian was dominant. However, as Professor Mujeeb notes in his book Indian Muslims, this was entirely natural; the imagination requires nourishment, and it found this sustenance in Persian literature.

    Urdu is a modern Indian language. It is the literary manifestation of Khari Boli, a dialect whose native region encompasses Delhi, Meerut, and the Rohilkhand division. Dhirendra Verma has also acknowledged that, from a historical perspective, the usage of Khari Boli Urdu began much earlier than that of Khari Boli Hindi. The earliest specimens of Urdu, aside from the scattered phrases and sentences of Sufi mystics, are found exclusively in poetic form. The meter of these surviving examples is generally Hindi. The quintessential Hindi poetic meter (chhand) is the doha. Among Muslim Sufi poets writing in Hindi, the doha and chaupai were immensely popular meters. The oldest examples of Urdu verse are composed in the doha meter. The poetry of Baba Farid, preserved in the Guru Granth Sahib, is entirely in the doha meter. Similarly, the first authentic example of Amir Khusrau’s Hindavi or Hindi poetry takes the form of a doha. Later poets like Sauda, Hatim, Insha, Jur'at, and Nazeer all composed dohas as well.

    The chaupai meter is also found in the works of Deccani poets. Some Deccani poets even employed Hindi meters in their ghazals. Prior to Wali Daccani, Deccani literature was deeply influenced by Hindi and Hindu mythology. A substantial corpus of Urdu literature from the seventeenth century survives in the Deccan, bearing the undeniable stamp of the Indian temperament. In fact, this influence is so profound that a tendency has emerged among Hindi scholars to classify this entire body of classical Urdu literature simply as Hindi.

    With Wali, a Persianate (Ajami) tone was introduced into our literature, though this did not mean an abandonment of local color. Rather, the intention was to absorb those broader Asian elements that would endow the language with greater depth, vibrancy, and refinement. Similar transitional periods have occurred in the West within the English, French, German, and Russian languages. In North India, Urdu literature dates back to the eighteenth century. According to modern research, there are several surviving prose specimens from this era which suggest that, even before the establishment of Fort William College, Urdu prose was already striving to free itself from the overwhelming influence of Persian.

    Some of our critics have exclusively focused on the highly ornate style of Nau Tarz-e-Murassa when evaluating North Indian prose. However, works such as Qissa Mehr Afroz-o-Dilbar, Tafseer-e-Muradiya, Mouzah-ul-Quran, Nau Aaeen-e-Hindi, Rasm Ali's Qissa-o-Ahwal-e-Rohilla, and Shah Alam II's Ajaib-ul-Qasas tell a very different story. In light of this evidence, it would not be incorrect to assert that Urdu prose had already found its distinct path prior to Fort William College. Its sentence structure had already broken free from Persian syntax, and early specimens of critical, scholarly, historical, religious, and fictional prose had all made their appearance.

    When Maulvi Abdul Haq wrote his Qawaid-e-Urdu (Urdu Grammar), he boldly proclaimed, Urdu is a purely Hindi language. Why should its grammar be Arabic? He went so far as to suggest that Urdu’s prosody (arooz) should be based on Hindi, and further expressed the view that abandoning specific Arabic sounds would not cause any linguistic confusion. Masud Husain Khan even went as far as to describe these archaic sounds as dead corpses. According to the lexical count of the Farhang-e-Asifiya dictionary, out of fifty-four thousand Urdu words, fifty percent are of Hindi origin, while 23.25 percent are formed through a blend of Hindi and Persian. Thus, the total proportion of indigenous Hindustani words reaches 73.5 percent. It can be said with certainty that in contemporary Urdu, this ratio exceeds three-quarters, as a vast number of Hindi words have been assimilated into the language since Independence.

    We must distinguish between two concepts of culture. One was the concept generally recognized as the culture of the nobility of Lucknow and Delhi. It was influenced more by the royal court than by the marketplace or the Sufi shrine. Its language was also elitist, but we must not forget that its standard, too, was the steps of Delhi's Jama Masjid, as Mir has noted. The literature of poetry and literary prose, in any case, maintains a stricter sense of hierarchy and decorum compared to spoken language. However, just as literature has a broad definition that encompasses the entire body of written work, the true meaning of culture encompasses the society and culture of both the masses and the elite—their way of life, wedding customs, fairs, festival celebrations, songs, and fine arts.

    If we examine this entire wealth of Urdu literature that has been committed to writing, through which all aspects of life have been expressed, the Indianness of Urdu literature becomes undeniable. Orthodox critics dismissed Jafar Zatalli's poetry as obscene and ignored it, but how can its historical and linguistic importance be denied? Jafar Zatalli died in 1713. Observe these verses of his:

    Gaya ikhlaas aalam se ajab yeh daur aaya hai

    Dare sab khalq zaalim se ajab yeh daur aaya hai

    [Sincerity has vanished from the world; a strange era has arrived.

    All creation fears the tyrant; a strange era has arrived.]

    Na yaaron mein rahi yaari na bhaiyyon mein wafadaari

    Mohabbat uth gayi saari, ajab yeh daur aaya hai

    [No friendship remains among friends, no loyalty among brothers.

    All love has departed; a strange era has arrived.]

    Na boyi raasti koi, umar sab jhoot mein khoyi

    Utaari sharm ki loyi, ajab yeh daur aaya hai

    [No one sows the seeds of truth, a whole life wasted in lies.

    The blanket of shame has been cast off; a strange era has arrived.]

    He also employed numerous colloquial idioms. Examples include jis ki lathi us ki bhains (might is right), dhobi ka kutta ghar ka na ghaat ka (the washerman's dog belongs neither to the house nor the riverbank), dubdha mein dono gaye maya mili na Ram (in a dilemma, both are lost—neither wealth nor God is attained), tatte tawe par boond (a drop of water on a hot griddle), bhare samundar (a full ocean), and khokha haath (an empty hand).

    Barkatullah Ishqi's (d. 1729) Awarif-e-Hindi contains seventy-four idioms. Shams-ul-Bayan Mustalahat-e-Hindustan also focuses on this aspect. From the time of Khan Arzu, indigenous Indian elements began to be recognized as authoritative in comparison to Persian. Naji has said:

    Bulandi sun ke Naji Rekhte ki

    Hua hai past shohra Farsi ka

    [Hearing of the heights of Rekhta, O Naji,

    The fame of Persian has been brought low.]

    Sauda says:

    Jo chahe yeh ke kahe Hind ka zabaan-daan sher

    Toh behtar us ke liye Rekhte ka hai aaeen

    [If a master of language in India wishes to compose poetry,

    Then the tradition of Rekhta is best suited for him.]

    Wagarna keh ke woh kyun sher Farsi nahaq

    Hamesha Farsi-daan ka ho mawrid-e-nafrin

    [Otherwise, why should he compose Persian poetry in vain,

    And forever be an object of ridicule for native Persian speakers?]

    Koi zabaan ho lazim hai khoobi-e-mazmoon

    Zabaan-e-Fars pe kuch munhasir sukhan toh nahin

    [Whatever the language, the excellence of the theme is essential;

    Poetry is not solely dependent on the Persian tongue.]

    Kahan tak un ki zabaan ko durust bolega

    Zabaan apni mein tu baandh maani-e-rangeen

    [How long will you try to speak their language flawlessly?

    Weave your colorful meanings in your own native tongue.]

    Mushafi stated that in his time, Rekhta had reached the exalted status of Persian, and had in fact surpassed it.

    In the eighteenth century, all poetic genres began to appear in Urdu, and prose also began to find its way. The ghazal, qasida, musammat, tarkeeb-band, tarjee-band, masnavi, qita, rubai, mustazad, and fard came through Persian influence. Dr. Gian Chand, in his essay Urdu Nazm Aur Us Ke Asnaf (Urdu Poetry and Its Genres)—written for a seminar at the Iqbal Institute and soon to be published—has mentioned the following genres in classical Urdu, that is, Dakhni:

    Mystic songs (Arifana geet), chakri, haqiqat, sehla, si-harfi.

    Social poems: Aankh micholi, sooran nama, nari nama, lagan nama, shadi nama, suhagan nama, chakki nama.

    Religious poems: Noor nama, milad nama, shamail nama, meraj nama, wafat nama.

    Miscellaneous: Bilingual rekhta, versified dictionaries, muamma (riddles), paheli (puzzles).

    Many of these are also found in North India.

    Other Urdu genres—marsiya, shahadat nama, salaam, nauha, shahr ashob, wasokht, rekhti, saqi nama, and sehra—are in addition to these. The number of geet (songs) in Urdu is vast and can be found from the very beginning. First, there are folk songs. These include songs for the occasion of a child's birth, wedding songs or suhaag, songs for seasons and festivals, and occupational songs. Qaisar Jahan in Urdu Geet and Azhar Ali Farooqi in Uttar Pradesh Ke Lok Geet have provided examples of these.

    In my hometown of Badaun, the baramasa (twelve-month seasonal songs) sung in the village of Deoria on the banks of the Ramganga river reflect that Urdu literature of Khari Boli which does not adhere to Arabic and Persian phonetics. In any case, the correct pronunciation of these sounds is rarely found in rural areas. Pointing out a few of the songs I heard the women of my house singing in my childhood will make it clear that these are folk songs. No one knows their authors, but their popularity is undeniable. Now, film songs have also become a trend.

    Hurdangi nand mere paale pari

    [I am stuck with a rowdy sister-in-law]

    Sarota kahan bhool aaye pyare nandoya

    [Where did you forget the nutcracker, dear brother-in-law?]

    Charhi kothe giri aangan, utha lete toh kya hota

    [I climbed the roof and fell into the courtyard; what if you had caught me?]

    Bala laya ri kaali gajar ka halwa

    [The beloved brought black carrot halwa]

    Neem ki nimkoli pakki, Sawan bhi kabhi aawega

    [The neem berries have ripened, Sawan will surely come someday]

    Generally, the tradition of geet in Urdu can be traced back to the time of Wajid Ali Shah and Amanat. However, the influence of the Braj language is very prominent in it. An interesting fact is that, under the influence of the Krishna Bhakti tradition, we also find songs written as naat (in praise of the Prophet) or manqabat (in praise of saints), and this trend continues up to Hasrat Mohani. But since Azmatullah Khan, a substantial body of literary geet has been produced in Urdu. Notable contributions in this regard belong to Inderjeet Sharma, Saghar, Hamidullah Afsar, Hafeez Jalandhari, Meeraji, Nasir Shahzad, and Zubair Rizvi. Nowadays, no major literary magazine is devoid of such songs.

    In the tashbeeb (prelude) of Urdu masnavis and qasidas, we find the depiction of every aspect of our Indian culture. Dr. Muhammad Aziz, in his book Urdu Mein Islam Ke Ilawa Doosre Mazahib Ka Hissa (The Contribution of Religions Other Than Islam in Urdu), has provided a list of translations of the sacred texts of Hinduism, Buddhism, and Sikhism. Hasrat Mohani has written that Banwari Lal Shola's poems were recited on religious occasions in Aligarh and Agra for a long time. The Indian atmosphere is beautifully captured in the tashbeeb of Mohsin Kakorvi's famous naatiya qasida. Observe these verses of his:

    Simt-e-Kashi se chala jaanib-e-Mathura baadal

    Barq ke kaandhe pe laati hai saba Ganga jal

    [From the direction of Kashi, the clouds move toward Mathura;

    The morning breeze carries the water of the Ganges on the shoulders of lightning.]

    Ghar mein ishnan karein sarv-qadaan-e-Gokul

    Jaye Jamuna pe nahana bhi hai ik tool-e-amal

    [Let the cypress-statured beauties of Gokul bathe in their homes;

    Going to bathe in the Jamuna is too lengthy an endeavor.]

    Kaale koson nazar aati hain ghatayein kaali

    Hind ki saari khudai mein buton ka hai amal

    [For miles on end, dark clouds are visible;

    Across the entire realm of India, the idols hold sway.]

    Doobne jaate hain Ganga mein Banaras wale

    Naujawanon ka sanichar hai yeh Burhwa Mangal

    [The people of Banaras go to immerse themselves in the Ganges;

    This Burhwa Mangal festival is a day of misfortune for the youth.]

    Na khula aath pehar ko kabhi do chaar ghari

    Pandrah roz hue paani ko mangal mangal

    [The sky hasn't cleared for even a few hours throughout the day and night;

    It has been raining continuously for fifteen days, from Tuesday to Tuesday.]

    I have called Nazeer Akbarabadi a lover of Indian culture. His poems not only reflect the entire cultural life of that era, but poems like Aadmi Nama, Hans Nama, and Banjara Nama also provide a profound reflection of this culture's humanism, moral perspective, and tolerance. Aadmi Nama, in a way, is a document of humanism that came into existence before the charter of European humanism. By the end of the eighteenth century, Western influences rapidly began to take root here. However, by a miracle of nature, the Indian Renaissance movement also began at the dawn of the nineteenth century. As a result, the awareness of one's own roots, one's own land, one's own atmosphere and environment, and one's own history and culture also grew.

    Under the leadership of Hali and Azad, modern Urdu poetry deepened its focus on earthliness, realism, and patriotism. Poets like Ismail Merethi, Shad Azimabadi, Akbar, Chakbast, Waheeduddin Salim, Safi Lakhnavi, Suroor Jahanabadi, Mahroom, Iqbal, Josh, Saghar, Akhtar Sheerani, Firaq, Mulla, and later the Progressive poets, carried forward this portrayal of the Indian atmosphere and culture. In Akbar's work, we find such vivid depictions of Eastern culture and the Western influences upon it that his poetry can be considered a primary cultural source. Although the wave of Modernism deviated from the didactic purposefulness of the Progressive movement, its portrayal of Indian culture became even more profound. This becomes evident simply by looking at the titles of a few contemporary poems, which Muzaffar Hanfi has mentioned in his essay, Urdu Poetry and Indianness:

    Andheri Nagri (The Dark City), Dussehra, Holi, Diwali, Ganga Ashnan (Bathing in the Ganges), Mandir Jane Wali (The Woman Going to the Temple) — Shad Arifi.

    Amavas Ka Jadoo (The Magic of the Moonless Night) — Hurmatul Ikram.

    Shagun (The Omen) — Makhmoor Saeedi.

    Saraswati Kangal (Destitute Saraswati), Udas (Sad) — Mazhar Imam.

    Kaal Kothri (The Dark Cell), Gautam Ka Khat (Gautam's Letter), Qissa Tota Maina Jadeed (The Modern Tale of the Parrot and the Myna), Lakshman Rekha (Lakshman's Line).

    Ek Suhagan Jhoole Par (A Married Woman on a Swing), Aam Ka Ped Mere Aangan Mein (The Mango Tree in My Courtyard) — Badiuzzaman Khawar.

    Naach Re Nartaki (Dance, O Dancer), Roop Rahan (Mortgaged Beauty) — Amar Sahbai.

    Neelkanth, Rooh Boli Phir Gautam Ki (Gautam's Soul Spoke Again) — Raj Narain Raz.

    Devdas — Salahuddin Parvez.

    Tantric Nazm (Tantric Poem) — Krishan Mohan.

    Gard (Dust), Awagaman (The Cycle of Rebirth), Gaon (Village), Talab Rahat (The Pond and the Persian Wheel) — Adil Mansuri.

    Kaga (The Crow) — Muhammad Alvi.

    Main Gautam Nahin Hoon (I Am Not Gautam) — Khalil-ur-Rehman Azmi.

    Yatri (The Traveler), Pret Aatma (The Ghost), Shyam Nagri (The City of Shyam), Aakash Mein Sair (A Stroll in the Sky), Do Prarthanayein (Two Prayers) — Kumar Pashi.

    Sanjog (Union), Mukti (Salvation) — Qazi Saleem.

    The Urdu ghazal is often called a mere imitation of the Persian ghazal, though nothing could be further from the truth. Although a large portion of Urdu poetry consists of masnavis, marsiyas, and other genres, the ghazal has remained the most popular. It is the art of suggestion. In the words of Firaq, it is a series of extremes. It is a magical talisman containing a treasure trove of meaning. It is both a tale of romance and a scripture of the universe. It does not merely contain the poetry of worship; it also chronicles life's joys and failures, victories and defeats, passions and despairs, love and hate, envy, service, fidelity, betrayal, guidance and banditry, the shore and the storm, and the saga of dying to live and living as if dead. The ghazal is not the entirety of our poetry, but it is undoubtedly its essence. To focus solely on the ghazal, or conversely, to completely ostracize it, are both contrary to the etiquette of literary appreciation.

    In every poetic tradition of the world, religious poetry has played a very prominent role, and it will continue to be written. However, as life moves from simplicity to complexity, as perspective shifts from wonder to contemplation, as society evolves from singularity to multi-layered dimensionality, and as cities increasingly become the centers of life's vibrancy, the rhythm of secular, worldly poetry will also intensify. Perhaps more than any other contemporary Indian language, Urdu poetry intimately understands the world, worldly affairs, and all the mysteries and nuances of human civilization. Urdu society had cultivated a rich communal and social life. It had mastered the etiquette of refinement and grace. It was not reclusive. Its cities were not severed from nature.

    Dr. Tara Chand has written somewhere that during Akbar's reign, one-third of India was covered in forests, and the country's population was ninety million. The cities of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries were not treacherous and sprawling like the cities of today. The pace of life was not so fast. Alongside religiosity, there was also a culture of bohemian revelry (rindi). Villages had been running on the same track for centuries, and the frequent political upheavals only had a temporary impact on them. Maktabs and Pathshalas provided an educational foundation while also instilling certain moral values. There was superstition, but no fanaticism. The elite were not as alienated from the common people as they are today. Beyond major centers like Delhi and Lucknow, other cultural islands had also come into existence.

    In Guzishta Lucknow (The Lucknow of the Past), Sharar beautifully highlighted the contours of the culture that flourished in Lucknow, which immortalized the twilight and vibrancy of the Evening of Awadh. After independence, the focus on India's villages is justified, and the rural reform campaigns are appropriate. However, it is entirely unjust to mock the Indian culture manifested in Urdu literature and the ghazal by labeling it artificial, borrowed, or limited. This is a culture backed by the vibrancy of cities, the diversity of emotions, the elegance of living, customs and traditions, weddings, and the hustle and bustle of fairs and festivals. It is a culture that encompasses both culinary delights and spiritual healing, where wounds are inflicted but balms are also found, where hearts are broken and then mended.

    My teacher, Khwaja Manzoor Hussain, wrote a book titled Ghazal Ka Roop Behroop (The Many Faces of the Ghazal), which clarifies that in the Urdu ghazal, terms like sitamgar (oppressor), raqib (rival), qafas (cage), aashiyan (nest), mauj (wave), girdaab (whirlpool), toofan (storm), sahil (shore), zanjeer (chain), and zindan (prison) possess a political background. Consequently, he provided abundant examples of this from the works of romance-oriented poets like Dagh. Since Hali, this tone has grown even louder in the modern Urdu ghazal, and its zenith is clearly visible in the poetry of Iqbal.

    While the entirety of our shared culture is reflected in our repository of poems, epics, and novels, its true soul is found in our ghazal. It presents the very essence of this culture: its moderation, its balance, its humanism, its martial pride and its refinement, its compassion, its pain and scars, its burning passion and melody, its love and its lust, and especially its non-conformism and humanism. Mir says:

    Aye aahuwan-e-Kaaba na aindo haram ke gird

    Khao kisi ka teer kisi ke shikar ho

    [O deer of the Kaaba, do not just wander aimlessly around the sanctuary;

    Take someone's arrow, become someone's prey.]

    Hum na kehte the ke mat dair-o-haram ki raah chal

    Ab yeh jhagda hashr tak shaikh-o-Brahman mein raha

    [Did I not tell you to avoid the path of the temple and the mosque?

    Now this dispute between the Sheikh and the Brahmin will last until Judgment Day.]

    Aah ta chand rahe khanaqah-o-masjid mein

    Ek toh subh gulistan mein bhi shaam karo

    [Ah, how long will you remain confined to the monastery and the mosque?

    Spend at least one morning turning into evening in the garden.]

    Masjid aisi bhari bhari kab thi

    Maikada ik jahan hai goya

    [When was the mosque ever this crowded?

    The tavern, it seems, is a whole world unto itself.]

    Mat sehal hamein jano, phirta hai falak barson

    Tab khaak ke parde se insaan nikalte hain

    [Do not take us lightly; the heavens revolve for years,

    Only then do true humans emerge from the veil of dust.]

    Aadam-e-khaaki se aalam ko jila hai warna

    Aaina tha yeh magar qabil-e-deedar na tha

    [The universe derives its luster from the human of clay, otherwise,

    It was a mirror, but not one fit for viewing.]

    Look at these couplets by Ghalib:

    Dair-o-haram aaina-e-takrar-e-tamanna

    Waamandagi-e-shauq tarashe hai panahein

    [The temple and the mosque are but mirrors of the repetition of desire;

    It is the exhaustion of passion that carves out these refuges.]

    Hum muwahhid hain, hamara kesh hai tark-e-rusoom

    Millatein jab mit gayin ajza-e-imaan ho gayin

    [We are monotheists; our creed is the abandonment of rituals;

    When religious factions are erased, they become parts of true faith.]

    Nahin kuch subha-o-zunnar ke phande mein geerai

    Wafadari mein shaikh-o-Brahman ki aazmaish hai

    [There is no real grip in the snare of the rosary or the sacred thread;

    The true test of the Sheikh and the Brahmin lies in their fidelity.]

    Tamasha-e-gulshan, tamanna-e-cheedan

    Bahaar aafreena! Gunahgaar hain hum

    [The spectacle of the garden, the desire to pluck the flowers;

    O Creator of Spring! We are indeed sinners.]

    Jab ke tujh bin koi nahin maujood

    Phir yeh hangama aye Khuda kya hai?

    [When nothing exists but You,

    Then what, O God, is all this commotion?]

    Sabza-o-gul kahan se aaye hain

    Abr kya cheez hai, hawa kya hai?

    [Where have the greenery and the roses come from?

    What is the cloud, and what is the wind?]

    Iqbal sings his ghazals thus:

    Isi kaukab ki tabani se hai tera jahan roshan

    Zawal-e-Aadam-e-khaaki ziyan tera hai ya mera

    [Your world is illuminated by the radiance of this very star;

    Is the downfall of the human of clay Your loss, or mine?]

    Urooj-e-Aadam-e-khaaki se anjum sehme jaate hain

    Ke yeh toota hua tara mah-e-kaamil na ban jaye

    [The stars are terrified by the ascent of the human of clay,

    Fearing that this fallen star might become a full moon.]

    Bagh-e-behisht se mujhe hukm-e-safar diya tha kyun

    Kaar-e-jahan daraaz hai ab mera intezaar kar

    [Why did You order me to journey out of the Garden of Eden?

    The work of the world is vast; now, You must wait for me.]

    Qasoorwaar, ghareeb-ud-diyar hoon lekin

    Tera kharaba farishte na kar sake aabad

    [I am guilty, and a stranger in a strange land, but

    The angels could never populate Your desolate world.]

    Mataa-e-be-baha hai dard-o-soz-e-aarzoo mandi

    Maqaam-e-bandagi de kar na loon shaan-e-Khudawandi

    [The pain and burning of longing is a priceless treasure;

    I would not trade the station of servitude for the glory of Godhood.]

    Apne mann mein doob kar pa ja suraagh-e-zindagi

    Tu agar mera nahin banta, na ban apna toh ban

    [Dive into your own soul and find the secret of life;

    If you will not be Mine, so be it, but at least be your own.]

    Fani says:

    Hai mana raah-e-ishq mein dair-o-haram ka hosh

    Yaani kahan se paas hai manzil kahan se door

    [In the path of love, being mindful of the temple and the mosque is forbidden,

    Meaning, from where is the destination near, and from where is it far?]

    Tu kahan hai ke teri raah mein yeh Kaaba-o-dair

    Naqsh ban jaate hain, manzil nahin hone paate

    [Where are you? For in your path, this Kaaba and temple

    Merely become footprints; they can never become the destination.]

    Haram-o-dair ki galiyon mein pade phirte hain

    Bazm-e-rindaan mein jo shaamil nahin hone paate

    [They wander aimlessly in the alleys of the mosque and the temple,

    Those who fail to join the gathering of the intoxicated.]

    There is a couplet by Sadruddin Azurda:

    Kaamil is firqa-e-zuhaad se utha na koi

    Kuchh hue toh yahi rindaan-e-qadah-khwaar hue

    [No one emerged perfect from this sect of the pious,

    If anyone achieved greatness, it was these wine-drinking revelers.]

    Iqbal Suhail says:

    Pahunchee yahan bhi shaikh-o-brahman ki kashmakash

    Ab maikadah bhi sair ke qaabil nahin raha

    [The conflict between the cleric and the Brahmin has reached here too,

    Now, even the tavern is no longer worth visiting.]

    There is a famous couplet by Yagana:

    Buton ko dekh ke sab ne Khuda ko pehchaana

    Khuda ke ghar toh koi banda-e-Khuda na gaya

    [Looking at the idols, everyone recognized God,

    Yet no servant of God ever went to the house of God.]

    Rather than religious fervor, the Urdu ghazal, influenced by Sufism, is the custodian of a universal peace, broad-mindedness, and tolerant worldliness, where the pursuit of love holds central importance. It keeps a watchful eye on its surroundings and on destiny. While it cherishes inner purity, it is equally observant of the physical world's tumult. It perceives the dangers hovering over its existence and possesses an insight into its universe that carries social significance and political consciousness. It considers what ought to be while never remaining oblivious to what is. See what these couplets have to say:

    Yaaraan-e-teez-gaam ne mahmil ko jaa liya

    Hum mahv-e-naala-e-jaras-e-kaarwaan rahe

    — Hali

    [The swift-footed companions caught up with the litter,

    While we remained lost in the lament of the caravan's bell.]

    Qaid ki hadd mein badha li hum ne aazaadi ki hadd

    Yun diye jhatke ke halqe khinch gaye zanjeer ke

    — Arzoo

    [Within the limits of captivity, we expanded the limits of freedom,

    We jolted the chains so hard that their links stretched wide.]

    Shab ko zindaan mein mera sar phodna achha hua

    Kuchh na kuchh toh roshni aane lagi deewaar se

    — Saqib

    [It was good that I smashed my head against the prison wall at night,

    At least some light began to seep through the wall.]

    Baghbaan ne aag di jab aashiyaane ko mere

    Jin pe takiya tha wahi patte hawa dene lage

    — Saqib

    [When the gardener set fire to my nest,

    The very leaves I relied upon began to fan the flames.]

    Zamaana bade shauq se sun raha tha

    Humein so gaye daastaan kehte kehte

    — Saqib

    [The world was listening with great eagerness,

    It was I who fell asleep while telling the tale.]

    The composite culture that Urdu inherits and represents reflects the civilized, refined, colorful, and etiquette-bound life of the cities rather than the villages. Through its symbolism, allusions, phrasing, and style, the ghazal mirrors the ups and downs of this life, its deprivations and intoxications, its sorrows, and its hopes and desires. Because of this, the couplets of the ghazal use various symbols to infuse meaning into every turn of life, every twist of events, and every moment of work and rest. This is why, even today, in speeches, writings, parliamentary debates, seminar sessions, business meetings, public gatherings, and processions, ghazal couplets can immortalize a fleeting moment, turn a single ray into the sun, and transform an incident into a treasure trove of meaning.

    Looking toward the villages after independence makes sense, as it was also necessary. Urban culture, in its elitism, had distanced itself somewhat from the common people and could not tolerate even a speck of the crowd's dust on its pristine clothes. However, this inclination toward the villages was a movement to broaden one's vision. It did not mean a regression to the villages, because the global trend of moving from the village to the city cannot be reversed. The hands of the clock cannot be turned back.

    There is no need to be ashamed of the urbanity and civic sense of the culture manifested in Urdu literature. It does not harbor the sense of alienation and loneliness found in today's treacherous cities. It contains the capacity to share in each other's sorrows, to glance around while walking down the street, and to adhere to the philosophy of taking a brief look, gladdening the heart, feeling fulfilled, and moving on. In it, one finds friends gathered at the bridge, as well as a tavern in the shadow of the mosque. It offers glimpses of the illustrated pages of Delhi's streets and alleys, the gazelles of Lucknow, and the self-adorned idols of Calcutta, as well as those gatherings about which the poet has said:

    Aaye bhi log, baithe bhi, uth bhi khade hue

    Main jaa hi dhoondhta teri mehfil mein reh gaya

    [People came, they sat, and they even got up to leave,

    While I remained just looking for a place in your gathering.]

    Observe the arrival of the North Indian monsoon in this couplet by Safi:

    Ghata uthi hai kaali aur kaali hoti jaati hai

    Suraahi jo bhari jaati hai khaali hoti jaati hai

    [The dark clouds have risen and are growing darker still,

    The goblet that is being filled is simultaneously emptying.]

    Or:

    Barq ko abr ne daaman mein chhupa dekha hai

    Hum ne us shokh ko majboor-e-haya dekha hai

    — Fani

    [The cloud has been seen hiding the lightning in its lap,

    I have seen that playful one compelled by modesty.]

    Ajab aalam hai mauj-e-barq ke pehloo mein baadal ka

    Teri ulti hui si aasteen maaloom hoti hai

    — Fani

    [Strange is the state of the cloud beside the wave of lightning,

    It looks just like your rolled-up sleeve.]

    And many of us constantly repeat this couplet by Mir:

    Chalte ho toh chaman ko chaliye, kehte hain ke bahaaraan hai

    Paat hare hain, phool khile hain, kam kam baad-o-baaraan hai

    [If you wish to walk, let us go to the garden, they say it is spring,

    The leaves are green, the flowers have bloomed, and there is a gentle breeze and rain.]

    The ghazal also holds these images of our culture in its world-revealing goblet:

    Khat badha, zulfein badhein, kaakul badhe, gesu badhe

    Husn ki sarkaar mein jitne badhe Hindu badhe

    — Zauq

    [The facial hair grew, the tresses grew, the curls grew, the locks grew,

    In the kingdom of beauty, whoever prospered was a Hindu.]

    Agar ni ka hai gumaan, shak hai malagiri ka

    Rang laaya hai dupatta tera maila ho kar

    — Saba

    [If there is an illusion of indigo, there is a suspicion of sandalwood color,

    Your scarf has brought out such hues by becoming soiled.]

    Khoob parda hai ke chilman se lage baithe hain

    Saaf chhupte bhi nahin saamne aate bhi nahin

    — Daagh

    [What a fine veil this is, that they sit pressed against the bamboo blind,

    Neither hiding completely, nor coming out into the open.]

    Aur baazaar se le aaye, agar toot gaya

    Saaghar-e-Jam se mera jaam-e-sifaal achha hai

    — Ghalib

    [I can just bring another from the market if it breaks,

    My clay cup is far better than the legendary Goblet of Jamshid.]

    Hum ne chaaha tha ke faryaad karein haakim se

    Woh bhi kambakht tera chaahne waala nikla

    — Nazeer Akbarabadi

    [I had wanted to complain to the magistrate,

    But that wretched man turned out to be your lover too.]

    Qareeb hai yaar roz-e-mahshar, chhupega kushton ka khoon kyunkar

    Jo chup rahegi zabaan-e-khanjar, lahoo pukaarega aasteen ka

    — Ameer Minai

    [The Day of Judgment is near, my friend, how will the blood of the murdered stay hidden?

    Even if the tongue of the dagger remains silent, the blood on the sleeve will cry out.]

    It is said that Syed Mahmood quoted this couplet in one of his judgments while sentencing an accused despite the lack of eyewitness testimony:

    Fasl-e-gul aayi ya ajal aayi kyun dar-e-zindaan khulta hai

    Kya koi wehshi aur aa pahuncha, ya koi qaidi chhoot gaya

    — Fani

    [Has the season of spring arrived, or has death come? Why is the prison door opening?

    Has another madman arrived, or has a prisoner been set free?]

    Khirad ka naam junoon pad gaya junoon ka khirad

    Jo chaahe aap ka husn-e-karishma-saaz kare

    — Hasrat

    [Reason was named madness, and madness was named reason,

    Your miracle-working beauty can do whatever it pleases.]

    Naawak ne tere said na chhoda zamaane mein

    Tadpe hai murgh-e-qibla-numa aashiyaane mein

    — Sauda

    [Your arrow left no prey untouched in the world,

    Even the weathercock writhes in its nest.]

    See the reflection of the independence movement in these couplets:

    Haddiyan hain kai lipti hui zanjeeron mein

    Liye jaate hain janaaza tere deewane ka

    — Fani

    [Just a few bones wrapped in chains,

    They are carrying the funeral procession of your mad lover.]

    Ik khoon-chakaan kafan mein karodon banao hain

    Padti hai aankh tere shaheedon par hoor ki

    — Ghalib

    [In a single blood-drenched shroud, there are millions of adornments,

    When the maiden of paradise casts her eyes upon your martyrs.]

    And observe the anguish of the modern era in these couplets:

    Hum hain mataa-e-koocha-o-baazaar ki tarah

    Uthti hai har nigaah khareedaar ki tarah

    — Majrooh

    [We are like the commodities of the street and the market,

    Every gaze that rises looks at us like a buyer.]

    Jaane kis simt chalun, kaun si reh mud jaaun

    Mujh se mat mil ke zamaane ki hawa hoon main bhi

    — Mazhar Imam

    [Who knows which direction I will take, which path I will turn down,

    Do not meet me, for I too am like the wind of the times.]

    Aag ke sholon se saara shehar roshan ho gaya

    Ho mubaarak aarzoo-e-khaar-o-khas poori hui

    — Shahryar

    [The entire city has been illuminated by the flames of fire,

    Congratulations, the desire of the thorns and dry grass has been fulfilled.]

    Kuchh adaayein hain jinhein qatl-e-abas hai manzoor

    Kuchh sazaayein hain jo milti hain khata se pehle

    — Fani

    [There are some charms that approve of senseless murder,

    There are some punishments that are meted out before the crime.]

    A brief mention of Rekhti also seems necessary, in which we find a highly delightful depiction of women's language and some of their emotions within our culture. It would be unfair to interpret Rekhti merely as the behind-the-veil secrets of a specific culture. The elegance of language and the softness of tone found in it unveil certain aspects of the Indian character of a particular class:

    Ab main woh odhne ki nahin kal ki odhni

    Baaji mujhe mangaa do jhalaa-jhal ki odhni

    [I am not going to wear yesterday's scarf anymore,

    Sister, get me a glittering, sequined scarf.]

    Mangwaayi gaun sabz thi, le aaye behen surkh

    Qutaama banun, pehnun Muharram mein behen surkh

    [I asked for a green gown, but sister, they brought a red one,

    Shall I become a harlot and wear red during Muharram, sister?]

    Zara ghar ko Rangeen ke tehqeeq kar lo

    Yahan se hai ke paise doli kahaaro

    [Just go and investigate the house of Rangeen,

    O palanquin bearers, how much is the fare from here?]

    Rotiyaan kaun pakaaye tere saare ghar ki

    Ae bua kaun nikalwaaye palethan apna

    [Who is going to bake bread for your entire household?

    Oh aunt, who would want to get covered in dry flour?]

    Mat rakh is nanhi si hi jaan mein waari roza

    Bandi rakh legi tere badle hazaari roza

    [Do not keep a fast upon this tiny little life, my dear,

    Your humble servant will keep a thousand fasts in your stead.]

    Aye bua main na hui Hazrat-e-Shabbir ke saath

    Khoon pee leti muey Shimr ka main sheer ke saath

    [Oh sister, alas that I was not there with Hazrat Shabbir,

    I would have drunk the wretched Shimr's blood along with my milk.]

    Hui ushshaq mein mashhoor, Yusuf sa jawan taaka

    Bua hum auraton mein tha bada deeda Zuleikha ka

    [She became famous among lovers, having set her sights on a youth like Yusuf,

    Oh sister, among us women, Zuleikha had the most daring eyes.]

    Nazeer Akbarabadi is everything to our culture—its lover, commentator, expositor, and spokesperson—but the reflection of this culture in the marsiyas (elegies) of Anees possesses a remarkable charm and grandeur. Kaleemuddin Ahmad once criticized these elegies, arguing that in them, Imam Hussain appears not as a warrior of Karbala, but as a bridegroom of Lucknow. However, poetry is not history. The brilliance that radiates from Anees’s elegies stems precisely from the Indianness of his characters. Since this aspect has already received considerable critical attention, I will simply note before moving on that in Anees’s work, the depictions of nature, the scenes of morning and evening, the deserts and gardens, the intense heat, the portraits of young boys and girls and the reflection of their emotions, the dynamics between sisters-in-law (nand and bhavaj), and the use of feminine idioms—all are brought to life by the culture of Lucknow, which adds immense value to their beauty and emotional impact.

    On the surface, there should have been no need to say anything about the relationship between Urdu and Indian culture, as Urdu is a modern Indian language and a magnificent manifestation of our composite culture. However, certain circles have expressed views that continue to wield significant influence. Consequently, in independent India, neither has the Indianness of Urdu been fully acknowledged, nor is there a widespread desire to embrace the rich heritage of the composite culture it represents.

    Furthermore, since the country's independence was accompanied by its partition, every issue began to be viewed through a narrow political lens. Urdu, too, fell victim to this limited political perspective. Although it has been more than thirty-seven years since independence, there are still obstacles in the teaching and usage of this language. The Constitution has granted it certain rights, but their implementation remains highly inadequate. The promotion of Indian literature after independence has certainly increased the popularity of Urdu literature. There are also considerable facilities available at the higher education level. The Sahitya Akademi and various state academies have contributed to the enrichment of Urdu's literary wealth. Through films and mushairas (poetry symposiums), the popularity of the Urdu language and its poetry is greater than ever before. However, there is no provision for education in the Urdu medium at the primary and secondary levels, nor is there adequate training for Urdu teachers. The language formula has not been implemented honestly, nor are the legitimate rights of Urdu protected in states where Hindi is the official language.

    The reality is that Indian democracy, despite the leadership of Jawaharlal Nehru, has not been able to rise above a revivalism that equates India solely with ancient India, and whose slogan does not extend beyond Hindi, Hindu, and Hindustan. Public opinion holds immense importance in a democracy. Therefore, it is essential to protect public opinion from the distortions it is falling prey to due to cheap politics.

    An independent India—an India that believes in democracy—embraces the entirety of Indian history and all its heritage. It embraces its culture, which is diverse in appearance yet unified at its core. It encompasses the colorful tapestry stretching from Kashmir to Kanyakumari and from Gujarat to Guwahati, along with all its historical imprints and monuments. It embraces its languages, its fields and pastures, its industrial institutions and factories, its mountains, rivers, forests, and plains. It embraces its sophisticated urbanites and its simple masses, its pandits and scholars, and its unlettered villagers. It watches over them all, and the heartbeat of every single one of them resonates within its own. As Ghalib says:

    Hai rang-e-lala-o-gul-o-nasreen juda juda

    Har rang mein bahaar ka isbaat chahiye

    [The colors of the tulip, the rose, and the wild eglantine are all distinct,

    Yet in every color, the presence of spring must be affirmed.]

    Sar pa-e-khum pe chahiye hangaam-e-mai-kashi

    Roo su-e-qibla waqt-e-munajaat chahiye

    [During the drinking of wine, the head should be at the foot of the wine-jar,

    During the time of prayer, the face should be turned towards the Qibla.]

    Yaani ba-hasb-e-gardish-e-paimana-e-sifaat

    Aarif hamesha mast-e-mai-e-zaat chahiye

    [Meaning, in accordance with the circulation of the goblet of attributes,

    The mystic must always remain intoxicated by the wine of the Divine Essence.]

    We must keep in mind this expansive understanding of essence and attributes.

    This subcontinent, also known as South Asia, is essentially the cradle of three cultural streams. The first is the indigenous culture of South Asia, which, for the sake of convenience, can be identified as the Dravidian culture. The second is the culture of Southeast Asia, whose influence stretches from Bengal to Malaya and Indonesia. The third is the Central Asian and West Asian culture. It is a historical fact that Indian history and culture are a composite of these three elements, and we cannot afford to ignore any of them. The original inhabitants of India were the Proto-Negroids, whose descendants can still be found in the Andaman and Nicobar Islands today. Later, the Dravidian culture spread across the country, until the arrival of the Aryans pushed it south of the Vindhya range.

    Suniti Kumar Chatterji has noted that despite the dominance of the Aryans, the profound influence of Dravidian culture can still be seen abundantly in the civilization that emerged after the Aryans spread across North India. In other words, alongside the influence of the conquering tribes, the influence of the conquered tribes continued to play its part. In the seventh century, Islamic influences first reached Malabar through Arab traders, leaving an indelible mark on the life of the region. However, these influences were felt much more strongly, first in Sindh and later in Punjab. Nevertheless, the reality is that the cultural impact of West Asia became much deeper and more enduring following the invasions of Mahmud of Ghazni and, subsequently, the Ghurids.

    Buddhism had already spread to Central Asia, and Buddhist influences had merged with Islamic influences to shape the culture that the Turks and Mughals later brought to India. These influences are particularly evident in Kashmir, where the local architecture clearly reflects Buddhist elements. The people of these regions spoke Turkish, but their literary language was Persian. It is a historical fact that direct Arabic influence in India was minimal; rather, it arrived largely filtered through Persian influence. What we refer to today as Islamic culture is, in the words of Iqbal, simply another name for the inner passion of the Arab and the aesthetic grace of the Ajam (non-Arab world). And the term Ajam encompasses Iran, Turan, and Turkey alike.

    The profound impact of religion on culture cannot be denied, yet every culture is also shaped by geographical, historical, and psychological elements. From the very beginning, Indian culture has been characterized by the continuous incorporation of external influences. However, through a process of assimilation and absorption, both local and foreign elements have blended together, manifesting all these influences in a unique and distinct hue. Therefore, it is far more appropriate to call it a composite culture.

    The Himalayas, the Bay of Bengal, and the Arabian Sea have bestowed a geographical unity upon India. Yet, alongside this geographical unity, history has endowed it with a vibrant diversity, a multifaceted nature, and a Ganga-Jamuni (syncretic) character. Political changes occurred constantly, but India's rural agrarian system continued along its traditional path. During the reign of Ashoka, the Gupta period, and the era of Akbar, a vast portion of the country remained under a single political authority. Despite this, distinct cultural islands persisted in various regions. Under British rule, the country once again achieved political unity, a sense that only deepened after independence. However, it is essential to emphasize both the vibrant diversity of Indian culture and the underlying unity within that diversity, as this is the most defining characteristic of this civilization.

    Just like race, no culture is ever entirely pure. The twists and turns of history, new inclinations and trends, and new technologies all leave their mark. Nevertheless, the geographical landscape—its mountains, rivers, plains, deserts, and mountain passes—continuously shapes and defines cultural values. This very geography influences the climate, the seasons, the forests, as well as the clothing, customs, fairs, and festivals of the people. Religions, beliefs, modes of worship, and rituals all exert their influence on culture. Therefore, when conceptualizing Indian culture, it is imperative to keep in mind the entirety of Indian history, every historical shift, and the consequences of those shifts.

    During the colonial era—the period of British rule—British historians, officers, scholars, and missionaries popularized a one-sided, flawed, and superficial concept of Indian culture. Unfortunately, even Indians accepted this view. Even a great man like Sir Syed was so dazzled by the outward glamour of Western culture that, in his letters from London, he declared an ordinary English maid to be more civilized than an Indian noblewoman. While there is no denying that certain elements of Western culture are highly developed, this does not mean we must label Eastern or Indian culture as inferior and Western culture as superior. The advancement of certain cultural elements often comes at the expense of others. Therefore, in the study of culture, the concept of Cultural Relativism is now considered a much healthier and more comprehensive approach.

    The second important point is that, following independence, a powerful wave of revivalism emerged in our country. I distinctly remember that in 1947, Jawaharlal Nehru stated that we had been freed from nearly two hundred years of subjugation. However, Govind Ballabh Pant, the Chief Minister of Uttar Pradesh, declared in Lucknow that we had been freed from a thousand years of slavery. This was a grave injustice to history, yet no voice was raised against it at the time. Jawaharlal Nehru was the Prime Minister of the country, while Pant ji was merely the Chief Minister of a state. Nevertheless, the majority preferred Pant ji's narrative. In 1962, we organized the Jashn-e-Bahadur Shah Zafar (a celebration of Bahadur Shah Zafar) at the Red Fort, which was presided over by Jawaharlal Nehru. Standing in the Diwan-e-Aam (Hall of Public Audience), he proclaimed that the Mughals were our own, thereby emphasizing the inherent Indianness of Mughal culture. Yet, Pandit ji's words were merely heard and left at that.

    Several languages flourished during India's ancient period, with Pali and Sanskrit holding the greatest significance. In fact, I am willing to concede that Sanskrit must be regarded as the key to understanding the thoughts, intellectual development, and philosophies of ancient India. This, however, does not diminish the inherent importance of regional languages. Similarly, the key to the medieval period is Persian—an Aryan language that left a profound impact on regional languages. Suniti Kumar Chatterji went so far as to say that even if there had been no central Muslim government in Delhi, modern Indian languages would still have developed, but that progress would have been significantly delayed.

    Nevertheless, it is an undeniable fact that during the medieval period of our history, Persian was used for official purposes, influencing all spheres of life. Concurrently, modern Indian languages evolved beyond mere spoken dialects and began producing literature. It should also be noted that although the Persian that flourished in India remained confined to a specific class—namely scholars, government officials, and the nobility—it amassed a rich repository of academic, religious, literary, and historical wealth. This Persian was distinct from Iranian Persian and eventually came to be known as Sabk-e-Hindi (the Indian style). It flourished extensively across Central Asia, Afghanistan, and the subcontinent, and the linguistic similarities shared across these regions distinguish it from Iranian Persian.

    The key to the modern era is, undoubtedly, English. The influence of English can be seen across all Indian languages, and this impact is quite pervasive. In fact, it is now argued that English—or Indian English—is one of the languages of India, boasting commendable works of not just prose, but poetry as well. English culture has also significantly influenced Indian culture. Like other Indian languages, it has left a profound mark on Urdu language and literature, which will be discussed further on.

    What exactly is meant by culture? And which elements require attention when studying it? To answer this question, we must first establish a comprehensive definition of culture. In his book Qaumi Tehzeeb Ka Masla (The Problem of National Culture), Dr. Abid Husain defines culture as follows:

    Culture is the harmonious consciousness of values held by a human community. It is given an objective form through their collective institutions, and individuals manifest it in their emotions and inclinations, their temperament and behavior, and in the impact they have on material objects.

    Elaborating on this definition, he distinguishes culture (tehzeeb) from religion (mazhab) and civilization (tamaddun). He considers the spirit of religion—that is, the inner experience that reveals the reality and purpose of life and the universe to us, thereby validating our values—to be the true essence of culture, and all of culture to be its manifestation. However, when religion is understood in its objective form—where the experience of reality is institutionalized—he views it merely as a component of culture, no matter how crucial that component may be. Civilization and culture are often treated as synonymous, but for Abid Husain, civilization represents the advanced state of culture's material aspect. In his words, if the luxuries of civilized life render nations indifferent to religion and morality, or make them so indolent that they can no longer defend themselves, then a hollow and obsolete civilization must be dismantled in order to breathe new life into culture.

    India is an ancient society, yet it is a young nation. This concept of nationalism originated in the West. While patriotism has existed from the very beginning and is inherent to human nature, Indian nationalism is a product of the modern era. It has not yet become the guiding principle of everyday life, nor does it resonate in every heartbeat. Furthermore, within Indian nationalism, the sub-nationalities of various regions maintain their own distinct identities, which we might call their distinguishing characteristics. Nevertheless, all these regional identities collectively complete Indian nationalism and its culture. Therefore, no comprehensive definition of Indian culture can afford to ignore India's multifaceted brilliance, its all-encompassing nature, and the underlying unity that exists despite its diversity.

    In 1871, Edward Tylor stated:

    Culture is that complex whole which includes knowledge, belief, art, morals, law, custom, and any other capabilities and habits acquired by man as a member of society.

    While acknowledging the significance of this definition, scholars eventually divided into two schools of thought. One, led by Kroeber, introduced the theory of cultural patterns, while the other placed greater emphasis on social structure. Kroeber’s definition of culture is as follows:

    Culture consists of patterns, explicit or implicit, of and for behavior acquired and transmitted by symbols, constituting the distinctive achievements of human groups, including their embodiments in artifacts; the essential core of culture consists of traditional (i.e., historically devised and selected) ideas and especially their attached values; culture systems may, on the one hand, be considered as products of action, on the other as conditioning elements of further action. (Kroeber and Kluckhohn, 1952)

    Culture is composed of those patterns of disposition and behavior that are explicit or implicit, and which are acquired or transmitted through symbols. These symbols consist of the specific achievements of human groups and take shape in artifacts. The soul of culture is tradition—that is, ideas (historically devised and selected) and especially their attached values. Cultural systems can be called the products of action on one hand, and elements that influence action on the other. Culture is, in a way, acquired behavior, but it focuses not just on behavior itself, but on the standards of behavior, which include dispositions and actions derived from an ideology. Thus, culture is composed of the art of living and the etiquette of leisure, behind which lie certain social values. Some of these are universal moral values, while others reflect the needs of a specific stage of society. Therefore, it is now accepted that no culture is superior or inferior to another. However, certain cultures do develop a greater capacity for advancement.

    It has been said of ancient Indian culture that it placed greater emphasis on civilization rather than progress. This civilization was more concerned with the spiritual contemplation of the cosmos, showing less resolve to ease the struggles of earthly life. Consequently, during the medieval period of our history, it required an infusion of new blood aided by new technology. After a prolonged period of struggle, it finally achieved a sense of poise and dignity, which became the defining characteristic of the Mughal era.

    Although this culture was shaded by religion, it had recognized the importance of worldly passions and pursuits—or, in other words, it had mastered the art of living. Its intellectual framework was influenced by Sufism, reflecting the philosophy of Hama Oost (All is He / Pantheism). The teachings of the Sufis and the Bhakti movement had fostered a spirit of tolerance that shunned religious fanaticism and insisted on witnessing the manifestation of truth in all its diverse forms. It encompassed everything: religiosity alongside a free-spirited bohemianism, firmness of faith coupled with broad-mindedness and tolerance in conduct, the refinements of urbanity alongside a closeness to nature, and a deep connection to the earth paired with the unfettered flight of the mind.

    Naturally, due to the influences of Central and Western Asia, the beautiful imprints of the Indian Muslims' lifeblood were more prominent within it, and the influence of Persian was dominant. However, as Professor Mujeeb notes in his book Indian Muslims, this was entirely natural; the imagination requires nourishment, and it found this sustenance in Persian literature.

    Urdu is a modern Indian language. It is the literary manifestation of Khari Boli, a dialect whose native region encompasses Delhi, Meerut, and the Rohilkhand division. Dhirendra Verma has also acknowledged that, from a historical perspective, the usage of Khari Boli Urdu began much earlier than that of Khari Boli Hindi. The earliest specimens of Urdu, aside from the scattered phrases and sentences of Sufi mystics, are found exclusively in poetic form. The meter of these surviving examples is generally Hindi. The quintessential Hindi poetic meter (chhand) is the doha. Among Muslim Sufi poets writing in Hindi, the doha and chaupai were immensely popular meters. The oldest examples of Urdu verse are composed in the doha meter. The poetry of Baba Farid, preserved in the Guru Granth Sahib, is entirely in the doha meter. Similarly, the first authentic example of Amir Khusrau’s Hindavi or Hindi poetry takes the form of a doha. Later poets like Sauda, Hatim, Insha, Jur'at, and Nazeer all composed dohas as well.

    The chaupai meter is also found in the works of Deccani poets. Some Deccani poets even employed Hindi meters in their ghazals. Prior to Wali Daccani, Deccani literature was deeply influenced by Hindi and Hindu mythology. A substantial corpus of Urdu literature from the seventeenth century survives in the Deccan, bearing the undeniable stamp of the Indian temperament. In fact, this influence is so profound that a tendency has emerged among Hindi scholars to classify this entire body of classical Urdu literature simply as Hindi.

    With Wali, a Persianate (Ajami) tone was introduced into our literature, though this did not mean an abandonment of local color. Rather, the intention was to absorb those broader Asian elements that would endow the language with greater depth, vibrancy, and refinement. Similar transitional periods have occurred in the West within the English, French, German, and Russian languages. In North India, Urdu literature dates back to the eighteenth century. According to modern research, there are several surviving prose specimens from this era which suggest that, even before the establishment of Fort William College, Urdu prose was already striving to free itself from the overwhelming influence of Persian.

    Some of our critics have exclusively focused on the highly ornate style of Nau Tarz-e-Murassa when evaluating North Indian prose. However, works such as Qissa Mehr Afroz-o-Dilbar, Tafseer-e-Muradiya, Mouzah-ul-Quran, Nau Aaeen-e-Hindi, Rasm Ali's Qissa-o-Ahwal-e-Rohilla, and Shah Alam II's Ajaib-ul-Qasas tell a very different story. In light of this evidence, it would not be incorrect to assert that Urdu prose had already found its distinct path prior to Fort William College. Its sentence structure had already broken free from Persian syntax, and early specimens of critical, scholarly, historical, religious, and fictional prose had all made their appearance.

    When Maulvi Abdul Haq wrote his Qawaid-e-Urdu (Urdu Grammar), he boldly proclaimed, Urdu is a purely Hindi language. Why should its grammar be Arabic? He went so far as to suggest that Urdu’s prosody (arooz) should be based on Hindi, and further expressed the view that abandoning specific Arabic sounds would not cause any linguistic confusion. Masud Husain Khan even went as far as to describe these archaic sounds as dead corpses. According to the lexical count of the Farhang-e-Asifiya dictionary, out of fifty-four thousand Urdu words, fifty percent are of Hindi origin, while 23.25 percent are formed through a blend of Hindi and Persian. Thus, the total proportion of indigenous Hindustani words reaches 73.5 percent. It can be said with certainty that in contemporary Urdu, this ratio exceeds three-quarters, as a vast number of Hindi words have been assimilated into the language since Independence.

    We must distinguish between two concepts of culture. One was the concept generally recognized as the culture of the nobility of Lucknow and Delhi. It was influenced more by the royal court than by the marketplace or the Sufi shrine. Its language was also elitist, but we must not forget that its standard, too, was the steps of Delhi's Jama Masjid, as Mir has noted. The literature of poetry and literary prose, in any case, maintains a stricter sense of hierarchy and decorum compared to spoken language. However, just as literature has a broad definition that encompasses the entire body of written work, the true meaning of culture encompasses the society and culture of both the masses and the elite—their way of life, wedding customs, fairs, festival celebrations, songs, and fine arts.

    If we examine this entire wealth of Urdu literature that has been committed to writing, through which all aspects of life have been expressed, the Indianness of Urdu literature becomes undeniable. Orthodox critics dismissed Jafar Zatalli's poetry as obscene and ignored it, but how can its historical and linguistic importance be denied? Jafar Zatalli died in 1713. Observe these verses of his:

    Gaya ikhlaas aalam se ajab yeh daur aaya hai

    Dare sab khalq zaalim se ajab yeh daur aaya hai

    [Sincerity has vanished from the world; a strange era has arrived.

    All creation fears the tyrant; a strange era has arrived.]

    Na yaaron mein rahi yaari na bhaiyyon mein wafadaari

    Mohabbat uth gayi saari, ajab yeh daur aaya hai

    [No friendship remains among friends, no loyalty among brothers.

    All love has departed; a strange era has arrived.]

    Na boyi raasti koi, umar sab jhoot mein khoyi

    Utaari sharm ki loyi, ajab yeh daur aaya hai

    [No one sows the seeds of truth, a whole life wasted in lies.

    The blanket of shame has been cast off; a strange era has arrived.]

    He also employed numerous colloquial idioms. Examples include jis ki lathi us ki bhains (might is right), dhobi ka kutta ghar ka na ghaat ka (the washerman's dog belongs neither to the house nor the riverbank), dubdha mein dono gaye maya mili na Ram (in a dilemma, both are lost—neither wealth nor God is attained), tatte tawe par boond (a drop of water on a hot griddle), bhare samundar (a full ocean), and khokha haath (an empty hand).

    Barkatullah Ishqi's (d. 1729) Awarif-e-Hindi contains seventy-four idioms. Shams-ul-Bayan Mustalahat-e-Hindustan also focuses on this aspect. From the time of Khan Arzu, indigenous Indian elements began to be recognized as authoritative in comparison to Persian. Naji has said:

    Bulandi sun ke Naji Rekhte ki

    Hua hai past shohra Farsi ka

    [Hearing of the heights of Rekhta, O Naji,

    The fame of Persian has been brought low.]

    Sauda says:

    Jo chahe yeh ke kahe Hind ka zabaan-daan sher

    Toh behtar us ke liye Rekhte ka hai aaeen

    [If a master of language in India wishes to compose poetry,

    Then the tradition of Rekhta is best suited for him.]

    Wagarna keh ke woh kyun sher Farsi nahaq

    Hamesha Farsi-daan ka ho mawrid-e-nafrin

    [Otherwise, why should he compose Persian poetry in vain,

    And forever be an object of ridicule for native Persian speakers?]

    Koi zabaan ho lazim hai khoobi-e-mazmoon

    Zabaan-e-Fars pe kuch munhasir sukhan toh nahin

    [Whatever the language, the excellence of the theme is essential;

    Poetry is not solely dependent on the Persian tongue.]

    Kahan tak un ki zabaan ko durust bolega

    Zabaan apni mein tu baandh maani-e-rangeen

    [How long will you try to speak their language flawlessly?

    Weave your colorful meanings in your own native tongue.]

    Mushafi stated that in his time, Rekhta had reached the exalted status of Persian, and had in fact surpassed it.

    In the eighteenth century, all poetic genres began to appear in Urdu, and prose also began to find its way. The ghazal, qasida, musammat, tarkeeb-band, tarjee-band, masnavi, qita, rubai, mustazad, and fard came through Persian influence. Dr. Gian Chand, in his essay Urdu Nazm Aur Us Ke Asnaf (Urdu Poetry and Its Genres)—written for a seminar at the Iqbal Institute and soon to be published—has mentioned the following genres in classical Urdu, that is, Dakhni:

    Mystic songs (Arifana geet), chakri, haqiqat, sehla, si-harfi.

    Social poems: Aankh micholi, sooran nama, nari nama, lagan nama, shadi nama, suhagan nama, chakki nama.

    Religious poems: Noor nama, milad nama, shamail nama, meraj nama, wafat nama.

    Miscellaneous: Bilingual rekhta, versified dictionaries, muamma (riddles), paheli (puzzles).

    Many of these are also found in North India.

    Other Urdu genres—marsiya, shahadat nama, salaam, nauha, shahr ashob, wasokht, rekhti, saqi nama, and sehra—are in addition to these. The number of geet (songs) in Urdu is vast and can be found from the very beginning. First, there are folk songs. These include songs for the occasion of a child's birth, wedding songs or suhaag, songs for seasons and festivals, and occupational songs. Qaisar Jahan in Urdu Geet and Azhar Ali Farooqi in Uttar Pradesh Ke Lok Geet have provided examples of these.

    In my hometown of Badaun, the baramasa (twelve-month seasonal songs) sung in the village of Deoria on the banks of the Ramganga river reflect that Urdu literature of Khari Boli which does not adhere to Arabic and Persian phonetics. In any case, the correct pronunciation of these sounds is rarely found in rural areas. Pointing out a few of the songs I heard the women of my house singing in my childhood will make it clear that these are folk songs. No one knows their authors, but their popularity is undeniable. Now, film songs have also become a trend.

    Hurdangi nand mere paale pari

    [I am stuck with a rowdy sister-in-law]

    Sarota kahan bhool aaye pyare nandoya

    [Where did you forget the nutcracker, dear brother-in-law?]

    Charhi kothe giri aangan, utha lete toh kya hota

    [I climbed the roof and fell into the courtyard; what if you had caught me?]

    Bala laya ri kaali gajar ka halwa

    [The beloved brought black carrot halwa]

    Neem ki nimkoli pakki, Sawan bhi kabhi aawega

    [The neem berries have ripened, Sawan will surely come someday]

    Generally, the tradition of geet in Urdu can be traced back to the time of Wajid Ali Shah and Amanat. However, the influence of the Braj language is very prominent in it. An interesting fact is that, under the influence of the Krishna Bhakti tradition, we also find songs written as naat (in praise of the Prophet) or manqabat (in praise of saints), and this trend continues up to Hasrat Mohani. But since Azmatullah Khan, a substantial body of literary geet has been produced in Urdu. Notable contributions in this regard belong to Inderjeet Sharma, Saghar, Hamidullah Afsar, Hafeez Jalandhari, Meeraji, Nasir Shahzad, and Zubair Rizvi. Nowadays, no major literary magazine is devoid of such songs.

    In the tashbeeb (prelude) of Urdu masnavis and qasidas, we find the depiction of every aspect of our Indian culture. Dr. Muhammad Aziz, in his book Urdu Mein Islam Ke Ilawa Doosre Mazahib Ka Hissa (The Contribution of Religions Other Than Islam in Urdu), has provided a list of translations of the sacred texts of Hinduism, Buddhism, and Sikhism. Hasrat Mohani has written that Banwari Lal Shola's poems were recited on religious occasions in Aligarh and Agra for a long time. The Indian atmosphere is beautifully captured in the tashbeeb of Mohsin Kakorvi's famous naatiya qasida. Observe these verses of his:

    Simt-e-Kashi se chala jaanib-e-Mathura baadal

    Barq ke kaandhe pe laati hai saba Ganga jal

    [From the direction of Kashi, the clouds move toward Mathura;

    The morning breeze carries the water of the Ganges on the shoulders of lightning.]

    Ghar mein ishnan karein sarv-qadaan-e-Gokul

    Jaye Jamuna pe nahana bhi hai ik tool-e-amal

    [Let the cypress-statured beauties of Gokul bathe in their homes;

    Going to bathe in the Jamuna is too lengthy an endeavor.]

    Kaale koson nazar aati hain ghatayein kaali

    Hind ki saari khudai mein buton ka hai amal

    [For miles on end, dark clouds are visible;

    Across the entire realm of India, the idols hold sway.]

    Doobne jaate hain Ganga mein Banaras wale

    Naujawanon ka sanichar hai yeh Burhwa Mangal

    [The people of Banaras go to immerse themselves in the Ganges;

    This Burhwa Mangal festival is a day of misfortune for the youth.]

    Na khula aath pehar ko kabhi do chaar ghari

    Pandrah roz hue paani ko mangal mangal

    [The sky hasn't cleared for even a few hours throughout the day and night;

    It has been raining continuously for fifteen days, from Tuesday to Tuesday.]

    I have called Nazeer Akbarabadi a lover of Indian culture. His poems not only reflect the entire cultural life of that era, but poems like Aadmi Nama, Hans Nama, and Banjara Nama also provide a profound reflection of this culture's humanism, moral perspective, and tolerance. Aadmi Nama, in a way, is a document of humanism that came into existence before the charter of European humanism. By the end of the eighteenth century, Western influences rapidly began to take root here. However, by a miracle of nature, the Indian Renaissance movement also began at the dawn of the nineteenth century. As a result, the awareness of one's own roots, one's own land, one's own atmosphere and environment, and one's own history and culture also grew.

    Under the leadership of Hali and Azad, modern Urdu poetry deepened its focus on earthliness, realism, and patriotism. Poets like Ismail Merethi, Shad Azimabadi, Akbar, Chakbast, Waheeduddin Salim, Safi Lakhnavi, Suroor Jahanabadi, Mahroom, Iqbal, Josh, Saghar, Akhtar Sheerani, Firaq, Mulla, and later the Progressive poets, carried forward this portrayal of the Indian atmosphere and culture. In Akbar's work, we find such vivid depictions of Eastern culture and the Western influences upon it that his poetry can be considered a primary cultural source. Although the wave of Modernism deviated from the didactic purposefulness of the Progressive movement, its portrayal of Indian culture became even more profound. This becomes evident simply by looking at the titles of a few contemporary poems, which Muzaffar Hanfi has mentioned in his essay, Urdu Poetry and Indianness:

    Andheri Nagri (The Dark City), Dussehra, Holi, Diwali, Ganga Ashnan (Bathing in the Ganges), Mandir Jane Wali (The Woman Going to the Temple) — Shad Arifi.

    Amavas Ka Jadoo (The Magic of the Moonless Night) — Hurmatul Ikram.

    Shagun (The Omen) — Makhmoor Saeedi.

    Saraswati Kangal (Destitute Saraswati), Udas (Sad) — Mazhar Imam.

    Kaal Kothri (The Dark Cell), Gautam Ka Khat (Gautam's Letter), Qissa Tota Maina Jadeed (The Modern Tale of the Parrot and the Myna), Lakshman Rekha (Lakshman's Line).

    Ek Suhagan Jhoole Par (A Married Woman on a Swing), Aam Ka Ped Mere Aangan Mein (The Mango Tree in My Courtyard) — Badiuzzaman Khawar.

    Naach Re Nartaki (Dance, O Dancer), Roop Rahan (Mortgaged Beauty) — Amar Sahbai.

    Neelkanth, Rooh Boli Phir Gautam Ki (Gautam's Soul Spoke Again) — Raj Narain Raz.

    Devdas — Salahuddin Parvez.

    Tantric Nazm (Tantric Poem) — Krishan Mohan.

    Gard (Dust), Awagaman (The Cycle of Rebirth), Gaon (Village), Talab Rahat (The Pond and the Persian Wheel) — Adil Mansuri.

    Kaga (The Crow) — Muhammad Alvi.

    Main Gautam Nahin Hoon (I Am Not Gautam) — Khalil-ur-Rehman Azmi.

    Yatri (The Traveler), Pret Aatma (The Ghost), Shyam Nagri (The City of Shyam), Aakash Mein Sair (A Stroll in the Sky), Do Prarthanayein (Two Prayers) — Kumar Pashi.

    Sanjog (Union), Mukti (Salvation) — Qazi Saleem.

    The Urdu ghazal is often called a mere imitation of the Persian ghazal, though nothing could be further from the truth. Although a large portion of Urdu poetry consists of masnavis, marsiyas, and other genres, the ghazal has remained the most popular. It is the art of suggestion. In the words of Firaq, it is a series of extremes. It is a magical talisman containing a treasure trove of meaning. It is both a tale of romance and a scripture of the universe. It does not merely contain the poetry of worship; it also chronicles life's joys and failures, victories and defeats, passions and despairs, love and hate, envy, service, fidelity, betrayal, guidance and banditry, the shore and the storm, and the saga of dying to live and living as if dead. The ghazal is not the entirety of our poetry, but it is undoubtedly its essence. To focus solely on the ghazal, or conversely, to completely ostracize it, are both contrary to the etiquette of literary appreciation.

    In every poetic tradition of the world, religious poetry has played a very prominent role, and it will continue to be written. However, as life moves from simplicity to complexity, as perspective shifts from wonder to contemplation, as society evolves from singularity to multi-layered dimensionality, and as cities increasingly become the centers of life's vibrancy, the rhythm of secular, worldly poetry will also intensify. Perhaps more than any other contemporary Indian language, Urdu poetry intimately understands the world, worldly affairs, and all the mysteries and nuances of human civilization. Urdu society had cultivated a rich communal and social life. It had mastered the etiquette of refinement and grace. It was not reclusive. Its cities were not severed from nature.

    Dr. Tara Chand has written somewhere that during Akbar's reign, one-third of India was covered in forests, and the country's population was ninety million. The cities of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries were not treacherous and sprawling like the cities of today. The pace of life was not so fast. Alongside religiosity, there was also a culture of bohemian revelry (rindi). Villages had been running on the same track for centuries, and the frequent political upheavals only had a temporary impact on them. Maktabs and Pathshalas provided an educational foundation while also instilling certain moral values. There was superstition, but no fanaticism. The elite were not as alienated from the common people as they are today. Beyond major centers like Delhi and Lucknow, other cultural islands had also come into existence.

    In Guzishta Lucknow (The Lucknow of the Past), Sharar beautifully highlighted the contours of the culture that flourished in Lucknow, which immortalized the twilight and vibrancy of the Evening of Awadh. After independence, the focus on India's villages is justified, and the rural reform campaigns are appropriate. However, it is entirely unjust to mock the Indian culture manifested in Urdu literature and the ghazal by labeling it artificial, borrowed, or limited. This is a culture backed by the vibrancy of cities, the diversity of emotions, the elegance of living, customs and traditions, weddings, and the hustle and bustle of fairs and festivals. It is a culture that encompasses both culinary delights and spiritual healing, where wounds are inflicted but balms are also found, where hearts are broken and then mended.

    My teacher, Khwaja Manzoor Hussain, wrote a book titled Ghazal Ka Roop Behroop (The Many Faces of the Ghazal), which clarifies that in the Urdu ghazal, terms like sitamgar (oppressor), raqib (rival), qafas (cage), aashiyan (nest), mauj (wave), girdaab (whirlpool), toofan (storm), sahil (shore), zanjeer (chain), and zindan (prison) possess a political background. Consequently, he provided abundant examples of this from the works of romance-oriented poets like Dagh. Since Hali, this tone has grown even louder in the modern Urdu ghazal, and its zenith is clearly visible in the poetry of Iqbal.

    While the entirety of our shared culture is reflected in our repository of poems, epics, and novels, its true soul is found in our ghazal. It presents the very essence of this culture: its moderation, its balance, its humanism, its martial pride and its refinement, its compassion, its pain and scars, its burning passion and melody, its love and its lust, and especially its non-conformism and humanism. Mir says:

    Aye aahuwan-e-Kaaba na aindo haram ke gird

    Khao kisi ka teer kisi ke shikar ho

    [O deer of the Kaaba, do not just wander aimlessly around the sanctuary;

    Take someone's arrow, become someone's prey.]

    Hum na kehte the ke mat dair-o-haram ki raah chal

    Ab yeh jhagda hashr tak shaikh-o-Brahman mein raha

    [Did I not tell you to avoid the path of the temple and the mosque?

    Now this dispute between the Sheikh and the Brahmin will last until Judgment Day.]

    Aah ta chand rahe khanaqah-o-masjid mein

    Ek toh subh gulistan mein bhi shaam karo

    [Ah, how long will you remain confined to the monastery and the mosque?

    Spend at least one morning turning into evening in the garden.]

    Masjid aisi bhari bhari kab thi

    Maikada ik jahan hai goya

    [When was the mosque ever this crowded?

    The tavern, it seems, is a whole world unto itself.]

    Mat sehal hamein jano, phirta hai falak barson

    Tab khaak ke parde se insaan nikalte hain

    [Do not take us lightly; the heavens revolve for years,

    Only then do true humans emerge from the veil of dust.]

    Aadam-e-khaaki se aalam ko jila hai warna

    Aaina tha yeh magar qabil-e-deedar na tha

    [The universe derives its luster from the human of clay, otherwise,

    It was a mirror, but not one fit for viewing.]

    Look at these couplets by Ghalib:

    Dair-o-haram aaina-e-takrar-e-tamanna

    Waamandagi-e-shauq tarashe hai panahein

    [The temple and the mosque are but mirrors of the repetition of desire;

    It is the exhaustion of passion that carves out these refuges.]

    Hum muwahhid hain, hamara kesh hai tark-e-rusoom

    Millatein jab mit gayin ajza-e-imaan ho gayin

    [We are monotheists; our creed is the abandonment of rituals;

    When religious factions are erased, they become parts of true faith.]

    Nahin kuch subha-o-zunnar ke phande mein geerai

    Wafadari mein shaikh-o-Brahman ki aazmaish hai

    [There is no real grip in the snare of the rosary or the sacred thread;

    The true test of the Sheikh and the Brahmin lies in their fidelity.]

    Tamasha-e-gulshan, tamanna-e-cheedan

    Bahaar aafreena! Gunahgaar hain hum

    [The spectacle of the garden, the desire to pluck the flowers;

    O Creator of Spring! We are indeed sinners.]

    Jab ke tujh bin koi nahin maujood

    Phir yeh hangama aye Khuda kya hai?

    [When nothing exists but You,

    Then what, O God, is all this commotion?]

    Sabza-o-gul kahan se aaye hain

    Abr kya cheez hai, hawa kya hai?

    [Where have the greenery and the roses come from?

    What is the cloud, and what is the wind?]

    Iqbal sings his ghazals thus:

    Isi kaukab ki tabani se hai tera jahan roshan

    Zawal-e-Aadam-e-khaaki ziyan tera hai ya mera

    [Your world is illuminated by the radiance of this very star;

    Is the downfall of the human of clay Your loss, or mine?]

    Urooj-e-Aadam-e-khaaki se anjum sehme jaate hain

    Ke yeh toota hua tara mah-e-kaamil na ban jaye

    [The stars are terrified by the ascent of the human of clay,

    Fearing that this fallen star might become a full moon.]

    Bagh-e-behisht se mujhe hukm-e-safar diya tha kyun

    Kaar-e-jahan daraaz hai ab mera intezaar kar

    [Why did You order me to journey out of the Garden of Eden?

    The work of the world is vast; now, You must wait for me.]

    Qasoorwaar, ghareeb-ud-diyar hoon lekin

    Tera kharaba farishte na kar sake aabad

    [I am guilty, and a stranger in a strange land, but

    The angels could never populate Your desolate world.]

    Mataa-e-be-baha hai dard-o-soz-e-aarzoo mandi

    Maqaam-e-bandagi de kar na loon shaan-e-Khudawandi

    [The pain and burning of longing is a priceless treasure;

    I would not trade the station of servitude for the glory of Godhood.]

    Apne mann mein doob kar pa ja suraagh-e-zindagi

    Tu agar mera nahin banta, na ban apna toh ban

    [Dive into your own soul and find the secret of life;

    If you will not be Mine, so be it, but at least be your own.]

    Fani says:

    Hai mana raah-e-ishq mein dair-o-haram ka hosh

    Yaani kahan se paas hai manzil kahan se door

    [In the path of love, being mindful of the temple and the mosque is forbidden,

    Meaning, from where is the destination near, and from where is it far?]

    Tu kahan hai ke teri raah mein yeh Kaaba-o-dair

    Naqsh ban jaate hain, manzil nahin hone paate

    [Where are you? For in your path, this Kaaba and temple

    Merely become footprints; they can never become the destination.]

    Haram-o-dair ki galiyon mein pade phirte hain

    Bazm-e-rindaan mein jo shaamil nahin hone paate

    [They wander aimlessly in the alleys of the mosque and the temple,

    Those who fail to join the gathering of the intoxicated.]

    There is a couplet by Sadruddin Azurda:

    Kaamil is firqa-e-zuhaad se utha na koi

    Kuchh hue toh yahi rindaan-e-qadah-khwaar hue

    [No one emerged perfect from this sect of the pious,

    If anyone achieved greatness, it was these wine-drinking revelers.]

    Iqbal Suhail says:

    Pahunchee yahan bhi shaikh-o-brahman ki kashmakash

    Ab maikadah bhi sair ke qaabil nahin raha

    [The conflict between the cleric and the Brahmin has reached here too,

    Now, even the tavern is no longer worth visiting.]

    There is a famous couplet by Yagana:

    Buton ko dekh ke sab ne Khuda ko pehchaana

    Khuda ke ghar toh koi banda-e-Khuda na gaya

    [Looking at the idols, everyone recognized God,

    Yet no servant of God ever went to the house of God.]

    Rather than religious fervor, the Urdu ghazal, influenced by Sufism, is the custodian of a universal peace, broad-mindedness, and tolerant worldliness, where the pursuit of love holds central importance. It keeps a watchful eye on its surroundings and on destiny. While it cherishes inner purity, it is equally observant of the physical world's tumult. It perceives the dangers hovering over its existence and possesses an insight into its universe that carries social significance and political consciousness. It considers what ought to be while never remaining oblivious to what is. See what these couplets have to say:

    Yaaraan-e-teez-gaam ne mahmil ko jaa liya

    Hum mahv-e-naala-e-jaras-e-kaarwaan rahe

    — Hali

    [The swift-footed companions caught up with the litter,

    While we remained lost in the lament of the caravan's bell.]

    Qaid ki hadd mein badha li hum ne aazaadi ki hadd

    Yun diye jhatke ke halqe khinch gaye zanjeer ke

    — Arzoo

    [Within the limits of captivity, we expanded the limits of freedom,

    We jolted the chains so hard that their links stretched wide.]

    Shab ko zindaan mein mera sar phodna achha hua

    Kuchh na kuchh toh roshni aane lagi deewaar se

    — Saqib

    [It was good that I smashed my head against the prison wall at night,

    At least some light began to seep through the wall.]

    Baghbaan ne aag di jab aashiyaane ko mere

    Jin pe takiya tha wahi patte hawa dene lage

    — Saqib

    [When the gardener set fire to my nest,

    The very leaves I relied upon began to fan the flames.]

    Zamaana bade shauq se sun raha tha

    Humein so gaye daastaan kehte kehte

    — Saqib

    [The world was listening with great eagerness,

    It was I who fell asleep while telling the tale.]

    The composite culture that Urdu inherits and represents reflects the civilized, refined, colorful, and etiquette-bound life of the cities rather than the villages. Through its symbolism, allusions, phrasing, and style, the ghazal mirrors the ups and downs of this life, its deprivations and intoxications, its sorrows, and its hopes and desires. Because of this, the couplets of the ghazal use various symbols to infuse meaning into every turn of life, every twist of events, and every moment of work and rest. This is why, even today, in speeches, writings, parliamentary debates, seminar sessions, business meetings, public gatherings, and processions, ghazal couplets can immortalize a fleeting moment, turn a single ray into the sun, and transform an incident into a treasure trove of meaning.

    Looking toward the villages after independence makes sense, as it was also necessary. Urban culture, in its elitism, had distanced itself somewhat from the common people and could not tolerate even a speck of the crowd's dust on its pristine clothes. However, this inclination toward the villages was a movement to broaden one's vision. It did not mean a regression to the villages, because the global trend of moving from the village to the city cannot be reversed. The hands of the clock cannot be turned back.

    There is no need to be ashamed of the urbanity and civic sense of the culture manifested in Urdu literature. It does not harbor the sense of alienation and loneliness found in today's treacherous cities. It contains the capacity to share in each other's sorrows, to glance around while walking down the street, and to adhere to the philosophy of taking a brief look, gladdening the heart, feeling fulfilled, and moving on. In it, one finds friends gathered at the bridge, as well as a tavern in the shadow of the mosque. It offers glimpses of the illustrated pages of Delhi's streets and alleys, the gazelles of Lucknow, and the self-adorned idols of Calcutta, as well as those gatherings about which the poet has said:

    Aaye bhi log, baithe bhi, uth bhi khade hue

    Main jaa hi dhoondhta teri mehfil mein reh gaya

    [People came, they sat, and they even got up to leave,

    While I remained just looking for a place in your gathering.]

    Observe the arrival of the North Indian monsoon in this couplet by Safi:

    Ghata uthi hai kaali aur kaali hoti jaati hai

    Suraahi jo bhari jaati hai khaali hoti jaati hai

    [The dark clouds have risen and are growing darker still,

    The goblet that is being filled is simultaneously emptying.]

    Or:

    Barq ko abr ne daaman mein chhupa dekha hai

    Hum ne us shokh ko majboor-e-haya dekha hai

    — Fani

    [The cloud has been seen hiding the lightning in its lap,

    I have seen that playful one compelled by modesty.]

    Ajab aalam hai mauj-e-barq ke pehloo mein baadal ka

    Teri ulti hui si aasteen maaloom hoti hai

    — Fani

    [Strange is the state of the cloud beside the wave of lightning,

    It looks just like your rolled-up sleeve.]

    And many of us constantly repeat this couplet by Mir:

    Chalte ho toh chaman ko chaliye, kehte hain ke bahaaraan hai

    Paat hare hain, phool khile hain, kam kam baad-o-baaraan hai

    [If you wish to walk, let us go to the garden, they say it is spring,

    The leaves are green, the flowers have bloomed, and there is a gentle breeze and rain.]

    The ghazal also holds these images of our culture in its world-revealing goblet:

    Khat badha, zulfein badhein, kaakul badhe, gesu badhe

    Husn ki sarkaar mein jitne badhe Hindu badhe

    — Zauq

    [The facial hair grew, the tresses grew, the curls grew, the locks grew,

    In the kingdom of beauty, whoever prospered was a Hindu.]

    Agar ni ka hai gumaan, shak hai malagiri ka

    Rang laaya hai dupatta tera maila ho kar

    — Saba

    [If there is an illusion of indigo, there is a suspicion of sandalwood color,

    Your scarf has brought out such hues by becoming soiled.]

    Khoob parda hai ke chilman se lage baithe hain

    Saaf chhupte bhi nahin saamne aate bhi nahin

    — Daagh

    [What a fine veil this is, that they sit pressed against the bamboo blind,

    Neither hiding completely, nor coming out into the open.]

    Aur baazaar se le aaye, agar toot gaya

    Saaghar-e-Jam se mera jaam-e-sifaal achha hai

    — Ghalib

    [I can just bring another from the market if it breaks,

    My clay cup is far better than the legendary Goblet of Jamshid.]

    Hum ne chaaha tha ke faryaad karein haakim se

    Woh bhi kambakht tera chaahne waala nikla

    — Nazeer Akbarabadi

    [I had wanted to complain to the magistrate,

    But that wretched man turned out to be your lover too.]

    Qareeb hai yaar roz-e-mahshar, chhupega kushton ka khoon kyunkar

    Jo chup rahegi zabaan-e-khanjar, lahoo pukaarega aasteen ka

    — Ameer Minai

    [The Day of Judgment is near, my friend, how will the blood of the murdered stay hidden?

    Even if the tongue of the dagger remains silent, the blood on the sleeve will cry out.]

    It is said that Syed Mahmood quoted this couplet in one of his judgments while sentencing an accused despite the lack of eyewitness testimony:

    Fasl-e-gul aayi ya ajal aayi kyun dar-e-zindaan khulta hai

    Kya koi wehshi aur aa pahuncha, ya koi qaidi chhoot gaya

    — Fani

    [Has the season of spring arrived, or has death come? Why is the prison door opening?

    Has another madman arrived, or has a prisoner been set free?]

    Khirad ka naam junoon pad gaya junoon ka khirad

    Jo chaahe aap ka husn-e-karishma-saaz kare

    — Hasrat

    [Reason was named madness, and madness was named reason,

    Your miracle-working beauty can do whatever it pleases.]

    Naawak ne tere said na chhoda zamaane mein

    Tadpe hai murgh-e-qibla-numa aashiyaane mein

    — Sauda

    [Your arrow left no prey untouched in the world,

    Even the weathercock writhes in its nest.]

    See the reflection of the independence movement in these couplets:

    Haddiyan hain kai lipti hui zanjeeron mein

    Liye jaate hain janaaza tere deewane ka

    — Fani

    [Just a few bones wrapped in chains,

    They are carrying the funeral procession of your mad lover.]

    Ik khoon-chakaan kafan mein karodon banao hain

    Padti hai aankh tere shaheedon par hoor ki

    — Ghalib

    [In a single blood-drenched shroud, there are millions of adornments,

    When the maiden of paradise casts her eyes upon your martyrs.]

    And observe the anguish of the modern era in these couplets:

    Hum hain mataa-e-koocha-o-baazaar ki tarah

    Uthti hai har nigaah khareedaar ki tarah

    — Majrooh

    [We are like the commodities of the street and the market,

    Every gaze that rises looks at us like a buyer.]

    Jaane kis simt chalun, kaun si reh mud jaaun

    Mujh se mat mil ke zamaane ki hawa hoon main bhi

    — Mazhar Imam

    [Who knows which direction I will take, which path I will turn down,

    Do not meet me, for I too am like the wind of the times.]

    Aag ke sholon se saara shehar roshan ho gaya

    Ho mubaarak aarzoo-e-khaar-o-khas poori hui

    — Shahryar

    [The entire city has been illuminated by the flames of fire,

    Congratulations, the desire of the thorns and dry grass has been fulfilled.]

    Kuchh adaayein hain jinhein qatl-e-abas hai manzoor

    Kuchh sazaayein hain jo milti hain khata se pehle

    — Fani

    [There are some charms that approve of senseless murder,

    There are some punishments that are meted out before the crime.]

    A brief mention of Rekhti also seems necessary, in which we find a highly delightful depiction of women's language and some of their emotions within our culture. It would be unfair to interpret Rekhti merely as the behind-the-veil secrets of a specific culture. The elegance of language and the softness of tone found in it unveil certain aspects of the Indian character of a particular class:

    Ab main woh odhne ki nahin kal ki odhni

    Baaji mujhe mangaa do jhalaa-jhal ki odhni

    [I am not going to wear yesterday's scarf anymore,

    Sister, get me a glittering, sequined scarf.]

    Mangwaayi gaun sabz thi, le aaye behen surkh

    Qutaama banun, pehnun Muharram mein behen surkh

    [I asked for a green gown, but sister, they brought a red one,

    Shall I become a harlot and wear red during Muharram, sister?]

    Zara ghar ko Rangeen ke tehqeeq kar lo

    Yahan se hai ke paise doli kahaaro

    [Just go and investigate the house of Rangeen,

    O palanquin bearers, how much is the fare from here?]

    Rotiyaan kaun pakaaye tere saare ghar ki

    Ae bua kaun nikalwaaye palethan apna

    [Who is going to bake bread for your entire household?

    Oh aunt, who would want to get covered in dry flour?]

    Mat rakh is nanhi si hi jaan mein waari roza

    Bandi rakh legi tere badle hazaari roza

    [Do not keep a fast upon this tiny little life, my dear,

    Your humble servant will keep a thousand fasts in your stead.]

    Aye bua main na hui Hazrat-e-Shabbir ke saath

    Khoon pee leti muey Shimr ka main sheer ke saath

    [Oh sister, alas that I was not there with Hazrat Shabbir,

    I would have drunk the wretched Shimr's blood along with my milk.]

    Hui ushshaq mein mashhoor, Yusuf sa jawan taaka

    Bua hum auraton mein tha bada deeda Zuleikha ka

    [She became famous among lovers, having set her sights on a youth like Yusuf,

    Oh sister, among us women, Zuleikha had the most daring eyes.]

    Nazeer Akbarabadi is everything to our culture—its lover, commentator, expositor, and spokesperson—but the reflection of this culture in the marsiyas (elegies) of Anees possesses a remarkable charm and grandeur. Kaleemuddin Ahmad once criticized these elegies, arguing that in them, Imam Hussain appears not as a warrior of Karbala, but as a bridegroom of Lucknow. However, poetry is not history. The brilliance that radiates from Anees’s elegies stems precisely from the Indianness of his characters. Since this aspect has already received considerable critical attention, I will simply note before moving on that in Anees’s work, the depictions of nature, the scenes of morning and evening, the deserts and gardens, the intense heat, the portraits of young boys and girls and the reflection of their emotions, the dynamics between sisters-in-law (nand and bhavaj), and the use of feminine idioms—all are brought to life by the culture of Lucknow, which adds immense value to their beauty and emotional impact.

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