Rakshanda Jalil who has been writing extensively on the role of Urdu as a language and the role of its writers/poets in the Indian socio-political scenario pre-independence and post-independence, speaks to The Goan about the current status of Urdu in the country
The Goan: Could you throw light on the current status of Urdu literature in India and outside?
Rakshanda Jalil: There is no denying that Urdu has shrunk in importance in India; it is no longer the lingua franca it once was, nor does it carry much financial traction. Indeed there are fewer and fewer jobs waiting for the poor boy from a madrasa or Urdu-medium school, and yes people might view you with some suspicion if you are caught reading an Urdu book on a public transport, especially if you have a skull cap and beard as extra accessories. And, yes, you might even be asked to go to Pakistan, where you belong, when you post an Urdu verse too any on social media. But those are aberrations and one must, stoically and steadfastly look for the glass that is half full rather than half empty. Also, in my experience, the positivity surrounding Urdu far exceeds the negativity and there can be no denying that a new set of people are claiming ownership and learning to use Urdu in new and innovative ways. Urdu belongs to no single state or community; it is ready and waiting to be appropriated by anyone, irrespective of caste, creed or credentials, who is willing to look beyond the stereotypes and straightjackets. Yes, fewer people read Urdu in its script but sufficiently large numbers claim it as their own both north and south of the Vindhyas. And, no, Indian Muslims have no hegemonic claim over Urdu. There is nothing to link Urdu, emotionally or theologically, with Islam. The ‘namaz' is not offered in Urdu, the ‘khutba' certainly is in the language best understood by the congregation - be it Malyalam or Telugu or Bangla, or Urdu as the case may be.
Languages do not belong to a particular region or religion. Yet, Urdu has been subjected to divisions in this regard.
There has always been a fringe element (now gaining ascendancy alas) that has believed that with the ‘taqseem' or ‘batwara' of 1947, Urdu, the foreign or alien language, the language of the invaders, the language of Muslims went away to Pakistan and what stayed with us was ours: Hindi, the ‘rashtra bhasha', the language of India. And even before the partition, it has been alleged, Urdu was content to wallow in the romantic tropes of ‘shama-parwana' and escapist fantasies in the Persian-Arabic ‘dastaan' tradition whereas Hindi had an organic link with ‘desh-bhakti' and ‘swaraj'. Such a willfully-created binary is both untrue and criminally dangerous. Not only does it link language with religion but also belittles and discounts an entire literary tradition. A phalange of Urdu writers - those belonging to the powerful literary grouping known as the Progressive Writers' Association (PWA) as well as the loose cannons who did not believe in movements and associations and had no discernible ideological mooring, nevertheless produced a body of work that aided and abetted a growing sense of nationalism, or ‘wataniyat' as it was called in Urdu.
How prevalent is the Urdu language in India today?
The slogan ‘Inquilab Zindabad' was coined by the Urdu poet, Iqbal, and later used at a trade union rally in Calcutta by another Urdu poet, Hasrat Mohani. Today this slogan is the enduring cry of revolutionaries both north and south of the Vindhyas. The same Iqbal who is derided for being an exponent of the Two-Nation Theory also wrote the sweetly lyrical ‘Saare jahan Se Achcha Hindostan Hamara'. Politicians of all ilk still resort to fragments of Urdu poetry when they resort to ‘sher-o-shairi' on the floor of the Parliament, in public rallies and in political discourse. Then there is the inclusion of writers such as Manto and Ismat, Bedi and Krishan Chandar in university syllabi and the growing popularity of translations. Urdu is very much around us.
