In defence of a language

As long as a language is yoked to a particular faith—as Urdu often is with Islam—it neither grows freely nor is understood in its fullness. Yet Urdu today is widely seen as a Muslim language, partly because it is the national language of Pakistan. Such identification carries political overtones, though there is little empirical evidence to suggest that Urdu and Muslims are mutually exclusive categories. Can a language belong to a religion? Or can it be claimed by geography alone? Writer Rakhshanda Jalil addresses these questions in Whose Urdu Is It Anyway? a collection of sixteen Urdu short stories written by non-Muslim authors that challenge persistent stereotypes and misconceptions.

A supple and expressive language, Urdu emerged from cultural hybridization in the Indian subcontinent in the eighteenth century. What we recognize as Urdu today carries influences from Turkish, Arabic, and Persian, languages that reached the region through waves of trade, migration, and conquest. Over time, it became the preferred medium for poets and writers, who deployed its elegance not only in literature but also in the performing arts.

In the collection, stories by progressive writers such as Krishan Chander and Rajinder Singh Bedi, alongside film writers like Ramanand Sagar and Gulzar, reflect the remarkable thematic and tonal diversity of Urdu literature. The careful selection underscores a larger cultural idea: that Urdu literature, vast and layered, still has the potential to reach the far corners of the popular imagination.

The book poses a quiet but loaded question about a hybrid language that drew from many linguistic streams and once served as the elite lingua franca of medieval India. Over the course of its evolution, it was known by several names — Hindavi, Hindi, Rekhta, and eventually Urdu.

Some stories address the notion of proprietorship over language. Jalil’s selection remains largely representative of both the time and the people they depict. Many narratives foreground the small, often overlooked individual living on the margins, struggling to survive in a society where gender discrimination was a norm. Most stories are set in the early years after Independence, when a newly formed nation was grappling with questions of identity, belonging, and nationhood. In many ways, these concerns echo the present moment, when a surge of nationalism shapes public discourse.

The stories also demonstrate that language is shaped far more by region than by religion. Muslims in Kerala speak Malayalam, while those in West Bengal are at home in Bengali. The language, therefore, cannot be confined to a single religious identity. “It belongs to whoever is willing to embrace it,” Jalil writes. She allows readers the space to absorb the essence of these stories at their own pace. Urdu, after all, evolved through the voices of ordinary people.

Whose Urdu is it anyway?
by Rakhshanda Jalil
Simon&Schuster, New Delhi. 
Extent: 180, Price. Rs. 499.

Published in New Indian Express on March 22, 2026.