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.

A language that refuses to be caged

Renu Behl, author of the story on gender discrimination Draupadi has woken up, reminds the reader that Urdu was and continues to be the language of the land of the five rivers. This is one of the sixteen short stories written by non-muslims in the volume Whose Urdu Is It Anyway, collated to support the argument that religion is not connected to language. And if language gets yoked to a religion, in this case Urdu with Muslim, it does no good to either the language or the religion. 

Ever since Urdu got adopted the official language of Pakistan, it has been considered the language of muslims, or to be more precise, the language of Indian.muslims. But that seems erroneous because Urdu was born out of the cultural hybridization in the Indian subcontinent during 18th century. What we know as Urdu today can be traced back to Turkish, Arabic, and Persian influence, all of which arrived in the country through waves of trade and conquests. It became the preferred language by the masses. 

But identifying Urdu with muslims has political implications although there is no empirical evidence in favor of this relationship. Can language belong to a religion, or can a geographical claim be laid over a language?  Literary historian Rakhshanda Jalil explores the question through sixteen carefully selected Urdu short stories by non-muslim writers to help bust stereotypes and misconceptions. Any attempt at identifying a language with religion is fraught with a cruel denial of heritage.  

Stories by the well-known non-muslim writers, to name a few, like Krishan Chander, Rajinder Singh Bedi, Kanhaiyalal Kapoor, Devendar Issar, Ramanand Sagar, and Gulzar speak of glorious diversity of issues in different tones and tenors. The idea of objectively selecting these stories affirm the ‘idea of India’, showcasing that Urdu as a language is alive and that it does not belong to muslims only. Including these short stories, there is a vast treasure of Urdu literature that can still reach the nooks and crannies of popular imagination. 

Whose Urdu Is It Anyway? is a loaded query on a hybrid language that borrowed words from many languages - mostly from Persian – and became the elite lingua franca of medieval India. The evolution of ‘rekhta’ acknowledges Urdu as a hybrid language and seeks to popularize it. Interestingly, such is the trend that there are more people who intend pursuing it orally than those who may pursue it as written language. Urdu following is growing irrespective of its religious identity it locates in the heart of Hindustan.   

Do handful of stories address the question on so-called proprietorship over the language? Rakhshanda Jalil has tried to be objective in selecting stories that remain representative of the time and the people. Most narratives haven’t missed the small person who lived on the margins of public consciousness in eking out a living, and when gender indiscrimination was more of a norm than exception. While most stories are located in the early years after independence when a new kind of nativism was being talked about, and when the fledgling nation was grappling with issues of identity and nationhood. It reminds us starkly of the present times when a similar surge of hyper-nationalism is being witnessed. 

The collection of short stories by non-muslim writers represent the region to which they belong, and not their religion. That’s why muslims in Kerala speak malyalam whereas those in Bengal feel at home in bengali. Not without reason, Urdu is and continues to be language in Punjab. As a region and not as a state. That is why Urdu as a language is not confined to a religion. ‘It belongs to whoever is willing to embrace it and in their capable hands, it is willing to be molded like pliable clay.’

Rakhshanda Jalil leaves the reader take his/her time for the essence of these stories to sink in. After all, Urdu has evolved as a language by the people. It does not belong to any state or religion.  

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

First published in Deccan Herald on September 14, 2025

Is language not a wild beast?

Language is a human invention that is bound to evolve with time to suit changing communication needs.

Threat to the existence of languages seems unreal to Lane Greene for whom language is like a wolf, robust, organic and evolving to suit the changing conditions in the wild. With infectious enthusiasm, the polyglot columnist considers the deep strangeness of language to be its savior against potential vulnerability. After all it is a human invention that is bound to evolve with time with different users contextualizing it to suit their communication needs. If that be so, why shifts in expressions and meanings of words should be worrisome? It is only the purists who love one dialect may take it as an imminent sign of linguistic ruin.

Written words do abide by grammatical conventions, but it is the spoken language which is continually in flux ‘providing speaker a menu of options for getting ideas effectively into the reader’s mind.’ Each language has two sides to it - one formal and the other normal, with the formal having a limited role. Profiling the changes that are sweeping the language (English), Greene wonders when the purists will appreciate normal English as relevant because ‘formal written language isn’t the only form of language that matters.’ Language is a many-faceted thing. Slang and dialect, jocular and off-beat, teen-speak and text-driven, and, corporate jargon and political ramble. Do these forms pose a threat to language or enhance its versatility? While this could be open to differing interpretations, it does show that each facet fills a distinct need. ‘Not all language is well behaved, nor does it need to be.’

Erudite and ebullient, Talk on the Wild Side argues that decentralized changes are not only acceptable but inherent to language. Else, neither will language live nor will it continue to be spoken by people. Humans have done important things with languages, and continue to do without letting them fall apart into pieces. The wild side of language is that it is adaptable, but that hardly applies to native languages which easily fall prey to the hegemony of dominant languages. That being not the subject of his inquiry. Greene instead argues that language doesn’t fall apart even when people do novel things with it or adapt it to suit varied needs. Every language, therefore, remains a unique product of human genius.

The core idea behind this immensely readable book is that language is always changing, influenced by externalities of the times. The words may not mean the same they did a century ago, and there is nothing wrong with it because languages always evolve towards simplicity. Greene cites the word buxom, which originally meant pliable, then happy/gay, and now, a large-chested woman. The need is to accept language as it remains relevant to the context in which it is adapted. The fact that English language enriches itself by integrating words from other languages (especially Hindi) every other year bears testimony to its absorptive capacity of integrating words from other cultures. That is the dynamic nature of language.

However, there are purists who fear that such integration corrupts language, and which may eventually bring its terminal decline. Such impression may be far from truth. The vast majority of language experts today - those who really understand what language is and how it works, rather than those who focus on how they think it ought to work - sit closer to the descriptivist camp, rather than being prescriptivists. Arguing instead that the latter group is wrong, Greene feels that language can never be tamed or shaped to the will of a select few prescriptivists who keep nuances of grammar closer to their chest without realizing that the regimentation of language may bring its downfall. Language should be allowed to evolve.

Talk on the Wild Side is full of sweet spots that unfold many aspects of language in an ever-changing world. It is both a guide to the great debates and controversies of usage, as well as a love letter to language itself. It touches upon contemporary developments in technology to generate and create languages, or to help with translations. These aren’t flawless! However, letting the power of language slip into the domain of technology is fraught with political control. As language is inextricably connected to power, majority-language nationalism may lead to political upheaval. Allowing the one who’s holding the sword will eventually decide who’s mispronouncing the word. The future of language, therefore, should be in the hands of those who use it. Instead of attempting to tame it, we should allow it to roam freely and evolve in its own way. Greene is clear that neither is thought language nor grammar. Language is culture, dynamic and evolving. 

Talk on the Wild Side 
by Lane Greene
Hachette Books, US 
Extent: 240, Price: US$ 26.

First published in Seminar, #742, dated June 2021.