In Uttar Pradesh, a language of loss: the decline of Urdu
Naeem Ahmed, 58, stands on a stool and arranges books. He concentrates unusually hard on a task he’s been doing for decades, which muscle memory would carry him through.
Five months ago, Naeem rented a space of 120 or so square feet in Lucknow’s busy Nakhas Chauraha to relocate his bookstore, Danish Mahal, from Aminabad. In Nakhas Chauraha, the crowds, traffic and noise overwhelm the senses, and his bookstore stands face to face with plastic buckets and synthetic suits. Aminabad was a gathering place for Urdu lovers from all over the city and the air was once filled with spices and chikankari embroidery shops.
“I am not able to generate profit, but I want to keep the love of my family alive. The only option was to move here,” says Naeem, adding that the rent here is much lower. Synonymous with Urdu literature and language in Lucknow, Danish Mahal has been a haven for poets, scholars, writers and intellectuals for more than 85 years. The bookstore moved to a new location in December 2025, but has been in business since 1939.
“From the beginning, our bookstore was located in Aminabad. Urdu lovers from all over the city used to gather to buy books and discuss them over cups of tea, but the rising cost of books and declining profit forced us to close,” says Naeem, who studied Urdu literature at Lucknow University.
Urdu is the second official language of Uttar Pradesh, but even from the 2001 to 2011 census, the number of Urdu speakers who chose it as their mother tongue dropped from 12.1 million to 10.9 million. Naeem and his son converse in Hindi themselves.
Built since the 18th century, with the breakup of the Mughal Empire, Lucknow’s Awadh traditions are defined by tehzeeb, which roughly translates to a culture based on art and refinement. “Pehle aap (you first), often parodied in films, is a philosophy of humility embedded in everyday Urdu conversation.
Lucknow now lacks Urdu advertising and public announcements are mostly in Hindi. The paint on several wall paintings with Urdu script is peeling. Lucknow residents say that in post-Babri Masjid Uttar Pradesh, a story is being created about Urdu, which is associated with Muslim conquerors from a distant land.
Also Read:Urdu, which was once the language of the masses, is dying a slow death
Charbagh Railway Station in Lucknow. | Photo Credit: Sandeep Saxena
Urdu will disconnect
“My father, Naseem Ahmed, started a shop and spent more than 70 years serving Urdu lovers. He managed to make ends meet; I hope I can do the same,” Naeem says slowly. He complains that Urdu is now facing challenges and the immediate impact is on bookstores.
“I have been paying ₹18,000 a month as rent, but for the past seven years, I have not been able to. How long will I suffer losses,” he seems to be asking about many things: a dwindling book business, a failing family business and a language that is slowly being eroded. “At least five leading Urdu bookstores have closed down in Lucknow in the last ten years. None of them have been able to make a profit.”
Sensing the volatility of the market, the limited use of Urdu in everyday discourse and a government whose support for the language was dwindling, he advised his son Nabil Ahmed, 25, to choose another business. “My son has an MBA and runs a garment business. I can’t ask him to enter a loss-making business,” says Naeem, whose son has a shop next door. “
About 3 kilometers from Nakhas Chauraha is Dargah Hazrat Abbas, built in the late 19th century. Faiz Baqir runs RB collection, a clothing store where he sells sherwani and salwar suits.
“I have a master’s degree in Urdu from Lucknow University, but there are no jobs for us in the market. The only option is to take the NET (National Eligibility Test) and JRF (Junior Research Fellowship),” he says. These provide entrances to the work of an assistant professor and the acceptance of doctorates at universities. “But even if we pass, there are so many job seekers,” says Baqir.
Before 2010, he adds, there used to be many Urdu translator jobs in several government departments. “It used to be the main attraction, but with modern digital methods, the opportunities have dwindled,” he says, adding that this has disconnected the new generation of job seekers from Urdu.
In Baqir’s shop, Asad Rizvi, in his 40s, sits on a plastic chair. A local and freelance journalist in Lucknow, says the government is neglecting Urdu in many ways. “Urdu newspapers closing across UP I have seen five newspapers closed because the government has stopped advertising in them or just kept advertising to a minimum,” he says, expressing the pain of many locally circulated newspapers dependent on government advertising as big corporations choose national brands for advertising. Rizvi says that it is local newspapers that are living textbooks for people, as they provide both hyper-local news and an opportunity to improve the language.
Rizvi argues how Urdu journalism played a role in India’s struggle for independence. Maulvi Muhammad Baqir, who founded and edited the Delhi Urdu Akhbar in the 1850s, was one of the pioneers of Urdu journalism. “His newspaper reported on events in Delhi in 1857 (during the first war of independence). The British saw it as sympathetic to the rebels. After the British recaptured Delhi, he was arrested,” says Rizvi, the narrator. “On September 16 that year, he was executed by firing squad on the orders of a British officer. We remember him as the first journalist in India to be executed for his journalism,” Rizvi concludes with a flourish.
Education is suffering
Anees Ashfaq, former head of the department of Urdu at Lucknow University, sits in his library at home surrounded by many Urdu books. He says the beauty of Urdu is in its syncretism. Urdu developed in the Gangetic plains during the eras of the Delhi Sultanate and the Mughal Empire, between the 12th and 19th centuries. It is a linguistic amalgamation of local Prakrit-derived dialects such as Khari Boli and Braj Bhasha, incorporating Persian, Arabic and Turkic vocabulary. “Uttar Pradesh played a key role in shaping its grammar, spreading its literature and establishing cultural institutions,” says Ashfaq.
It is built on Indian grammatical foundations and infused with Perso-Arabic vocabulary, he says. Spoken varieties were initially known as Hindvi, Hindustani or Rekhta before evolving into a standardized form of Urdu. Daily exchanges between local communities and administrative courts in northern India cemented its status as the predominant lingua franca.
Lucknow University is experiencing a decline in the number of students enrolled in the Urdu Department. For MA Urdu in the current academic session, 2026-27, there are only 65 students in the course where 120 seats are available. This is a sharp drop from previous decades, when the university had to increase the number of places to meet high demand.
A 20-minute drive from Dargah Hazrat Abbas leads to the Uttar Pradesh Urdu Akademi. Founded in 1972 to promote Urdu, the academy has now decided not to speak – in any language. The secretary did not take calls, respond to messages or respond to email.
There has been no executive committee for almost three years, according to local Hindi media. Residents of Lucknow say that some of the regular activities of the academy like publishing books, running libraries and Urdu coaching are still going on, though not as robustly as they were once done.
Some major initiatives like the annual honoring of Urdu writers, poets and journalists have been put on hold. The lack of staff has also become a big problem. While the Academy previously employed 54 staff, this number has now reduced to just 18. Most of the staff have retired and new recruitment is not taking place.
“The executive committee has the power to recommend staff requirements to the state government,” says Mumtaz Ahmed, Accountant, Urdu Akademi. Until the committee is formed, the recruitment process cannot begin. The appointment of the committee is entrusted to the Department of Care for Minorities.
Naeem of the Danish bookstore Mahal says that the academy, which regularly bought books from the store, had not placed an order for almost a decade.
Booksellers say they used to stock Urdu books by Pakistani writers about a decade ago but stopped buying them, fearing that any contact with people from across the border would bring them trouble.
A structural and elemental problem
Proponents of the Urdu language and residents of Lucknow argue that the crisis of Urdu is structural because the language is not being used as a medium of instruction in mainstream schools. However, it is on the list of first languages of the Central Board of Secondary Education as well as the Uttar Pradesh Board of Education.
“Urdu is often treated as a secondary language due to lack of trained teachers. English is predominant in urban and elite educational institutions, while rural and government schools emphasize Hindi along with English,” says Tariq Qamar, 51, who writes Urdu poetry and participates in literary events across the country.
Urdu is both spoken and taught in Madrasas, but over 7,000 recognized Madrasas in UP have not received funding from the government for over six years. The government also failed to pay honorarium to teachers, some of whom impart Urdu education.
“Those who teach modern subjects also give education about Islamic subjects and Urdu to the students. Many of these madrassas survived for years on these grants/salaries paid to teachers, now without the grant, these teachers are not motivated to provide quality education, which ultimately harms Urdu and other traditional languages like Arabic,” said Shahid Ali, a teacher who teaches social studies along with Urdu and Arabic.
On 5 August 2026, Deputy CM Keshav Prasad Maurya of Uttar Pradesh linked madrassas with terrorism. Rizvi links the Urdu crisis to the marginalization of Muslims based on identity: “Unfortunately, Urdu is associated with the religious and ethnic identity of Muslims, which has led to its marginalization in India.” He adds that as English becomes more prevalent, Urdu literature and the cultural experiences associated with it, such as mushaira performances, are increasingly losing relevance to the youth.
Urdu enthusiasts say literature and language education must adapt to connect with the youth if Urdu is to retain its relevance. “Without structural government support, young people have little incentive to learn or engage with Urdu,” says Baqir. He feels that the language needs to adapt to include science, technology, environment and social sciences. Otherwise it will just die.