In a recent trip to our family home, my mom rediscovered an old postcard addressed to my great-grandfather, Mohammad Ali Mirza. The letter was sent to him on October 17, 1947 in the aftermath of the partition of British India by his Hindu friend Diwan C. Khanna, who had to flee from Lahore to Delhi. It is a really interesting primary source that gives insight into the pain and grief that those who had to leave their lives and homes behind felt at the time. I’ve written a longer article analyzing the letter and what I think it means for Indians and Pakistanis today, which can be read both in the Indian publication The Quintand in the Pakistani publication The Express Tribune.
Below is the full text of the letter, along with scans of the front and back of the original document:
Mirza Mohd. Ali Sb.
My dear Mirzasahib
I arrived here safely this morning. I can’t thank you sufficiently for all you so willingly & gladly did for me. The part which Begum Sahiba played was noble. You have proved what friendship is. I shall ever remain grateful. Please convey my thanks to Begum Sahiba. I am unhappy to be separated from you & other friends. I would like to die in Pakistan than to live in India shall it be possible. My wife & children have been happy to receive me. They were worrying a lot. I had a troublesome journey & that too by stages. Anyhow I reached here with some luggage, arms and one bedding. The rest of the things are at Amritsar which I shall manage to get soon.
With sincere thanks yours sly [sincerely]
Diwan C. Khanna
In no particular order, here is my list of the top five versions of the qawwali “Tajdar-e-Haram”. You can find my full translation of the poetry here. The original by the Sabri Brothers is obviously very hard to match, but I think others have also done justice to it. Post any more versions of “Tajdar-e-Haram” that you enjoy in the comments!
1. The Timeless Original by the Sabri Brothers
Highlights: The original is always the original, and here the Sabri Brothers are at their best. The two brothers’ voices are very distinct and complementary. They show their musical mastery in this qawwali by repeatedly varying the pace and volume, taking listeners on a journey.
2. The Second Generation by Amjad Sabri & Shahi Hasan
Highlights: Amjad Sabri ventures out of traditional qawwali in this soulful collaboration with Shahi Hasan. It’s an amazing composition in its own right, with lots of overlapping vocal tracks, and the female background vocals at the beginning are really mesmerizing.
3. The Coke Studio Rendition by Atif Aslam (2015)
Highlights: Atif’s Coke Studio version is also not traditional qawwali, but it includes a wider array of instruments that enhance the song. At times, the emotion in his unique voice really comes through.
4. The Indian Masters’ Version by Sonu Nigam & Sukhwinder Singh (1992)
Highlights: This is a really cool (and rare) rendition by two of Bollywood’s most famous singers, Sonu Nigam and Sukhwinder Singh. While not focusing on the raw and spontaneous nature of traditional qawwali, this version lets their amazing, highly-trained voices shine.
5. The Thunderous Tribute by Fareed Ayaz & Abu Muhammad (2016)
Highlights: Fareed Ayaz & Abu Muhammad paid tribute to the Sabri Brothers and Amjad Sabri through a more traditional performance. This version is loud and powerful, with excellent percussion (check out the vocals at 0:49 and the change in beat at 17:58).
Urdu is an Indo-European language from the central zone of the Indo-Aryan branch, with over one hundred million speakers worldwide. Once associated with the Mughal Empire, it is most prominent in Pakistan, northern India, and South Asian diaspora communities.
Due to its mutual intelligibility with Hindi, Urdu and Hindi are often referred to jointly by the term Hindustani (literally: “from the land of the Indus”). Considering Hindustani as a single unit, it is the third or fourth most spoken language in the world, depending on which source you look at.
People often ask what the differences between Hindi and Urdu are, and I would say that there are essentially two. First, the writing system: Hindi employs the Devanagari script, which is a descendant of older Indian scripts, whereas Urdu uses a version of the Perso-Arabic script, which came into use for several South Asian languages after Muslims entered the subcontinent. Second, while the grammar and syntax for both is alike, higher-level vocabulary in Hindi is derived from Sanskrit while in Urdu it is often derived from Persian and Arabic. In regular conversation, though, Hindi and Urdu speakers can communicate with each other perfectly well. Due to the partition of the subcontinent in 1947, the differences between the two have been artificially magnified in Pakistan, where Urdu has national status, and India, where Hindi has national status, in quite a politicized manner.
Anyways, Urdu is known for its great canon of literature and poetry; figures such as Meer, Ghalib, and Iqbal have truly inspired millions. It makes sense that Urdu is a poetic language when one looks at the rich sources it draws from – it is built on a foundation of Sanskrit and Hindi, and ornamented with vocabulary from Persian, Arabic, and even Turkish.
Interestingly enough, the word Urdu is even synonymous with poetry in some cases. For example, take a look at the super-hit Bollywood song “Chaiyya Chaiyya” from the 1999 movie Dil Se. Skip to 1:28 and you’ll hear the line “Woh yaar hai jo khushboo ki tarah, jiski zubaan Urdu ki tarah”. This would translate to “My beloved is like a sweet aroma, whose words sound like Urdu”.
In this post I will highlight some of the interesting features of Urdu. (Of course, many of these apply to Hindi as well)
1) In Urdu, a noticeable number of words rhyme with their antonyms. Here are a few examples:
2) This is probably my favorite characteristic of the Urdu language. Many verbs are part of families (usually 3-4 verbs) that use a root verb to derive causative versions of it. Take a look at the examples below to see what I mean. The infinitive form of every Urdu verb end with the suffix “-na” (نا-), just as every English infinitive begins with “to”.
Banna (to become) بننا – Banaana (to make) بنانا – Banvaana (to have someone make, as in, to cause to be made) بنوانا
Seekhna (to learn) سیکھنا – Sikhaana (to teach) سکھانا – Sikhvaana (to cause to be taught) سکھوانا
Karna (to do) کرنا – Karaana (to have done) کرانا – Karvaana (to cause to have done) کروانا
Milna (to meet) ملنا – Milaana (to introduce/connect) ملانا – Milvaana (to cause to introduce) ملوانا
Khulna (to become open) کھلنا – Kholna (to open) کھولنا – Khulvaana (to cause to open) کھلوانا
It is a little confusing if you’re not used to it, so here is an example of how these multiple forms could be used:
.یہ دروازہ خود کھلتا ہے
Yeh darwaaza khud khulta hai (This door opens by itself).
.تم نے اس دروازے کو کھولنا ہے
Tum ne is darwaaze ko kholna hai (You need to open this door).
.اس دروازے کو کسی سے کھلوانا ہے
Is darwaaze ko kisi se khulvaana hai (Someone must be brought to make this door open).
3) Urdu also has the interesting feature of having rhyming series of certain pronouns and adverbs.
Is ka (his/hers, owner present) اس کا – Us ka (his/hers, owner absent) اس کا – Jis ka (whosever) جس کا – Kis ka (whose?) کس کا
Ab (now) اب – Tab (then) تب – Jab (whenever) جب – Kab (when?) کب
As you can see, there is a pattern, such that the first one always has to do with something removed from the present situation, the second has to do with something related to the present situation, the third is used for general statements applicable to any situation, and the fourth is an interrogative word for an uncertain situation.
4) Like many languages, Urdu has a rich vocabulary, but there is a focus on poetic and romantic words. There exist multiple words for things that have only one word in other languages like English. The reason for this is that some words have South Asian etymologies, while others have Central or Western Asian origins.