“THE disappearance of readers of Urdu literature is not news anymore”, writes Ather Farouqui, a scholar and secretary of Anjuman Taraqqi-i-Urdu Hind (ATUH), Delhi. Now Urdu’s literary gatherings do not attract people despite the invitation to a “guaranteed good meal”, adds Farouqui in his ironic style.

Recently Farouqui has begun writing a column in daily Inqelab, an Urdu newspaper published simultaneously from several Indian cities. Titled M’akoos Zaviye, or inverse angles, the column discusses political, cultural and literary scene in India. The pieces that Farouqui writes are sometimes spiced with witty remarks and point out certain aspects of Indian society quite candidly. His piece published in July 6, 2024 issue of Inqelab, Delhi, has raised the question of the falling readership of Urdu literature, aside from another burning issue in India: the religious belief of the majority and how it has shaped the Indian politics during the last 20 years or so. But I will keep this piece confined to literary issue that Farouqui has raised: he thinks that those who know Urdu script and have a taste for literature are in quite large numbers in India but Urdu books and magazines are losing the readers fast and the reason is the stuff which literature buffs want to read is not being published anymore.

Why any reader would be interested in the type of Urdu books that are being published today in India and why would audience attend conferences on bizarre topics. Why common readers would read Urdu books written in the name of criticism but actually aimed at landing a job or getting promoted at a university. Why anyone would read the dissertation published under the title, for example, Ghulghul Phaphundvi: Life and Works, asks Farouqui.

This writer had shared in these columns (Dawn, April 15, 2024) the gist of a write up published in The Indian Express reporting the closure of bookshops selling Urdu books in Delhi’s Urdu bazaar. It reported that the number of bookshops selling Urdu books in Delhi’s Urdu bazaar had fallen from 80 to six. The apparent reason was the vanishing readers of Urdu books. It was indeed disappointing, but even more surprising and painful was the closure of Maktaba-i-Jamia, a century-old publisher and bookseller and a part and parcel of Jamia Millia Islamia (JMI), a university established in 1920. Maktaba was reopened when some Urduwallas vociferously protested. In addition to its Urdu books, Maktaba-i-Jamia was also known for its Urdu magazines, Kitab Numa, a literary Urdu monthly, and Payam-i-Taleem, an Urdu magazine for kids. Both of these magazines, about half a century old, have not been able to bring forth any issue in the recent past.

When this writer contacted Ather Farouqui to discuss the issue, he informed that Maktaba-i-Jamia had been reopened, but these days it is virtually dysfunctional. The reason is those entrusted with running the bookshop and/or publishing are least interested in it, as reading or writing books is something totally different from publishing and selling them. Shahid Ali Khan, who passed away a few years ago, gave his life to Maktaba-i-Jamia, but once he developed some differences with the then vice chancellor of JMI and left Maktaba, the decline has been unabated. Also, the vice chancellor of the JMI may take some action, but hardly any VC survives for long enough, adds Farouqui.

Discussing with this writer the problems faced by Urdu publishing in India, Farouqui says, aside from the substandard or lifeless literary works, as mentioned above, one of the reasons for slackness is publishers’ reluctance to adopt new marketing techniques. Urdu books published by the ATUH, says he, are available on Amazon and are sold regularly, albeit not in big numbers. But most publishers of Urdu books, according to Farouqui, are not willing to sell online for various reasons.

Now let us see what is going on in Pakistan: the news about readership of Urdu literature in Pakistan, too, is not much encouraging. A general slump in sale of books due to sky-rocketing book prices is reported by several booksellers. But the real problem for writers of Urdu in Pakistan today is that most of the books, especially poetry collections, are self-published. Some of them may bear the name of some prestigious publishers, but they are in fact self-published as author is forced to foot the bill. Even some literary organisations known for their long history and authentic publications now require scholars to finance their dissertations if they want to see it in print and bear the seal of an old and well-known organisation. So if you are ready to depart with your hard earned money, say, Rs 100,000, your so-called dissertation on Ghulghul Phaphundvi would be published, though no one would buy it, not even on Amazon, rest assured.

Published in Dawn, July 16th, 2024

drraufparelch@yahoo.com

Published in Dawn, July 15th, 2024