Besides the many loves in my life, one happens to be romancing the Urdu language and it remains one of the never dying passions of my life to learn the language in its written as well as spoken forms. I feel there is no language as rich and lyrical as this one. Urdu germinated and flowered during the times of Muslim rulers in India and is considered to be the child of Hindi and Persian languages. While I love English for its immensity and utility and there are words that feel delicious on my tongue, but it is Urdu that is so exotic, deep and breathtakingly beautiful. Take for example, the word “rosary”, which sounds nice in English but it is the sound and taste of its Urdu connotation “tasbih” that is superb, or compare English “imagination” word with its Urdu parallel “tassavvar”.

When I read Urdu poetry, (sadly I have to do it written in English, with my red Urdu dictionary forever within reach), or listen to gazhals, it is a pure magic on the senses. The words are full of exquisite richness, impeccable pronunciation, and silken velvety feeling that they can almost be touched. In fact, Urdu is one language that falls so beautifully on the ears too, thus, making it a sensual experience. The style “ada” and “tehzeeb” that comes out when one speaks Urdu makes it a language of the connoisseurs and of the people who believe in romance and the old world charm. It feels as if Urdu is a language of the lovers and genteel folks, and it cannot be used for ugly abuses and exchanges!

I raise my toast to the finesse that Urdu is!

There are only few moments in life when we experience total absorption, when no joy is greater than the one consuming at the moment, when time stands still and mind is in raptures. This night brings me alive to the joys long forgotten and a firefly passes by, reminding me of the memories that are buried somewhere in the deep crevices of mind, as how I used to chase them and catch them in my palms. I can still inhale the strange smell that would be left in my palms and now instinctively my palms go up but there is no smell yet I can feel myself drowning in the oceans of memories. Memories, alas that is all we are left with!! Memories of the times, places and people left behind… They comfort me tonight as I hug them close to my heart. With memories nothing is ever lost as they come to haunt in white silences.

It is strange that a night can fill you with such clear hopes, desires and joys, which may be shattered and vanish into thin air with the first prismatic beam of rays that touch you as another day calls. But there is some magic in this night and it allures me as I can make out the trees silhouetted in benign silence, yawning away the spirits that take abode in them. Sometimes I wonder if there is a spirit watching over me, what is that draws me out for the nocturnal walks, even if I can snatch it for few minutes, but which helps me exhale my day. I can never shake off the brooding magic of the dark silent night and many a times these huge immense trees frighten me as they assume gigantic, yet bewitching, proportions in the night, especially when the night is as clear as tonight, and the wind makes them sway in gentle indolence.