The interesting part was that in the front of the processions were bullock carts in keeping with the tradition , unlike some other processions where they use mechanized vehicles. This makes our streets so lively, of course mostly we have bad traffic jams and things are bad. But these old traditions lend much colour to the otherwise drab lives of common people. In the West they have given up these traditions long ago, the streets are too sanitized, too orderly.

A Sandal Procession (Sandal Sharif) is a Sufi Islamic ritual where devotees carry fragrant sandalwood (Sandal/Chandan) paste in plates, often with incense, to anoint the tombs (dargahs) or walls of mosques belonging to Muslim saints during Urs (death anniversary) celebrations. It is a display of devotion, purity, and unity, sometimes integrated with local traditions, there is Hindu Muslim unity, the Mahim police station takes the lead in the organization.

Some people may scoff at the idea animals on the streets which they think should be reserved for their cars, forgetting that motor cars are big polluters and impose such heavy social costs.

With all the faults, traditionally Indians have a good relationship with domestic animals, on some days the bullocks are worshipped decorated, not burdened on the day of Pola in Maharashtra and there are similar days in other states.

Westerners with all their sophistication in certain matters had had a pretty unfriendly, even hostile relationship with animals like in bull fighting which involve so much violence and though horse racing appeals to so many people, it involves much cruelty to the animal which we never get to see.

As coincidence would have it I saw a fairly interesting film at Alliance Francaise earlier this week which showed a woman, the protagonist, who realizes the need to treat the bulls kindly in bull sports.

In the film Animal, the first local woman to enter the ring with the young men who tempt, chase and are chased by local bulls starts to see things from the bulls’ perspective as bulls go “rogue” and started goring and stamping the locals in the dark of night, long after the audience — mostly tourists — for some events has left.

The Camargue style of bullfighting is non-fatal, a lot less bloody and far and away a more humane and “even” contest and is thus referred to as “bull racing” by the locals, who enter the ring — basically unarmed and on foot — and try to snatch cash-prize tokens attached to the bull’s scalp.
But as experts point every year, approximately 180,000 bulls are killed in bullfights around the world, with many more killed or injured in bull fiesta events. Bullfighting is already banned by law in many countries including Argentina, Canada, Colombia, Cuba, Denmark, Italy and the United Kingdom.
Although legal in Spain, some Spanish cities, have outlawed the practice of bull fighting.

(From Vidyadhar Date’s page on Facebook)

Mahim Durgah, a Sufi Saint and a Mumbai police ritual

A colonial practice, this ritual of Mumbai’s top police officers walking to durgahs with an offering every year has continued –despite the serious fissures between the police administration and Mumbai’s (then Bombay’s Muslim minority) during the post-Babri Masjid demolitions in December 1992 and January 1993. Sections of an otherwise acclaimed police force were accused, and found by the Justice BN Srikrishna Commission of being guilty of deep anti-minority biases. The practice of officers offering the ceremonial chadar has continued and this year. Each year, as Urs begins at Mahim Dargah, in December, a scene plays out on the streets of Mumbai with a police band at the front, uniformed officers behind and senior police officers carrying a green chadar as they walk towards the 600-year-old shrine of Hazrat Makhdoom Ali Mahimi.

After Independence, while most government departments quietly shed the ceremonial and religious practices they had inherited from the British era a few exceptions endured, particularly at dargahs such as Mahim, and Dongri’s Rehman Shah Ba.

What is the legacy of the Mahim Dargah?

The Indian Express reports that the Mahim Dargah of Hazrat Makhdoom Ali Mahimi is one of Mumbai’s oldest and most historically revered Islamic shrines, with a lineage going back over 600 years. Long before Mumbai grew into a metropolis, this coastal dargah functioned as a spiritual anchor for sailors, traders, scholars and communities along the western coast. The saint himself was of Arab descent; his ancestors are believed to have arrived in India around AD 860 (AH 252) after fleeing the persecution of Hajjaj ibn Yusuf, the much-feared governor of Basra. Born roughly five centuries later in India, Makhdoom Ali Mahimi received rigorous training in Islamic law and theology and was eventually appointed the faqih, or law officer, for the Muslim community of Mahim. He passed away in 1431, and soon after his death, the local community built a mosque and shrine in his honour. Over the centuries, that shrine evolved into one of Mumbai’s most significant pilgrimage centres.

Related:

Preamble to be read at Mahim Dargah in Mumbai

A Mahim Dargah revered by Mumbai Police

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Courtesy: The AIDEM

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Since then, a debate has emerged in the public domain. Our self-styled “left liberal” intelligentsia, otherwise loud in denouncing Hindu majoritarianism, suddenly turned mute when confronted with Muslim right-wing pressure. If a program had been canceled under Hindu Right pressure, the outcry would have been deafening. Op-eds, reportage, and fiery essays warning of fascism’s arrival would have saturated every public platform. But when Muslim clerics strong-arm a cultural body into silencing a poet, silence reigns. Many intellectuals believe that calling out Muslim bigotry amounts to Islamophobia and would endanger an already threatened community. This view is simplistic and cowardly. If the true enemy is oppression, it must be opposed wherever it arises, across communities and within them. What the oppressed deserve is critical solidarity, a support that is constructive, accompanied by food for thought.

The Jamiat’s letter to the Academy, dated August 25, begins with praise but quickly hardens. It “forcefully” appeals that Akhtar not be invited, demanding a “man of integrity” take his place, “of any religion, but not a blasphemer of God.” It threatens “democratic means” if ignored, invoking the precedent of Taslima Nasreen who was hounded out of Kolkata. It expresses confidence the Academy will comply, which it did. The letter denounces Akhtar as a “blasphemer,” unfit for a literary stage.

What is striking is not just the intolerance of the demand, but the attempt to normalize religious authority in public life, where writers and poets must either submit to clerical approval or face ostracism. Mufti Shamail Nadvi, a leading voice of the protest, said he was “shocked” Akhtar was invited. But what is shocking about inviting Javed Akhtar to preside over a mushaira? He is first and foremost a poet, heir to four generations of Urdu literary contribution, the author of lyrics that define the golden era of Hindi cinema, and an uncontested literary figure. Nadvi’s “shock” reveals not moral concern but clerical disdain for a man who openly opposes them. Whom did he want instead? Someone with no claim to poetry but unquestioned theological orthodoxy?

Nadvi later claimed he did not demand cancellation, only that “true Muslims” boycott the event. But a boycott called by clerics is never benign. It lays the groundwork for ostracism and, in volatile contexts, mob violence. Imagine if a Hindu leader called for boycotting an event because the guest was Muslim. It would spark outrage. Yet when Muslim clerics do the same, many Muslims and their media representatives applaud it as a victory. This sets a dangerous precedent: must every intellectual first pass a theological litmus test before entering the muslim public sphere( public space where muslims form a sizable chunk ) ?

Nadvi also proposed a debate with Akhtar on the existence of God, accusing him of defaming religion and promoting atheism. But here the clerics stumble on their own contradictions. The Qur’an itself instructs believers not to insult others’ gods precisely because early Muslims did so and provoked offense. Offense is woven into Islam’s very beginnings. Why then is offense suddenly intolerable when directed at Islam? Will Muslims extend the same courtesy of not offending others’ beliefs? Within Islam itself, sects routinely accuse one another of blasphemy. In Pakistan, Nadvi’s counterparts have hurled the same charge at Engineer Mirza, a fellow Muslim preacher. Even Mufti Tariq Masood, from Nadvi’s own sect, has faced accusations of blasphemy. To brand someone a blasphemer is a political weapon, a tool to reclaim fading authority rather than a defense of truth.

If religion trembles before a single poet, then it is the clerics who insult the faith, not Akhtar. Nadvi insists Akhtar is famous for mocking Islam, when in fact his reputation rests on films, lyrics, and poetry. His atheistic remarks, when they appear, are marginal and occasional. Reducing his legacy to blasphemy is either ignorance or deliberate misrepresentation to score points. Worse, Nadvi’s rhetoric paints a target on Akhtar’s back. By invoking the precedent of Taslima Nasreen and repeating that Akhtar’s presence is an insult, he encourages hostility in an environment where blasphemy accusations can easily invite death  . Calling for a “debate” in such circumstances is a provocation for hardliners to do the job.

Akhtar was invited to preside over a mushaira, not to preach atheism. To object to his private unbelief is irrelevant. Does Nadvi mean to say a godless person has nothing valuable to contribute to literature, culture, or cinema? By that logic Muslims should shun modern intellectual life, where atheism and agnosticism are common, and confine themselves to insular ghettos of their own making. Such isolationism is disastrous. It strangles Muslims’ cultural life and reduces them to a community fearful of thought itself.

For so many years, he has attended thousands of mushairas and public programmes and no Muslim was ever offended by his supposed blasphemy. But suddenly when Nadwi comes out and declares that we should be offended and are offended everyone seems to fall in line. This politics of being offended must stop somewhere.

Meanwhile, Nadvi’s own 26-minute press conference did not cite a single Qur’anic verse or Hadith. It was a pure rant, a bid for relevance. His YouTube channel, once stagnant with 26,000 subscribers, surged to 32,000 after this controversy, with his video on Akhtar becoming the most viewed. The episode is less about defending faith and more about clerics chasing attention.

The Prophet of Islam urged believers to “seek knowledge even if it takes you to China,” meaning even from non-believers. Clerics like Nadvi are unable to come out of their archaic mindset of being offended. They demand isolation, echoing the Hindu Right’s charge that Muslims cannot coexist with others.

The cancellation of Javed Akhtar’s invitation may seem small, but it reflects a deeper malaise: the religionization of Muslim identity, where culture, literature, and art must bow to clerical approval. If unchecked, this mindset will strangle public life, silence intellectuals, and confine Muslims to an ever-shrinking ghetto of thought. The tragedy is not Akhtar’s disinvitation but that in 2025, clerics still dictate what ordinary Muslims are allowed to do, and ordinary Muslims can still be mobilized at the clerics’ whim.

(Osama Rawal is a political science graduate from Elphinstone College, Mumbai. He writes on identity, justice, and global affairs. Passionate about reading, travel, and critical thought. He tweets under @OsamaARRawal)

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Mubarakpur’s weaving tradition dates back to the 14th century, appearing in Ibn Battuta’s travel diaries, where he marvelled at the fabrics of the region. During Sultan Muhammad bin Tughlaq’s reign, records mention some 4,000 weavers in the town. Known for weaving pure silk sarees with zari work, the artisans developed looms that still rival mechanised versions in quality and finish.

For decades, however, weavers have suffered from under-representation, exploited by middlemen who blurred the distinction between Banarasi and Mubarakpuri products. Many were forced to accept inferior raw materials and unfair loans, producing fabrics that demanded long hours yet yielded little return. Religious riots drove away workers, while erratic state policies—such as scrapping fixed electricity tariffs and replacing them with metered bills—pushed fragile households out of the loom sheds. The “One District One Product” scheme failed to meaningfully uplift Mubarakpuri sarees, while GI tagging and transport connectivity with Varanasi and Gorakhpur—essential trade hubs—remain inadequate. Even a completed shop market complex in Alinagar, built under the Samajwadi Party, stands locked and unused.

Despite intermittent political support, weavers have largely been left to innovate and survive. Some modified looms with motors to mimic power looms. Others migrated to cities like Hyderabad. For those who stayed, dignity came slowly through organisations such as the All India Artisans and Craftworkers Welfare Association (AIACA). Beginning in 2014, “Mubarakpur Weaves” revived skills, trained artisans in business and design, and secured Craftmark certification for authenticity. Wages rose, ownership and profit-sharing returned dignity, and the brand gained visibility. The effort proved that even a marginalised cluster could reimagine itself with collective organisation, certification, and a distinct identity.

Yet these hard-won gains now face an external shock. In August 2025, the United States sharply raised tariffs on Indian goods. A prior 25% reciprocal tariff was joined by a new 25% punitive tariff, bringing total duties to 50% on a wide swath of exports, including garments, textiles, carpets, and jewellery. The stated reason—India’s continued purchase of Russian oil—was geopolitical. The effect on artisans was immediate. Sarees, carpets and handicrafts destined for diaspora customers in the US suddenly, became uncompetitive. Exporters reported cancelled or delayed orders.

Rajan Bahl, vice president of the Banarasi Textile Industry Association, stated: “Exports of Banarasi sarees will decline by 15 to 20 per cent due to these tariffs. Handloom products will be the most affected. Though the current losses may appear small, the future impact will be severe. Every year, exports worth Rs 200 to Rs 300 crore were sent to the US, which is now under threat. Orders are being cancelled, and no new orders are coming in. This is not a minor loss; it is a major blow to Banaras and its industry.” Traders in Varanasi staged protests, burning posters of US President Donald Trump and warning of widespread disruption. For the Banarasi and Mubarakpuri clusters, the US market is vital: not the largest in volume, but among the most lucrative, especially for high-end consignments. A 50% tariff makes Indian products far more expensive than those from Bangladesh, Vietnam or Turkey, who now stand to capture price-sensitive segments.

The ripple effects are harsh. In the dispersed handloom economy, even a short spell of cancellations means idle looms, depleted working capital and migration away from craft. International and Indian outlets estimate that thousands of jobs across labour-intensive textile sectors are at risk. For communities already surviving on thin margins, the blow is existential.

To its credit, New Delhi responded with stop-gap relief. The government extended an 11% import duty exemption on raw cotton until the end of 2025, aiming to lower input costs across the textile sector. While Mubarakpuri sarees are primarily silk, blended ranges, linings, and broader supply chains do benefit indirectly. Branding initiatives such as the “Silk Banarasi” trademark, complete with QR-linked authenticity and Silk Mark certification, are also being scaled. Uttar Pradesh to establish showrooms in Varanasi, Lucknow, Ayodhya and Delhi, where digital codes link customers to weaving videos and details of artisans.

Still, tariffs test more than cost structures. They expose a strategic weakness: over-reliance on a single overseas market. For Mubarakpur and other clusters, the way forward lies in diversification. Industry bodies urge exporters to pursue Japan, the UK, Australia, the UAE and Europe, while strengthening domestic retail linked to tourism. Digital direct-to-consumer platforms offer another path, enabling weavers to bypass middlemen and reach diaspora buyers in lower-tariff markets.

Raw material resilience is another critical factor. Assam’s silks—muga, eri, pat—have long inspired designers, adding richness and exclusivity to sarees. Yet Assam’s sericulture has recently suffered from cocoon shortages, administrative instability and logistical disruptions. In 2024–25, yields fell, imports rose, and prices spiked, reducing availability for experimental blends in Mubarakpur and beyond. Without reliable supplies of specialty silks, innovation suffers, and artisans are pushed towards inferior fibres that diminish quality and reputation.

The danger is not only economic but cultural. If tariffs drive buyers towards cheaper mechanised alternatives, the painstaking artistry of handloom risks erosion. Once artisans leave the loom, their skills rarely return. The emotional economy—pride, identity, heritage—is as fragile as the financial one. As one weaver noted, a saree may sell for ₹5,000, but the artisan’s share amounts to only ₹500–600 a day, while intermediaries capture the rest. When shocks like tariffs or raw-material shortages arrive, the imbalance becomes unsustainable.

And yet, resilience persists. Mubarakpur’s weavers continue to innovate. Their sarees remain sought after for bridal wear, ceremonial occasions, and heritage collections. Urban elites and diaspora buyers still pay for authenticity when they can recognise it. The challenge is ensuring that recognition translates into sustained demand in markets beyond the US.

The story of the Mubarakpuri saree today is one of survival amid compounded pressures: historical neglect, domestic policy missteps, raw material shortages, and now punitive tariffs. But it is also a story of possibility—of artisans reclaiming identity through certification, of NGOs building weaver-led enterprises, of governments experimenting with branding and provenance. Whether these interventions can withstand the storm of tariff-driven market loss remains to be seen.

The lesson is clear. Cultural resilience requires economic strategy. The saree may be timeless, but its survival depends on choices made in boardrooms, ministries, and export councils. If India diversifies markets, strengthens branding, secures raw materials, and provides genuine support to its artisans, the Mubarakpuri saree can navigate the tariff era and emerge stronger. If not, one of India’s most ancient weaving clusters risks becoming another casualty of global trade politics.

In the end, tariffs are more than percentages; they are reminders of fragility in heritage economies. For Mubarakpur, the challenge is not only to endure the present shock but to convert it into an opportunity—preserving a craft that is both identity and livelihood, and ensuring it thrives for generations to come.

(The author is a writer in English and Urdu, with a focus on literature, politics, and religion.)

Related:

Urgent need to revive and sustain Banarasi weaving industry

Purvanchal: Silence of the Looms

Curtain raiser: The Warp and Weft of Despair in Purvanchal

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Brahmdev Maharaj temple, was also where the Muslim caretaker w lived alone after separating from his family. For more than 35 years, Mohammad has quietly tended to the temple, a place he also called his home. On most days, he has fed animals, cleaned the temple grounds, assisted during aarti, and found quiet moments to pray, yes offer namaz.

However, something he has done for years, the namaz, discreetly offered near a tree on the premises, became a matter of public controversy when someone filmed it — reportedly around two months ago — and uploaded the video online on June 28.Within hours, Ali found himself behind bars for “defiling a place of worship with intent to insult religion”. This act is symptomatic of the street vigilantism encouraged by the ruling Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) be it in Uttar Pradesh where the incident happened, Haryana, Rajasthan, Madhya Pradesh, Gujarat or Maharashtra. Local police also immediately tend to bend to the will of these mobs on the prowl, influenced by the fact that they enjoy political patronage.

In this case, Ali Mohammad had reportedly earlier apologised to some local villagers when questioned about the prayer, and the matter had initially subsided until the clip resurfaced. Paramanand Das told TOI he was taken aback by the arrest of the man who had served the temple faithfully since the days of his late mentor, Radheshyam, in 2002 and promised to personally arrange help for Ali’s bail if his family were unable to do so. “What happened to Ali Mohammad was wrong and unexpected,” Das said, adding that the village panchayat would “punish” the individual responsible for circulating the video. “The unidentified man who slyly shot and posted the video has committed a greater offence than Ali. If the police take our statement, we will support Ali. Humanity is above religion,” he added. However, Das also said, “Whatever he did here was wrong. “Das added that the temple is a place of devotion for people from all faiths. “On Diwali, people of different religions come to offer prayers at the feet of Brahmdev Maharaj. Ali respected every religion, committed no crime, and never harboured any religious hatred. He worked with dignity and respect, maintaining the temple’s sanctity.”Dataganj circle officer K K Tiwari said, “An FIR has been registered against Ali. He has been arrested. Investigation has so far revealed that Ali was living for decades near the Brahmdev Maharaj temple complex. Someone recorded a video of him offering a prayer supposedly near a tree inside the premises and shared it online. Police force was deployed at the temple premises as soon as we received information in this regard.” Ali himself, in a video released by police, seemed utterly bewildered by the stringent charges slapped on him. He said, “The temple is my sanctuary, the place I found peace. I left my family to serve here. I received meals three times a day from the temple, sometimes even clothes. I did not commit any crime – I would not even think of defiling a place that is home for me.”

Related:

Mumbai Walks for Peace | Citizens Unite Against Hate

Pahalgam Attack: Kashmir unites in heroic resilience amid terror attack, proving humanity’s strength against hate narrative

Faith Knows No Religion: Banke Bihari Temple again rejects boycott call against Muslim artisans and businesses

The post ‘What happened to Ali Mohammad was wrong’: UP temple’s Muslim caretaker held for offering namaz; Hindu priest to arrange bail, says he served with dignity for 35 years reports TOI appeared first on SabrangIndia.

In the immediate aftermath, a chilling new aspect emerged: terrorists reportedly demanded the religion of their victims before pointedly unleashing their violence against only those from the Hindu majority. This deeply disturbing report, amplified across social media, quickly fuelled a divisive narrative and a wave of online trolling against Kashmir and its Muslim residents.

Amidst the chaos, when death stared everyone in the face, the first heroic story that emerged was that of Syed Adil Hussain Shah, a brave local pony handler, unarmed and unprotected, who displayed a level of courage and humanity that stands unmatched. Adil Shah did not flee. He did not hide. Instead, he stepped forward to confront the attackers, questioned them for their inhumanity, and tried to shield two terrified tourists from Pune — Kaustubh Ganbote and Santosh Jagdale. In doing so, he was shot four times — twice in the chest, once in the abdomen, and another bullet tore through him elsewhere. He succumbed tohis injuries on the spot, his blood soaking the very earth he had guided thousands across, every day, with quiet pride and dignity.

Besides Adil who sacrificed his life, far removed from the sensationalised claims and buzzing news cycles that amplified the hate narrative, on ground, multiple accounts of unbridled solidarity and assistance towards the victim survivors unfolded. While the hysterical reporting on a vast majority of electronic media channels chose to ignore these accounts, these accounts of reassuring humanity, painted a starkly different picture. Despite the vitriol aimed at Kashmir and its people, the valley affirmed its unwavering commitment to peace, love, and harmony, showcasing the very essence of the hospitality for which it has long been celebrated.

When a native Kashmiri guy Sajad saves a young boy from a volley of gunfire in Pahalgam

A native Kashmiri, Sajad Bhat, emerged as a true beacon of courage amidst the chaos, bravely saving a young boy from the gunshots and gunfire in Pahalgam’s Baisaran area. This local hero instinctively carried an injured tourist down to safety on his back after the attack.

जब गोलियों की आवाज़ से पहलगाम थर्रा उठा, तब एक कश्मीरी युवक ने घायल की मदद कर दिखाया कि मानवता ज़िंदा है।#Pahalgam #kashmirattack pic.twitter.com/PI2bSuLTG6

— Lallanpost (@Lallanpost) April 23, 2025

A scene of selfless rescue

Sajad Bhat, who unhesitatingly risked his own life, later recounted the harrowing experience and the immediate, collective response from the local community. Describing the frantic efforts to save lives, he explained: “Baisaran Valley is a very large valley. When we saw the injured there, our first priority was how to safely get them to the hospital and help them. Many horsemen also carried them on horseback to the hospital,” he explained, painting a picture of a spontaneous, collective effort.

#Watch: Meet #SajadBhat, a local who carried an injured tourist down to safety on his back after the #Pahalgam attack pic.twitter.com/VcT1fUAbdS

— Greater Kashmir (@GreaterKashmir) April 24, 2025

Saw a child who was pleading, ‘uncle, uncle! save me, save me!’: Bhat

He further detailed his own harrowing rescue of a child. He said that “Besides me, there were many others who carried them on their shoulders to get them to the hospital. I also saw a child who was calling out, ‘Uncle, Uncle!’ He was pleading, ‘Save me, save me!’ I directly put my life at risk, lifted him onto my shoulders, and took him straight to the hospital. On the way, I reassured him constantly, telling him not to be afraid, that nothing would happen to him here. I gave him water on the way and took him directly to the hospital.”

Sajad Bhat firmly stated that it’s the inherent responsibility of locals to aid the injured. When speaking about the injured civilians, he clarified, “I wasn’t there when the initial incident happened. We reached there later for the rescue. It’s our duty, the duty of the locals here, to go there and help the injured.”

A plea for humanity and peace: ‘we stand with you, don’t be afraid; please come to Kashmir

Recalling the horrific scene, Bhat described, “It was a terrifying sight. We too were scared in our places, wondering what was happening. No one was visible; some tourists and some horsemen were wandering around, trying to save people.”

He didn’t shy away from emphasising the profound gravity of the situation, stating with deep emotion, “Our intention is that humanity has been murdered; the entire Kashmiri people have been murdered. This should not happen; this should never happen.”

In a heartfelt plea, Bhat earnestly requested, “We just request that you don’t be afraid. Please come; you are our guests; you are our brothers. We stand with you. Don’t be afraid; please come to Kashmir.”

#Pahalgamattack: #SajadBhat, #Kashmiri hawker whose video of helping victims went viral pic.twitter.com/fF1aNrLm1E

— The Tribune (@thetribunechd) May 2, 2025

When a Hindu man rescued Maulvi and Madrassa student in Poonch amidst bombing

In the aftermath of the cross-border shelling in Poonch, a remarkable story of interfaith unity and bravery emerged. Former BJP MLA Pardeep Sharma, 51, was hailed as a hero for transcending religious and political lines to rescue those affected.

As reported by India Today (IT), when mortar shells struck Jamia Zia Ul Uloom, a local madrassa housing over 1,200 students and operated by his childhood friend Sayyed Habib, Sharma immediately rushed to the scene.

A Hindu Man, a Madrasa, and a Lesson in Brotherhood from Poonch

Here’s a special conversation with the madarsa head Syed Habib and his friend Pradeep Sharma who saved Madarsa students#NewsToday #Poonch #Unity (@sardesairajdeep, @kamaljitsandhu) pic.twitter.com/HiHpO4tVk6

— IndiaToday (@IndiaToday) May 15, 2025

Friendship forged in crisis

Sharma’s actions were driven by a decades-old friendship with Sayyed Habib, forged when they first met in Class 9 at Poonch Government School. Despite their divergent paths into religious leadership and politics, their bond remained strong.

IT reported that this enduring friendship brought them together again as shells rained down on several buildings across town. Viral videos captured Sharma carrying wounded children to safety, earning him the title of “guardian angel” among Poonch residents. The attack tragically claimed the life of a maulvi and injured three children.

Recalling the harrowing moments, Sharma stated, “The maulvi died in my arms. I tried to help by placing a cloth on his cheek, but he couldn’t be saved.” He added, “Then I rushed to save three children. The hospital was full, so I held on to them until a stretcher became available.” When urged to save himself, Sharma’s response was resolute: “I told them the shells weren’t meant for me. At least not today” as reported

With me were Hindus, Muslims, and Sikhs—all working together to help: Sharma

Sharma profoundly underscored the collective spirit that permeated the scene, noting that “With me were Hindus, Muslims, and Sikhs—all working together to help. In that moment, nothing else mattered but saving those kids.” Sayyed Habib echoed this sentiment, confirming, “I didn’t think twice. I called Pardeep bhai. I knew he’d come—and he did.” While Sharma tended to the injured, Sayyed oversaw the safety of over a thousand children.

If anyone sees religion during tragedy, there is no person worse than him: Sharma

Sharma emphasised the collective spirit at the scene, highlighting that “If anyone sees religion during tragedy, there is no person worse than him. When shells are falling and bullets are being fired and people are getting killed and injured and you talk of Hindus, Muslims, Sikhs and Christians, then you don’t have the right to live,” as Indian Express reported

Sharma was actively “on the roads” for four days with his team, assisting in shifting the injured to hospitals. He recounted being woken by his family during the shelling on the intervening night of May 6 and 7: “I could hear the loud explosions. I thought of doing something for the people caught in the crossfire to help them in this distressing situation.” He even used Facebook Live to urge people to stay indoors and remain alert, as Indian Express reported

Hindus, Muslims are helping each other; society must not be divided at any cost after Pahalgam: tourist Puja Jadhav

A tourist identified as Puja Jadhav, when vacationing in Kashmir, has publicly refuted the prevailing negative narratives concerning Muslims and Kashmiris. In a widely shared video, Jadhav stated, “I am here on vacation, and Hindus and Muslims are helping each other.”  She further emphasised the unity she witnessed, urging people not to allow societal divisions, especially in the wake of the recent Pahalgam attack.

The video gained significant traction after being shared by prominent figures, including former BSP MP Kunwar Danish Ali. His sharing of Puja Jadhav’s video further amplified her message, bringing it to a larger audience and challenging divisive rhetoric.

संदेश बहुत साफ़ है !!

हिंदू पर्यटक पूजा जाधव कह रही हैं कि भारतीय मुसलमानों और कश्मीरियों के खिलाफ़ जो बयानबाजी की जा रही है, वह गलत है।

“मैं यहाँ छुट्टी पर हूँ, हिंदू-मुस्लिम एक दूसरे की मदद कर रहे हैं। पहलगाम के बाद समाज को किसी भी कीमत पर विभाजित नहीं किया जाना चाहिए” pic.twitter.com/EJAP9hvmyp

— Kunwar Danish Ali (@KDanishAli) April 23, 2025

Candlelight vigil for terror victims by local Kashmiri residents

On the evening of April 22, the day of the terror attack itself, residents of Kashmir came together to hold a candlelight vigil in memory of the victims of the Pahalgam terror attack. The gathering reflected the community’s deep sorrow and strong condemnation of the cowardly act of violence.

Carrying banners and raising their voices, people demanded justice and an end to terrorism. The vigil highlighted the growing resolve among Kashmiris to stand against violence and support peace in the region. Local residents made it clear that terrorism has no place in their society.

VIDEO | J&K: Locals of Pahalgam hold candle march for terror attack victims demanding justice.

(Full video available on PTI Videos – https://t.co/n147TvrpG7) pic.twitter.com/F19rAK7tFf

— Press Trust of India (@PTI_News) April 22, 2025

The march served as a collective cry for justice, with participants vociferously demanding accountability for the perpetrators of these heinous acts. Banners and slogans echoed a singular message: an end to violence and the restoration of lasting peace in Kashmir. The community’s resolute stand underscores a deep-seated longing for security and a future free from the constant threat of terrorism, sending a clear message to authorities to expedite justice and ensure such tragedies are never repeated.

After about 100 people got into trouble local Adil Bhai supported us: tourist from Pune in Pahalgam

Another tourist from Pune, when in Pahalgam, shared her moving experience, vouching for the deep-rooted Hindu-Muslim unity in the region.

“After about 100 people got into trouble, local Adilbhai supported us, gave shelter, and arranged food for everyone” she recalled with gratitude.

Breaking
Another tourist from Pune in Pahalgam tells her story vouches for Hindu Muslim unity.

“ After about 100 people got into trouble local Adilbhai supported us, gave shelter and arranged food for everyone…”

When Hindus are in trouble, Muslims are rushing to help.… pic.twitter.com/W8IOtw6ccR

— Priyamwada (@PriaINC) April 23, 2025

Adil, a local cab driver, emerged as a beacon of hope in a time of crisis. He welcomed a family from Maharashtra into his own home, offering them not just food and shelter, but a sense of security in a moment of fear and uncertainty. His actions spoke louder than any slogan or headline—acts of kindness that transcended religion and reminded everyone of our shared humanity.

“When Hindus are in trouble, Muslims are rushing to help,” she added, reflecting on the unity she witnessed first hand.

Adil himself humbly said, “One person made a mistake, but the whole of Kashmir will suffer the consequences. We do not support this. This is a murder of entire humanity.”

In a time when tensions threaten to divide, voices like Adil’s—and actions like his—stand as powerful reminders that the spirit of brotherhood is alive and well in Kashmir.

Kashmiri families open hearts & homes to tourist after Pahalgam attack

Similarly, many stories of fear and resilience surfaced—but some, like this one, reveal how moments of terror gave way to powerful human connection.

Rupali Patil, a tourist from Pune, shared how unsettling it was when the news first broke. “I was afraid to even step out of my hotel room,” she admitted. “But amid the chaos and confusion, I and many others found comfort in the homes of Kashmiris who took it upon themselves to protect us. Some even went out of their way to bring back people from our group who were stranded in other areas” as reported Times of India

Public figures have also recognised the overwhelming response of local Kashmiris in aiding victims. TMC MP Sagarika Ghose posted on X (formerly Twitter) and said that “At every stage during and after the Pahalgam terror attack, Kashmiris have rushed to help victims and families. A pony operator died trying to save others, Kashmiri families offered their homes, and many helped tourists flee the spot. The people of Kashmir are an integral part of our large Indian family. Terrorists want to drive us apart and spark anti-Kashmiri fury. We must not aid them in their evil agenda.”

At every stage during and after #PahalgamTerrorAttack Kashmiris have rushed to help victims & families. A pony operator died trying to save others, Kashmiri families offered their homes, Kashmiris helped families flee the spot. The people of Kashmir are an integral part of our… pic.twitter.com/i0xADivTdT

— Sagarika Ghose (@sagarikaghose) April 25, 2025

After the attack: a unified voice from Kashmir

In the aftermath of the tragic terrorist attack in Pahalgam, a powerful and unified voice rose from the heart of Kashmir. It wasn’t just about grief—it was about solidarity, resilience, and a reaffirmation of the values that truly define the region.

“This is what Kashmiris themselves said after the terrorist attack in Pahalgam,” one observer noted. Locals gathered, visibly shaken but united, and their words echoed far beyond the valley.

“Hindu, Muslim, Sikh, Christian are brothers,” they declared with conviction—a reminder that communal harmony is not just a slogan here, but a lived reality, rooted in everyday relationships and shared experiences.

This is what Kashmiris themselves said after the terrorists attack in Pahalgam

They said
” Hindu Muslim Sikh Christians are Brothers ”

” We are Indians , India is ours ” ..
pic.twitter.com/ebEZD1j1OT

— Aryan Singh (@Call_mearyan) April 27, 2025

We are one, we stand united against terrorism: Kashmiris take a stand against terror

In yet another powerful display of unity and courage, local Kashmiri Muslims in Anantnag raised their voices loudly against the Pahalgam terror attack. Taking to the streets, they held a strong and heartfelt protest against terrorism, rejecting violence in all its forms.

ब्रेकिंग न्यूज़ !

अनंतनाग के स्थानीय कश्मीरी मुसलमानों ने पहलगाम हमले के खिलाफ़ उठाई आवाज़ – सड़कों पर उतरे, आतंकवाद के खिलाफ़ किया ज़बरदस्त प्रदर्शन !

यह है असली भारत – जहाँ धर्म नहीं, इंसानियत सबसे बड़ी पहचान है !

संघियों को ये तस्वीरें पसंद नहीं आएंगी,
गोदी मीडिया इसे… pic.twitter.com/BtEYTsSpa1

— Surbhi Maradiya (@SurabhiMaradiya) April 25, 2025

This is the real India—where religion does not divide, and humanity remains the highest identity.

These images may not sit well with certain ideological groups, and mainstream media might choose to ignore them—but the truth on the ground speaks louder than any narrative.

However, despite the divisive narratives that followed, the local Kashmiri community stood firm in its commitment to peace, love, and hospitality. Individuals like Sajad Bhat, who risked his life to save tourists, and interfaith heroes like Pardeep Sharma exemplified the region’s enduring spirit of solidarity, transcending religious and political differences. The stories of local residents offering shelter, care, and support to tourists in distress demonstrated that the true essence of Kashmir lies not in the headlines, but in the human connections that thrive in moments of crisis. As the people of Kashmir continue to unite against terror and hatred, they remind us that humanity and peace must always prevail, regardless of the forces that seek to divide.

Related:

Everyday Harmony: Kashmiri Pandits welcome back Hajis with Na’at recital

Unity over Division: Banke Bihari Temple stands firm against boycott of Muslim artisans

India’s Eid: rose petals & inter-faith unity shared joy paint India’s heart-warming harmony across the country

The post Pahalgam Attack: Kashmir unites in heroic resilience amid terror attack, proving humanity’s strength against hate narrative appeared first on SabrangIndia.

Muslims are integral to temple traditions

Speaking on behalf of the temple administration, Gyanendra Kishore Goswami, a senior priest and committee member, clarified that any call to boycott Muslims was neither practical nor aligned with the spiritual values of Brijmandal, the sacred region encompassing Vrindavan.

“It is not practical. Muslims, particularly artisans and weavers, have deep-rooted contributions here. They’ve played a major role in weaving the dresses of Banke Bihari for decades,” Goswami said. “Many of them have a strong belief in Banke Bihari and visit the temple too” he said, reported Times of India.

For generations, skilled Muslim craftsmen have produced intricate crowns, bangles, and garments for the deity. Their craftsmanship, honed over decades, is vital to the temple’s rituals and daily adornment of the idol. Their devotion, Goswami notes, transcends religious labels.

The response came after some fringe groups held protests in Mathura and Vrindavan, urging Hindu shopkeepers and devotees to boycott Muslim-owned businesses. These groups reportedly demanded that Muslim traders display the proprietor’s name on their shop signboards—an act widely perceived as coercive and discriminatory.

However, Goswami was unequivocal in his stance and said that, “Yes, those terrorists (in Pahalgam) should be punished severely, and we’re totally with the government. But in Vrindavan, Hindus and Muslims live together in peace and harmony” TOI reported.

His message was echoed by several priests and local residents, who expressed solidarity with the Muslim artisans and business owners who have coexisted peacefully in the holy town.

“Bhakti is supreme in Brijmandal”

Goswami, who also serves as the Rajbhog Seva Adhikari at the temple, further emphasised that devotion—bhakti—is the highest principle in the spiritual ethos of Vrindavan.

“Bhakti is supreme in Brijmandal. It rises above knowledge or even detachment (vairagya). If someone has faith and comes for darshan, why should we oppose it?” Goswami asked, reported The Hindu.

Support for Muslim shopkeepers

Just steps away from the temple, Javed Ali, a Muslim shopkeeper who has been selling religious items for over two decades, shared his experience of intimidation by protesters. He was asked to visibly display his name on his shop’s signboard or vacate.

“They came to my shop and asked us to put the name of the proprietor on the signboard. I’ve been running this shop for over 20 years. My father worked here as a tailor. Whenever a customer buys things, I usually give them a bill with my name and mobile number. We have nothing to hide,” Ali said. “With the blessings of Banke Bihari, this place is always peaceful” TOI reports.

His neighbouring shop owner, Nikhil Aggarwal, affirmed that the local community has never had any issues and often supports one another irrespective of faith.

“We’ve never had any problem. We work together and support each other,” Aggarwal noted.

When ‘God’ didn’t stop Raskhan or Rahim from composing bhajans

Lala Pandit, priest at the Danghati Temple in Goverdhan said that, “When God didn’t stop Raskhan or Rahim from composing bhajans, who are we to stop anyone from praying?”

“Lord Krishna is the god of love. There’s no room for hatred in his land” he added

Mahant Dinesh Chaturvedi of the Kali Temple in Mathura echoed the sentiment: “How can anyone prevent a devotee from entering a temple? Temples are public spaces. Every religion has both good and bad people.” Commenting on the impracticality of such boycotts, he added, “You can’t go around asking every shopkeeper about their religion before buying something. Besides, many Muslims have helped tourists in Kashmir. We shouldn’t paint everyone with the same brush” as reported The Hindu.

Govind Pandey, priest of the Dauji Temple in Baldev, also saw no issue with buying from Muslims.

Rejection of discriminatory demands

Earlier, temple priests had also strongly rejected a demand by Dinesh Sharma of the Shri Krishna Janmabhoomi Mukti Sangharsh Nyas to stop using garments crafted by Muslim artisans. Sharma argued that only those who followed “religious purity” should be allowed to make Lord Krishna’s attire.

Terming the demand both “impractical” and “misguided,” Goswami pointed out that about 80% of the temple’s attire—including crowns, garments, and zardozi work—are made by Muslim artisans. He also highlighted the logistical challenge of replacing such skilled labour, noting that the deity requires nearly a dozen ornamented outfits each day.

“How can we assess the personal purity of every artisan?” he asked. “If Prahlad could be born in the family of a demon king, and Kansa in the same lineage as Lord Krishna’s grandfather, then how can we judge artisans by their birth or religion?”

Goswami further emphasised that devotees themselves ensure purity when commissioning attire and offerings, reinforcing that faith, not exclusion, lies at the heart of temple customs.

A legacy of shared heritage

The involvement of Muslims in temple traditions is not new. Historically, Muslim artisans have played a vital role in creating the visual grandeur of the Banke Bihari deity. From intricate embroidery to metalwork, their contributions span generations. In similar traditions elsewhere—like the crafting of Rudraksha garlands in Kashi—Muslim families play key roles in Hindu religious life.

Even today, Goswami noted, Muslim musicians perform traditional instruments like the nafiri during festivals. Several acclaimed bhajan singers from the Muslim community continue to offer devotional service to Lord Krishna, embodying the spiritual unity Vrindavan is known for.

Related:

Vrindavan’s ISKCON temple sealed as priests, and many others test Covid-19 positive 

Allahabad HC bats for tolerance, but refuses to strike down meat and liquor sale ban

Ram Navami violence: PILs seek SC monitored investigations, transfer of cases to NIA

The post Faith Knows No Religion: Banke Bihari Temple again rejects boycott call against Muslim artisans and businesses appeared first on SabrangIndia.

What an example..
Hope the sarkar will issue a strong message now to stop the shameful acts of hate, vengeance and petty retribution.

Himanshi

My name is Lalita Ramdas

I am a Navy daughter and a Navy Wife
My father and my Husband were both Chiefs of the Naval Staff….the first and the thirteenth,!

This is a personal tribute from possibly one of the oldest Navy daughters/wives alive today ….to the newest and youngest among the special fraternity of Naval Wives.

I am so proud of you as I watch the clip of your words to the press, over and over again. Your extraordinary strength, composure and conviction when you speak out against hate and targeting of Muslims and Kashmiris after the horrific killing of so many innocent men in Pahalgam on the 22nd is truly remarkable! And so badly needed in our times
“We only want peace”, you said, and of course rightly, “we want justice too”.

You are the perfect Fauji wife Himanshi, true to the spirit of the service, the constitution and to our secular values.

You are clearly a woman who knows her mind, and there could not have been a more courageous partner of a Navy man like Vinay.

You have echoed the thoughts and feelings of every thinking citizen of this country..
And we should all take your message of love and compassion far and wide.

Thank you Himanshi

I wrote you a letter just two days ago, which I sent c/o the CNS sectt.
Hope you get it.

And since they kindly sent me your address I will be mailing you my letter directly to Karnal..

Lalita
Himanshi Zindabad!
Nari Shakthi Zindabad
Bhartiya Nao Sena Zindabad
Jai Hind – Jai Jagat
.

https://www.threads.com/@zoo_bear_/post/DJG0cA3yCek?xmt=AQGzDVH4yZrWa-Puwqf17C-H8LizxrI69Pl59fY7WIel_g

https://www.facebook.com/share/r/16P9achuRj/

The post Lalita Ramdas hails Himanshi Narwal’s stoic courage in open letter appeared first on SabrangIndia.

But this was not just a case about signage or statutory interpretation. It was about what place Urdu—and by extension, linguistic and cultural minorities—continue to hold in the Indian republic. Authored by Justice Sudhanshu Dhulia, who presided over the bench of the Supreme Court along with Justice K. Vinod Chandran, the judgment blends legal clarity with cultural wisdom, and reads as much like a constitutional essay as a judicial opinion. It situates the question of language within the broader context of Indian history, identity, and fraternity—invoking not only statutory text but the spirit of the Constitution, the debates of the Constituent Assembly, and the lived realities of India’s multilingual people.

What emerges is not just a dismissal of an exclusionary petition, but a powerful defence of linguistic harmony, cultural coexistence, and the right of every Indian language—especially those spoken by minorities—to be seen, heard, and respected.

The judgment begins with a line from Mouloud Benzadi that sets the tone for what follows:

“When you learn a language, you don’t just learn to speak and write a new language. You also learn to be open-minded, liberal, tolerant, kind and considerate towards all mankind.”

Facts of the case

The petition was filed by Mrs Varshatai, a former member of the Municipal Council, who objected to the use of Urdu in any form, including on signage. Her argument was that the Maharashtra Local Authorities (Official Languages) Act, 2022, permitted only Marathi. The Municipal Council had earlier rejected her plea by a majority resolution dated February 14, 2020, noting that the use of Urdu had been longstanding—since 1956—and that a significant portion of the town’s population was Urdu-speaking.

The appellant then moved an application under Section 308 of the Maharashtra Municipal Councils Act, 1965, before the Collector, who allowed it, citing a government circular that mandated 100% use of Marathi in government proceedings. However, this was later set aside by the Divisional Commissioner, leading to a challenge before the Bombay High Court, which dismissed her petition. She then filed a Special Leave Petition (SLP) before the Supreme Court.

During the pendency of the case, the 2022 Act came into force. In an earlier round, the Supreme Court disposed of the SLP, stating that the High Court order may not stand in light of the new law but leaving it open to the aggrieved party to seek appropriate remedy. The matter was then heard afresh by a division bench of the High Court, whose ruling in favour of the Municipal Council was challenged once again—bringing the issue back before the Supreme Court.

The final decision, delivered on April 15, 2025, rejected the challenge and upheld the High Court’s ruling.

The legal position and the Court’s reasoning

The Supreme Court first dealt with a procedural infirmity in how the challenge to the Municipal Council’s resolution was brought about. The appellant had approached the Collector under Section 308 of the Maharashtra Municipal Councils Act, 1965, seeking suspension of the Council’s decision to retain Urdu on its signboard. However, a crucial amendment to Section 308 in 2018 had changed the law: after this amendment, the Collector can no longer act on complaints made by individuals or councillors, even if they were former members. The power to bring a resolution to the Collector’s attention rests solely with the Chief Officer of the Municipal Council.

The Court made this limitation clear:

“After the amendment… the Collector can exercise powers only when the Chief Officer of the Municipal Council brings it to the Collector’s notice… In this case, the application was admittedly not made by the Chief Officer… which should not have been entertained in the first place.” [Para 11]

In other words, the entire chain of proceedings initiated by the petitioner before the Collector was legally untenable from the outset, as she had no standing under the amended law to invoke the Collector’s jurisdiction. This aspect alone could have disposed of the case. However, given the persistence of the challenge and the deeper constitutional concerns it raised, the Court moved to examine the substance of the matter as well.

At the heart of the substantive issue was the interpretation of the Maharashtra Local Authorities (Official Languages) Act, 2022—a law that declares Marathi as the official language for all local government bodies in the state. The petitioner’s argument hinged on a narrow and rigid reading of this Act—that once Marathi was declared the official language, the use of any other language, including Urdu, became impermissible.

The Court decisively rejected this interpretation, emphasising that the Act mandates the use of Marathi for official communication, but does not prohibit the use of additional languages for supplementary or public-facing purposes, such as signboards. It quoted the High Court’s clear reading of the law:

“All that [the Act] does, is to ensure that the business and affairs of the Council, are to be conducted in Marathi language… it does not prohibit use of an additional language… the use of an additional language… would not indicate any violation of the provisions of the Act of 2022.” [Para 14]

The Supreme Court agreed with this view, observing:

“The High Court to our mind rightly concluded that the 2022 Act, on which the appellant placed significant reliance, does not prohibit the use of an additional language, which is Urdu in the present case, on the signboard of the Municipal Council building.” [Para 15]

This distinction—between mandating a language and prohibiting others—is constitutionally important. The 2022 Act ensures that Marathi is used, but does not insist that it be used exclusively. As such, Urdu can co-exist on a signboard without violating the law.

Further, the Court reframed the debate entirely by shifting attention from legality to constitutional purpose. Why use Urdu at all? The Court’s answer was simple but deeply rooted in the values of inclusivity and effective governance:

“The purpose here for the use of Urdu is merely communication. All the municipal council wanted to do was to make an effective communication.” [Para 19]

This clarity of purpose is crucial. The use of Urdu on the signboard was not a political gesture or an assertion of religious identity. It was a functional, inclusive, and locally appropriate decision, intended to reach and welcome a section of the population that reads Urdu. The Court highlighted that this was neither new nor radical—Urdu had been used on the Patur Municipal Council’s signage since 1956.

Finally, in what is arguably the most important paragraph in terms of grounding the decision in the lived realities of governance and citizenship, the Court stated:

“Coming to the present case, it must be stated that a Municipal Council is there to provide services to the local community of the area and cater to their immediate day-to-day needs. If people or a group of people, residing within the area covered by the Municipal Council are familiar with Urdu, then there should not be any objection if Urdu is used in addition to the official language i.e. Marathi, at least on the signboard of the Municipal Council. Language is a medium for exchange of ideas that brings people holding diverse views and beliefs closer and it should not become a cause of their division.” [Para 46]

This is where the Court moved beyond a narrow legal resolution and reminded the petitioner—and the country—that language, at its best, is a bridge, not a barrier. The Municipal Council exists to serve the community—not to assert a singular linguistic identity at the cost of alienating others. If part of the community reads Urdu, there is no reason—legal, moral, or constitutional—to exclude it from a signboard.

By recognising this, the Court reclaimed the space of local governance as one that is responsive to local needs, identities, and realities, not one dictated by abstract notions of linguistic nationalism.

A powerful history lesson

Where this judgment truly shines is in its cultural, historical, and constitutional depth. The Court does not stop at interpreting a statutory provision or addressing procedural irregularities. It goes much further—into the idea of language as identity, as history, and as belonging. In doing so, it delivers a clear and courageous rebuke to the growing communalisation of Urdu and the false binaries that have been constructed around it.

The Court directly confronts the widespread tendency to associate Urdu with Islam, and to treat it as a foreign or sectarian language. It challenges this prejudice head-on by making a series of powerful and clarifying declarations. Perhaps the most quoted and impactful of them is this:

“Let our concepts be clear. Language is not religion. Language does not even represent religion. Language belongs to a community, to a region, to people; and not to a religion.” [Para 17]

This simple but profound line dismantles the politicised narrative that seeks to conflate Urdu with a religious identity. It restores to language its proper meaning—not as a marker of religious belonging, but as a tool of expression, identity, memory, and connection. Language, the Court reminds us, cannot be confined to a single group or cast as exclusive to one faith.

The Court deepens this point by offering a civilisational and cultural defence of Urdu, recognising it as a product of the ganga-jamuni tehzeeb—India’s long-standing tradition of cultural syncretism, particularly in the northern and central plains.

“Language is culture. Language is the yardstick to measure the civilizational march of a community and its people. So is the case of Urdu, which is the finest specimen of ganga-jamuni tahzeeb, or the Hindustani tahzeeb, which is the composite cultural ethos of the plains of northern and central India. But before language became a tool for learning, its earliest and primary purpose will always remain communication.” [Para 18]

By invoking this shared cultural history, the Court reclaims Urdu as Indian, not just linguistically but emotionally and historically. It reminds us that Urdu is not a cultural intruder—it is a civilisational creation, a language born out of coexistence, shared spaces, and mutual exchange. The judgment acknowledges that Urdu’s elegance, refinement, and poetic tradition are the legacies of this syncretic past, which the Constitution was meant to preserve, not erase.

The Court also situates this discussion in constitutional history, tracing how Hindi and Urdu were not seen as oppositional or incompatible during the freedom movement and in the early years of the republic. Instead, they were regarded as two forms of the same evolving language—Hindustani—that could serve as a common national medium. The Court draws on the work of Granville Austin, whose scholarship on the Constituent Assembly debates and post-independence linguistic compromise is widely regarded as authoritative.

Referring to the language debates before and after Partition, the Court notes:

“Partition killed Hindustani and endangered the position of English and the provincial languages in the Constitution.” [Para 34]

This line, taken from Austin, captures the tragic turning point at which a shared language—Hindustani, made up of both Hindi and Urdu—was discarded, and its components polarised. Urdu, in particular, bore the brunt of this rupture. The judgment acknowledges that post-Partition nationalism rejected Urdu not because of linguistic reasons but because of political and communal ones—a move that was neither just nor historically accurate.

The Court quotes Jawaharlal Nehru, who had been a staunch advocate of Hindustani as the people’s language—a bridge between Hindi and Urdu, and a language capable of uniting India’s many regions:

“Hindustani (Hindi or Urdu)… is bound to become the all-India medium of communication, not displacing the great provincial languages, but as a compulsory second language.” [Para 31]

This vision—of Hindustani as an inclusive, flexible, people’s language—was derailed by Partition, but the judgment shows that it remains constitutionally relevant even today. By citing Nehru, the Court not only restores this vision but places its ruling in a long constitutional arc that includes freedom movement ideals, the Constituent Assembly’s balancing act, and post-independence compromises.

The judgment also brings in Mahatma Gandhi, who warned against linguistic purism and the dangers of reducing language to a narrow, communal identity. Gandhi understood language as dynamic and inclusive, and his approach to Hindustani reflected this. The Court quotes him with quiet force:

“To confine oneself exclusively to Hindi or Urdu would be a crime against intelligence and the spirit of patriotism.” [Para 36]

Gandhi’s words underscore that linguistic plurality was never seen as a threat to national unity—it was the foundation of it. In quoting both Nehru and Gandhi, the Court implicitly argues that today’s efforts to banish Urdu from public spaces are not just unconstitutional—they are a betrayal of the nation-building vision of those who fought for India’s independence.

Together, these references and insights make this portion of the judgment a masterclass in cultural constitutionalism. It does not approach the question of language as a dry administrative matter, but as a living symbol of India’s diversity—something that must be protected not just by law, but by respect, memory, and a shared sense of belonging.

By restoring Urdu to its rightful place—as an Indian language, a people’s language, and a constitutional language—the Court reaffirms that inclusion, not exclusion, is the heart of our constitutional identity.

Debunking the myth that Urdu is alien

One of the most important contributions of this judgment is the way it confronts and dismantles the deep-rooted prejudice against the Urdu language—a prejudice that has been allowed to flourish in public discourse, often unchallenged. The Court recognises that the hostility towards Urdu is not grounded in linguistic fact, but in a political fiction, born out of Partition-era anxieties and perpetuated by majoritarian narratives.

In a critical passage, the Court squarely addresses and rebuts the idea that Urdu is somehow foreign or un-Indian:

“The prejudice against Urdu stems from the misconception that Urdu is alien to India… Urdu, like Marathi and Hindi, is an Indo-Aryan language. It is a language which was born in this land.” [Para 27]

This statement is not only accurate in terms of linguistic classification—Urdu, like Hindi and Marathi, evolved from Prakrit and Apabhramsha and belongs to the same Indo-Aryan family—but also essential in its rejection of the false notion that Urdu is inherently Islamic. The Court affirms what should be a basic and accepted truth: that Urdu is Indian in its origins, Indian in its development, and Indian in its usage.

It goes further to remind us that Urdu arose from real, lived interactions among people in India—particularly in the north and centre of the country—where different communities needed to communicate across linguistic and cultural lines. Over centuries, this led to the development of a sophisticated, inclusive, and adaptable language, enriched by multiple traditions and serving as a lingua franca in many regions. In fact, it was not born out of exclusivism, but out of coexistence.

The Court then makes a subtle but powerful observation about the everyday presence of Urdu, especially in the speech of people who may not even recognise its origins:

“Even today, the language used by the common people of the country is replete with words of the Urdu language, even if one is not aware of it.” [Para 37]

This insight challenges the idea that Urdu is used only by a particular religious or social group. On the contrary, the vocabulary of Urdu has become so woven into the fabric of everyday Hindi and Indian speech that it is impossible to separate the two without distorting both. From the language of friendship and affection to politics and cinema, Urdu has left a profound mark.

The Court also offers a striking example of how deeply entrenched Urdu is in the Indian legal system. It lists several key legal terms that are of Urdu origin and are still widely used in courts across the country—even in the Supreme Court, where the official language is English. The judgment notes:

“Urdu words have a heavy influence on Court parlance… Adalat, halafnama, peshi, vakalatnama, dasti…” [Para 38]

These are not minor or incidental terms. They are core procedural and functional terms used in both civil and criminal proceedings, known to every lawyer, judge, and litigant across India. ‘Adalat’ (court), ‘halafnama’ (affidavit), ‘peshi’ (appearance), ‘vakalatnama’ (power of attorney), and ‘dasti’ (by hand)—these are foundational building blocks of legal vocabulary.

This point is underscored further in the next line:

“Even though the official language of the Supreme Court… is English, yet many Urdu words continue to be used in this Court till date.” [Para 38]

In making this observation, the Court underlines an important irony: Urdu is being spoken, written, and relied upon at the highest levels of India’s judiciary, even as efforts continue in some quarters to stigmatise it. This lived reality gives lie to the claim that Urdu is somehow alien or inappropriate for official or legal use.

Together, these points form a comprehensive and compelling rebuttal of the misconceptions surrounding Urdu. The Court not only reaffirms that Urdu is as Indian as any other regional language, but also that it remains active, visible, and essential—not just culturally, but administratively and judicially.

Language as a bridge—not a weapon

In one of the segments of the judgment, the Court engages deeply with linguistic scholarship to challenge the idea that Hindi and Urdu are separate languages. This part of the judgment goes beyond the immediate question of signage and moves into the realm of intellectual history and sociolinguistics, showing how the binary between Hindi and Urdu was not a natural evolution but a consciously created political divide.

To support this, the Court draws on the works of prominent scholars such as Gyan Chand Jain, Amrit Rai, Ram Vilas Sharma, and Abdul Haq—all of whom have extensively studied the origins, development, and mutual influence of Hindi and Urdu.

“It is absolutely clear that Urdu and Hindi are not two separate languages… Even though Urdu literature and Hindi literature are two different and independent literatures, Urdu and Hindi are not two different languages.” [Para 41]

“Hindi-Urdu are not two separate languages; they are basically one and the same… There are no two other languages in the world whose pronouns and verbs are one hundred per cent the same.” [Para 42]

This is an emphatic and almost scientifically framed observation—what unites Hindi and Urdu is not merely poetic sentiment but the structural bedrock of language. The judgment notes that while their scripts differ (Devanagari for Hindi, Perso-Arabic for Urdu), and while each has drawn vocabulary from different classical sources (Sanskrit for Hindi, Persian and Arabic for Urdu), their spoken forms remain nearly indistinguishable in everyday use across north India.

In referencing Amrit Rai’s influential work, the Court aligns itself with the understanding that Hindi and Urdu emerged from the same linguistic root—Hindavi or Hindustani—and that the divide between them was sharpened over the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, not by natural evolution but by colonial language policies and post-Partition communal politics. Amrit Rai’s thesis, A House Divided, showed how political forces came to assign communal identities to languages that had once coexisted fluidly.

The judgment does not stop at historical analysis—it goes further to expose the consequences of this artificially constructed divide. By making language a marker of religious identity, a shared cultural and linguistic inheritance was fractured. Urdu came to be falsely viewed as “Muslim”, and Hindi as “Hindu”—a split that ignored centuries of shared grammar, mutual influence, and bilingual expression in the public sphere.

These scholarly citations give the judgment a rare academic depth. It is unusual—though deeply welcome—for the judiciary to cite literary historians and linguists so prominently. And yet, in doing so, the Court performs a vital task: it returns the conversation about language to the terrain of fact, scholarship, and nuance, rather than leaving it to be defined by prejudice and politicised emotion.

And then, poetry

The judgment ends with a poetic flourish, quoting Iqbal Ashhar’s nazm where Urdu speaks for itself:

““urdu hai mirā naam maiñ ‘Khusrav’ kī pahelī

kyuuñ mujh ko banāte ho ta.assub kā nishāna

maiñ ne to kabhī ḳhud ko musalmāñ nahīñ maanā

dekhā thā kabhī maiñ ne bhī ḳhushiyoñ kā zamāna

apne hī vatan meñ huuñ magar aaj akelī

urdu hai mirā naam maiñ ‘Khusrav’ kī pahelī” [Para 48]

“Urdu is my name, I am the riddle of ‘Khusrav’

Do not hold me for your prejudices

I never considered myself a Muslim

I too have seen happier times

I feel like an outsider in my homeland today

Urdu is my name, I am the riddle of ‘Khusrav’”

The Court then reflects:

“Let us make friends with Urdu and every language. If Urdu was to speak for herself, she would say…” [Para 48]

A verse that speaks of belonging, alienation, and identity—reminding the reader that Urdu, like any other Indian language, asks not for supremacy, but for space to exist.

Why this judgment is important

This is more than a legal ruling—it is a profound affirmation of India’s constitutional soul. It reasserts that the Constitution protects not only freedom of religion, but freedom of language, identity, and culture. India’s commitment to pluralism is not merely symbolic—it is embedded in its constitutional text and historical experience. This judgment operationalises that commitment with clarity and courage.

It is important because:

• It clarifies the law, confirming that there is no legal bar on using additional languages like Urdu on public signboards under the 2022 Act.
• It safeguards linguistic and cultural rights, especially of minority communities, and affirms that state recognition does not require the exclusion of others.
• It dispels the myth that Urdu is alien, asserting its deep roots in India’s linguistic heritage and constitutional imagination.
• It confronts majoritarian narratives, refusing to allow language to be communalised or weaponised.

This judgment stands out for its clarity, depth, and conviction. It does not merely interpret a statute or settle a procedural flaw—it reaffirms foundational constitutional values. By recognising the legitimacy of linguistic diversity and rejecting efforts to erase or marginalise a language rooted in India’s soil, the Court has underscored that governance must serve all, not just the dominant voice. In doing so, it reminds us that the Constitution protects not just rights in the abstract, but the dignity of communities, cultures, and the many languages in which India speaks.

The complete judgment may be read here.

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