As times get tougher, Urdu publishers find it increasingly tough to stay afloat
Facing financial constraints and poor distribution, the future of Urdu publishers is rife with uncertainty.
Between Covers: Some of the recently published Urdu books like Aangan, and Guldan, Kai Chand Thhe Sare Aasman.
Urdu hai jis ka naam hamin jaante hain Daagh
Saare jahan mein dhoom hamare zaban ki hai
(What’s called Urdu, only we realise Daagh
Our language is celebrated across the world)
DAAGH DEHLVI (1831-1905) wrote this couplet when Urdu was the lingua franca of the Indian subcontinent. Daagh was lucky. In his lifetime, he published four volumes of poetry, comprising 16,000 couplets and a masnavi (long poem). Daagh’s mentor, Mirza Ghalib (1797-1869), published a diwan (complete collection) of his poems, and letters in his lifetime, too. But that was then. Today, even though the language continues to be celebrated, Urdu publishing in the country seems to be in a sad shape, staring at financial constraints and uncertainty.
Urdu publishers are finding it increasingly tough to stay afloat as the number of readers who know the Nastaliq style of Perso-Arabic script, in which Urdu is written, continues to dwindle. Today, fewer quality books by contemporary writers in Urdu are printed, published and critiqued. “The challenge for us is to sustain our business,” says Moonis Ali Nasri, 29, proprietor of Kitab Bhavan, a Delhi-based publisher and distributor of Urdu books, which also deals in titles written in other languages.
Languages don’t die. However, when their original script loses currency, their growth is stifled. Poets and writers say the task before the Urdu press is to be professional, to reinvent, restrategise and be in sync with the changing times.
According to Urdu writers such as Shehpar Rasool and Jameel Akhtar, if they want to publish their works, they have to get them printed at their own expense. A publisher charges Rs 2,000-3,000 to publish 200 copies of any title. However, once the book is published, it reaches only a small circle of the authors’ friends. Rasool, 62, poet and professor at Jamia Millia Islamia in New Delhi, had to self-publish most of his books, including his debut anthology, Sadaf Samandar (1988), as well as his latest, Kuch Bhi Nahin Badla (2018). According to him, being published is no longer a big deal because “everyone is getting published”. What matters is reaching more readers.
Author and academic Athar Farooqui, 55, general secretary of Anjuman-i Taraqqi-i Urdu (Hind) or ATUH, Delhi, which works for the dissemination of the Urdu language, says that there is no dearth of good writers in Urdu, just as there is no dearth of publishers and readers. He cautions against drawing parallels with publishing houses in other languages. “They are two different worlds,” says Farooqui, adding that ATUH, which has tied up with online sellers like Amazon and Flipkart, sells books worth Rs 1-1.25 lakh every month.
It’s not that easy for smaller, private Urdu publishers, like Educational Publishing House or Farid Book Depot, Delhi. The print run of any title in Urdu varies from 200-500. And they sell fewer copies. Many of these small publishers don’t meet the requirements of online sellers when it comes to packaging and delivery of books. “It’s easier to reach more readers through social media these days. Once a writer puts his work in a post on Facebook, he or she can easily reach about 2,000 odd readers, albeit of varied levels,” says Delhi-based poet and broadcaster Nomaan Shauq, 54. Fiction writer Khalid Jawed, 59, says that Urdu publishers also lack a good distribution system. “My books have been dumped in Tihar Jail and Parliament libraries after they were purchased in bulk. Who will read my books there?” he wonders.
Bulk purchase of Urdu books is done by libraries as well as government-aided institutions like the National Council for Promotion of Urdu Language (NCPUL), National Book Trust (NBT), Sahitya Akademi and Urdu Academy, which also give grants to Urdu writers. Aquil Ahmad, director, NCPUL, touted to be the world’s largest Urdu publishing house which publishes 50-55 new titles every year, says that readership is shrinking across languages, not just Urdu. The difference, he says, is that while books in English are available online, not too many Urdu books are. The sales figures vary from genre to genre, too. While classics, social sciences and books on criticism sell more, fiction and poetry by new writers see fewer copies flying off the shelves. Among the all-time bestsellers in Urdu are works by Saadat Hasan Manto, Ismat Chughtai, Qurratulain Hyder, Faiz Ahmad Faiz, Ahmad Faraz, Allama Iqbal, Mirza Ghalib, Premchand, etc
While editorial rigour is evident in Urdu books published in Pakistan, where publishers like Sang-e-Meel and Oxford University Press are the vanguards of literary publishing, many Urdu titles in India are produced shoddily, says critic and translator Professor Shafey Kidwai. Akhtar, 60, who has compiled unpublished stories of Chughtai (Guldan, published by Sang-e-Meel, Pakistan, in 2017 and by the NBT last year, and Hyder (Aayena-e-Jahaan: Afsanay, Farid Book Depot, 2007), says that due to the “lethargy” in universities and colleges where Urdu is taught, “there is no quest to discover new things.”
The publication of Urdu books in Devanagari script has also meant loss of business for Urdu publishers, even though it has augmented the reach of Urdu works. Today, Hindi publishers, like Rajpal and Sons, sell more books by Urdu writers than those of Hindi.
Rekhta, a not-for-profit organisation, has been organising Jashn-e-Rekhta, a festival of Urdu, which has revived interest in the language among young and old Indians, who have begun to bond over Urdu. Besides, it has the largest collection of Urdu e-books, including some rare texts. Like NCPUL, it also runs online Urdu leaning programmes which have been received well by young learners. None of this, however, is enough to change the shape of things at Urdu publishing houses. “The focus of individuals and institutions has moved away from promoting the script. There are institutions that give publishing grants, and books do get published, but they hardly reach a wider readership,” says Shauq, whose latest anthology, Aakhiri Ishq Sabse Pehle, was published by Rekhta Books, the NGO’s newly launched publishing arm, in Devanagari last year.
The publication of Shamsur Rahman Faruqi’s Urdu novel, Kai Chand Thhe Sare Aasman, by a mainstream English publisher like Penguin in 2005, was a vindication of the popularity of Urdu literature. Faruqi, whose English translation of Kai Chand… was published by Penguin in 2013, however, argues that Urdu publishing business is not moribund, even if the print run of Urdu books has reduced. “It’s not booming, but it’s also not bujhta hua (fading),” he says, “There are many who can read Urdu. Script is not an impediment. The impediment is social and political.” He believes that the “fading script” narrative is a fiction created by the anti-Urdu brigade. “Those of us who lack courage accept it as an alibi. If publishers wish to sell books, it’s not difficult,” he says.
According to Faruqi, new publishers like Brown Books, MR Publications and Arshia Publications are printing fiction and poetry by contemporary writers which are very well produced.
Today, mainstream publishers, like Penguin Random House and HarperCollins, publish translations of works by Urdu writers. Ambar Sahil Chatterjee, senior commissioning editor (Penguin classics/literary publishing) at Penguin Random House India, says that they seek out books that have either “stood the test of time or books generating a lot of interest.” Penguin will publish A Promised Land, the translation by Daisy Rockwell of Khadija Mastur’s Zameen this July.
For Urdu publishers, the road ahead may have hurdles, but, perhaps, they could change things for themselves if they keep in step with the times, by embracing technology, which has revolutionised the relationship between the text and the reader in other languages.
This article appeared in print with the headline ‘A Word in Season.
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