
Hyderabad: The Urdu language is celebrated for its poetic richness and diversity. From the romantic ghazal and lyrical geet to the devotional naat and marsiya, it offers a genre for every human emotion and circumstance. Yet among its many treasures lies a forgotten form — Shahr Ashob, the city’s lament — a poignant poetic genre that once gave voice to grief over societal upheavals, political decay, and collective despair.
This lesser-known but historically significant genre took center stage recently at the Urdu Asnafe Suqan programme held at the Maulana Azad Oriental Research Institute in Hyderabad. The gathering of poets and scholars rekindled interest in the Shahr Ashob, reminding listeners of its emotional depth and historical resonance.
“Poets never lived in isolation from their surroundings,” said Dr. Javeed Kamal, the man behind the event. “When the destruction of Delhi took place, they poured out their anguish through Shahr Ashob.”
He explained how, following the death of Aurangzeb and the decline of the Mughal Empire, poets increasingly turned to this form to capture the social and political disintegration of their times.
The Urdu Asnafe Suqan series is part of a larger initiative by the Anjumane Rekhta Goyan, founded by Dr Javeed Kamal, which organises weekly programmes to revive interest in Urdu language and literature — especially among the younger generation. During the last few weeks the Anjuman has organised interesting programmes on different aspects of Urdu literature: Khaka (sketch), Afsana (short story), Inshaiyya (essay), Khutoot (letters), drama. All those interested in Urdu can walk in and make a presentation. By revisiting classical genres the Anjuman hopes to reconnect youth with Urdu’s rich literary heritage and cultural expression.
The Lament of a City
Literally translating to “the city’s misfortune,” Shahr Ashob emerged as a distinct genre in Persian literature before taking root in Urdu and Turkish. The earliest examples date back to the 12th century, but it flourished in the 18th and 19th centuries — an era of invasions, famine, and imperial decline.
Structured in five to six stanzas, each poem typically unfolds in rhymed verse, with the first four lines following a rhyme scheme and the fifth serving as a reflective conclusion. The tone is almost always one of grief — a lament for a fallen city, a lost world, or a shattered moral order.
The genre first appeared in South Asia through Mughal poets like Masud Sa’d Salman, who wrote Ashobs reflecting the turmoil of his times. Later, Shakir Naji, who served in the Mughal army during Muhammad Shah’s reign, captured the military and political upheavals that ravaged the empire.
Prominent exponents of the Shahr Ashob genre include Mir Taqi Mir, Mirza Muhammad Rafi Sauda, and Qaim Chandpuri. Their verses vividly evoke the ruin of Delhi following the invasions of Nader Shah and Ahmed Shah Abdali.
Mir’s Ashobs mourned the economic and moral devastation that followed Abdali’s plunder of Delhi, while Sauda’s works described the horrors of Nader Shah’s assault. Qaim Chandpuri’s poems chronicled the decline of Mughal authority and the uneasy political alliances of his time, including those with the Marathas.
Echoes of loss and defiance
At the Hyderabad event, speakers such as Rafia Nausheen, Javeed Mohiuddin, Abdul Rahman Saleem, and Dr Atiya Mujeeb Arafi highlighted how the Shahr Ashob evolved into a collective memory of resistance. They noted that the 1857 uprising — India’s First War of Independence — marked a turning point for the genre. The fall of Delhi and the subsequent loss of Muslim political power became central themes, turning poetry into both lament and defiance.
“The Sepoy Mutiny (1857 rebellion) was a watershed,” said Dr Atiya Mujeeb Arafi. “It cast a long shadow across India’s history, and poets seized the moment to immortalise their pain through verse. The city itself became a metaphor for shattered dreams and fading grandeur.”
Voices from the past and present
Sunday came alive with recitations of classic and modern Shahr Ashob poetry. Works by Allama Iqbal, Nazeer Akbarabadi, Ibrahim Zauq, Mirza Sauda, and contemporary poet Imran Pratapgarhi on the devastation of Gaza were rendered to a spellbound audience.
Rafia Nausheen recited Iqbal’s evocative poem Jazeera-e-Sisily (The Island of Sicily):
Ro le ab dil khol kar ae dida-e-khūn-ābā bar
Woh nazar aata hai tehzeeb-e-Hijāzī ka mazār
(Weep to thy heart’s content, O blood-weeping eye;
Yonder lies the tomb of Muslim civilization.)
Iqbal penned the poem after passing by the island of Sicily in 1905 on his voyage to England. The sight of the island – once a thriving center of Arab-Islamic learning – stirred in him a profound sorrow for the lost glory of the Muslim world.
Another highlight of the evening was poet Abdul Baseer Khalid’s moving verses that resonated with contemporary urban decay:
Panchhiyon ka wo ghar nahin baaqi,
Shahr ka wo shajar nahin baaqi;
Oonchi hone lagi hain deewaren,
Roshni ka guzar nahin baaqi
(The birds have lost their nest,
The city its tree of rest;
Walls are growing tall and stark,
No room remains for light or spark.)
Inspired by Allama Iqbal’s timeless poem – Lab pe aati hai dua, Imran Pratapgarhi, poet-politician, has captured the Palestinian predicament beautifully in a poem. Humsamuddin Riyaz recited this poem and cast a spell:
Kash duniya samajh pati ye jhagda kya hai
Aap ke ghar pe kisi ghair ka khabza kya hai
(If only the world could understand the fight
Why a stranger claims your home by right)
Keeping the tradition alive
For poetry lovers of Hyderabad, accustomed to ghazals, na’at, and humorous verses, it was a refreshing change – a return to a form that chronicles not just personal pain but civilisational loss.
“Every age has its own Ashob,” remarked one speaker. “Today’s poets too must capture the anxieties and disruptions of our time – the vanishing of compassion, the loss of community, the fading of light.”
As the event drew to a close, it was evident that the Shahr Ashob still speaks powerfully to modern audiences. Its lament for broken cities and broken hearts remains as relevant today as it was in Mir’s Delhi – reminding us that poetry, at its best, not only mourns what is lost but also keeps memory alive.