Urdunama

In poetry, “Sannata” isn’t just silence but the stillness where everything stops. It is the absence of sound, of presence, of movement, yet it carries a strange weight. Poets like Gulzar, Ameer Qazalbash, Abbas Tabish and Manmohan Shukla ‘Talkh’ have turned this silence into a living emotion. For Gulzar, sannata comes sneakily, filled with the fear of losing someone. Ameer Qazalbash writes of a silence that feels like the aftermath of a tragedy. Abbas Tabish’s interpretation of sannata shows emotional distance between two people, And in Talkh’s verse, sannata becomes deeply personal, its the kind that takes away the sense of self.Tune in to explore how sannata speaks louder than words. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In Urdu, chain means comfort, meaning when the heart finally feels at ease. Bechaini is the opposite. It is the restlessness that keeps you awake, searching for something more, something else.Poets like Faiz Ahmad Faiz, Shaikh Ibrahim Zauq, and Josh Malihabadi wrote from this space between calm and chaos. Maybe that’s what it is. Not choosing between comfort and restlessness, but learning to live with both and to let chain and bechaini speak to each other inside of us. Tune in as Fabeha Syed reads works of these masters among others.  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Roshni, meaning 'light', in Urdu poetry is never alone. It gains meaning only when contrasted with darkness, whether that’s doubt, loneliness, or the moments that challenge our hearts. Poets show us that hope isn’t about perfection; it’s about courage, resilience, and the quiet moments when even a small glimmer can guide us.From Shakeel Badayuni’s faith tested by doubt, to Bashir Badr’s morning breeze reminding us of small joys, and Waseem Barelvi’s light that moves and spreads wherever it can — roshni is alive and shared. In Urdu poetry, roshni is more than illumination. It is hope, presence, and the courage to shine even through the shadows of lurking tareeki meaning darkness. This Diwali, may we all try to stop looking for light outside, and become roshni ourselves. Tune in.  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In this episode, we explore Urdu word Ranj, sorrow, grief, and the small heartbreaks that shape our lives. From Sahir to Dagh, Shakeel, and Irfan, each poet has experienced, expressed, and understood Ranj in their own way. Sometimes it becomes empathy, sometimes resilience, and sometimes a quiet irony.We unpack these layers through poetry and reflection, showing how Ranj is not just about pain but also about how we feel, endure, and even find meaning in it. Tune in. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In this episode, we explore the word Hazir — a simple word that means “present,” but in Urdu poetry it holds much deeper weight. With verses from Parveen Shakir and Ahmad Faraz, we look at how hazir shifts in its context and scope. the couplets curated in this episode reminds us that being hazir is never just about attendance. It’s about presence with all its complexity — love, loss, surrender, resistance — and it asks us what it really means to show up fully in front of another person, or in front of the truth.  Tune in. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In this episode, we dive into the idea of ghaib — that mysterious, hidden side of life that we can’t fully see or grasp. We move from the mystical inspiration in Ghalib’s poetry, to the revolutionary energy in Chakbast’s ghazal, and the creative intinacy that echoes in Ahmad Salman’s verses, discovering how poets have drawn from the unseen to fuel creativity, emotion, and reflection.But ghaib isn’t just a poetic idea. In real life, it’s a gentle reminder that we don’t have control over everything. We can’t always know what others are thinking, what the right outcome of our choices will be, or why certain things happen. And that’s okay. Understanding this allows us to focus on what we can control, while letting go of what we can’t.Through poetry, reflection, and real-life lessons, this episode shows how embracing the hidden can bring clarity, patience, and a deeper sense of peace. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

What does it mean to 'dance' in Urdu poetry? In this episode of Urdunama, Fabeha Syed explores Raqs, the movements, the madness, and the magic behind it. It's the kind that moves your heart, your soul, even the world around you. We look at the ashaar of Majrooh Sultanpuri, Saghar Khayyami, and Abbas Tabish, and see how they turn dance into metaphor: the joy of little steps, the madness that takes over, the wild energy that can’t be contained. From playful, innocent moments to powerful, overwhelming ones, raqs shows us how poetry captures life in motion. Tune in, and feel the rhythm of 'Raqs' through Urdu poetry. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In this episode of Urdunama, Fabeha Syed explores the word Fursat, those rare moments of time when you can pause, breathe, and just be. What does it mean in Urdu poetry? We look at the ashaar of Ghalib, Faiz, and Sahir, tracing how each poet reflects on these small luxuries: the freedom to imagine, the quiet spaces that let life breathe, and the way even fleeting moments can feel enormous. From daydreaming about the beloved to feeling the weight of solitude and the world’s relentless pace, fursat becomes more than just leisure, it’s a window into the soul.  Tune in.  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

This week on Urdunama, we talk about manzar, a word that means a view, a scene, a spectacle. In Urdu poetry, though, it’s more than just scenery; it’s like a theatre of the mind where words create pictures and feelings at the same time. With the verses of Gulzar, Nida Fazli, and Bashir Badr, we look at how one simple manzar can open up entire worlds of silence, dreams, and reflection. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

For centuries, Urdu has been part of a shared cultural space, shaped by people from diverse communities and traditions. Yet this fact is often forgotten or pushed aside. That’s why the new anthology Whose Urdu Is It Anyway? feels so important. Edited and translated into English by writer, literary historian, and translator Dr. Rakhshanda Jalil, the book brings together 16 Urdu short stories written by non-Muslim writers. The collection features powerful voices such as Krishan Chander, Rajinder Singh Bedi, Kanhaiya Lal Kapoor, and Gulzar, among others. Together, their stories challenge the stereotype that Urdu belongs to a single identity, reminding us instead that it has always been a language of many, reflecting universal themes of love, loss, displacement, and belonging. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Shiddat means intensity, the force of feeling when emotion refuses to stay small. It is love that burns without pause, grief that floods without mercy, joy that shakes the soul to its core. Shiddat is the storm within us, the fire in every longing, the ache in every absence. It does not whisper; it roars. In Urdu poetry, shiddat is the heartbeat of passion and pain alike, where words become flames, and silence carries weight. In this episode of Urdunama, we step into the world of shiddat through the verses of poets who captured the fiercest shades of the human heart. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Khaak means dust, humble, weightless, and ever-returning to the earth. It is where all journeys end and where every beginning quietly stirs. Khaak carries the memory of everything it has touched, walls once standing, feet once wandering, lives once lived. In Urdu poetry, khaak becomes a reminder of impermanence, of the fragility of glory, and of the beauty in humility. It speaks of both finality and renewal, of endings that feed beginnings. In this episode of Urdunama, we walk with khaak through the verses of poets who have found in it life’s deepest truths. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Zakhm means wound, but in poetry, it is more than just pain. It is memory stitched into skin, heartbreak carried in silence, and love that once cut deep. A zakhm can be raw or hidden, healing or haunting. In Urdu verse, it becomes a canvas, where sorrow turns into metaphor, and suffering into something almost beautiful. Zakhm isn’t just what breaks us; it’s what shapes us. In this episode of Urdunama, we explore the many meanings of zakhm through the verses of poets who transformed pain into poetry. Join us as we reflect on how wounds, seen and unseen, leave marks that often speak louder than words. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Hassaas means sensitive, a word that lives in the pauses, in the glances that linger a little longer, in the hearts that feel too much, too deeply. To be hassaas is to notice what others miss, to carry invisible weight, to be moved by the slightest shift in the air. It is a gift of awareness, but also a quiet ache—a constant hum beneath the noise of the world. In Urdu poetry, hassaas becomes the soul of expression, where pain, love, and truth are felt in their purest forms. In this episode of Urdunama, we explore the delicate world of hassaas through verses that honour vulnerability, emotional intensity, and the quiet power of those who feel deeply. Join us as we reflect on sensitivity, not as fragility, but as a different kind of strength. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Beyhis means numb—an absence of feeling that grows not from peace, but from exhaustion. It is the quiet void after too much pain, the stillness that follows when even sorrow becomes heavy to carry. Beyhis is not indifference; it is the body and soul’s final defense, a silence that shields, a pause that protects. In Urdu poetry, it becomes a haunting space—where once there was fire, now only cold remains. In this episode of Urdunama, we explore the layered meaning of beyhis through verses that reflect emotional withdrawal, inner fatigue, and the ache of feeling too much, for too long. Join us as we uncover the poetry in numbness—and the quiet truths it tries to hide. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Malaal means regret, a soft ache that lives in silence, in the pause between what was and what could’ve been. It is not always loud or visible, but it lingers in missed chances, in unsent letters, in goodbyes that never found their words. Malaal doesn’t ask to be resolved; it asks to be remembered. In Urdu poetry, it becomes the quiet thread that ties together loss, longing, and lessons not yet learned. In this episode of Urdunama, we sit with malaal, not to escape it, but to understand it. Through verses soaked in memory and emotion, we explore how poets have turned regret into reflection and sorrow into something beautifully human. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Yaqeen means belief, an unshaken trust, a light that holds steady even in the darkest hour. It is the quiet strength behind every decision, the invisible thread that pulls us forward when everything else falters. Yaqeen doesn’t always roar; sometimes, it’s a whisper that refuses to fade. In poetry, it becomes a force, of faith, of love, of conviction, that anchors the soul in a world of doubt. In this episode of Urdunama, we explore the depth of yaqeen through verses that speak of courage, clarity, and quiet confidence. Join us as we trace how poets have held on to belief, not as blind certainty, but as a powerful act of hope. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Saaneha means tragedy, a moment that splits time into before and after. It arrives uninvited, heavy and abrupt, leaving behind silence louder than words. A saaneha isn’t just an event, it’s an emotional landscape, marked by loss, disbelief, and the slow rebuilding that follows. In Urdu poetry, saaneha becomes a language of grief, but also of resilience, how pain is remembered, carried, and sometimes, turned into verse. In this episode of Urdunama, we dwell on saaneha through the eyes of poets who have captured sorrow with grace. Join us as we explore how poetry gives shape to what feels unspeakable, and how even tragedy can hold the faint outline of beauty. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Mutma’een means content, an inner stillness that cannot be shaken, a quiet trust in the rhythm of things. It is not the absence of longing, but the soft presence of peace amidst it. To be mutma’een is to rest in the heart’s own knowing, to breathe without needing answers, and to carry calm like a companion. In a world built on urgency, mutma’een arrives like dusk—unhurried, whole, and luminous. In this episode of Urdunama, we sit with the word mutma’een, tracing how poets have expressed calm, surrender, and soulful contentment in their verses. Join us as we explore how poetry teaches us to be still, even when the world won’t. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Chashma means spring—a quiet source where life begins, hidden beneath the surface until it chooses to rise. It is not loud like a storm, but steady like hope. In Urdu poetry, chashma becomes a symbol of purity, emotional release, and quiet resilience. It is the moment the heart overflows, the tear before it falls, the breath before a beginning. A chashma doesn’t just quench—it reveals. It reminds us that from the deepest stillness, something sacred can flow. In this episode of Urdunama, we trace the gentle path of chashma through verses that speak of renewal, longing, and the beauty of emergence. Join us as we explore how poetry captures the grace of what quietly begins, yet never truly ends. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices