The Supreme Court of India has finally brought clarity to a long-contested question: Is Urdu an Indian language? In its unequivocal verdict, the Apex court affirmed that Urdu is as Indian as Hindi, Marathi or Sanskrit. This pronouncement, rooted in constitutional and historical truth, should serve as a moment of reckoning for both policymakers and citizens alike. When the Constitution came into force in 1950, Urdu was rightfully included in the Eighth Schedule, along with several other regional languages. That list now contains 22 languages, all of which are considered part of India’s cultural and linguistic heritage. Urdu’s place on that list is neither incidental nor symbolic, it reflects its deep-rooted history in the Indian subcontinent.
Both Hindi and Urdu evolved from Hindustani, a language shaped and popularised in the late 19th and early 20th centuries as a bridge between communities. It emerged at a time when the languages of power, like Persian and Sanskrit, were either too foreign or too elitist for the masses. Hindustani, and by extension Urdu and Hindi, brought language closer to the people. But after Partition, Urdu became unfairly politicised. Its adoption as the official language of Pakistan led to it being stigmatised in India as a “foreign” or “Muslim” language. This was a tragic distortion. Pakistan remains the only Muslim-majority nation to adopt Urdu as its national language. And yet, in India, where the language was born and nurtured, its status has steadily declined.
The case that led to the Supreme Court’s ruling arose from a seemingly minor dispute over a bilingual signboard in Maharashtra. The inclusion of Urdu, alongside Marathi, was challenged, despite the fact that the locality had a majority of Urdu-speaking residents. The court rejected this objection at every level, culminating in a clear and historic endorsement of Urdu’s rightful place in public life. What makes this ruling significant is not just its legal clarity but its cultural implications. It reasserts that language is not the preserve of any religion. Just as Sanskrit was once resisted for being the language of the elite, Urdu has been unfairly cast aside as the language of “the other”.
Despite its elegance, literary richness, and unmatched sweetness, Urdu has been dying a slow death—starved of government support, sidelined in education, and abandoned by younger generations, who are pressured to prioritise Hindi and English for career advancement. Languages do not survive on sentiment alone. They need policy, funding, education, and institutional patronage. The Supreme Court has done its part. It is now up to the state to act before a jewel of India’s linguistic heritage is lost to silence.
