In actual fact Urdu poetry has a genre for almost every circumstance and for every aspect of the human condition.

One such less-examined genre in Urdu poetry is the shahr ashob or city disturber.

In Turkish and Persian poetry, the city ‘disturber’ was usually a young boy engaged in a trade or craft who ‘coquettishly offers his wares to the lovestruck poet’ says Persianate and Comparative Literature historian Sunil Sharma.
It thus became a valuable chronicle of crafts prevalent in the era, he says.
Roots in another time

It started, according to him, with Masud Sa’d Salman (1121 AD), the first to write shahr ashob.

In 18th century India, however, there was a socio-political shift and it changed form, evolving into a lament for the city.

“Urdu shahr ashob began at the start of the eighteenth century. After the death of Aurangzeb (1707), frightful shadows of decadence [zaval] and adversity began to loom in every direction.

Thus the genre of poetry which in Persian and Turkish was especially used for intellectual enjoyment, became in Urdu a vehicle for the description of political, economic, and social disturbances,” says Dr Naim Ahmad.

This genre is a historical record of its times. It reflects the change in society. While royal scribes documenting ‘history’ were measured in their response, the poets were not.

It recorded the economic crisis of the previously prosperous Empire and post-1857, the change in status of royalty and nobility.

There are shahr ashob written by Shakir Naji, who was in the army of the Mughal Emperor Mohammad Shah when it was defeated in Karnal. He wrote a long shahr ashob on the impact of the military defeat on the Empire, nobility and society.

Then there is one shahr ashob by Qaim Chandpuri that blasts the Mughal Emperor Shah Alam II who took the help of the Marathas to defeat the Rohilla, Zabita Khan in the battle of Sarkartal in 1772.

Kaisa yeh Shah ke zulm pe uski nigah hai

Haathon se uske ek jahan dadkhah hai

Luchha ek aap saath looter sipah hai

Namus e khalq sa’e mein uske talab hai

Shaitan ka yeh zil hai naa Zill e Ilahi

What kind of King is he who is intent on injustice?

An entire world is protesting against him

A lout himself, has a brigand army

The honour of the people is defiled by his rule

He is the shadow of Satan, not the shadow of God*

(From http://www.columbia.edu/itc/mealac/pritchett/00urduhindilinks/txt_sharma_shahrashob_2004.pdf)

It was a genre in which Mir Taqi Mir and Mohd Rafi Sauda excelled.
Bloody events and a poetic outcome

The aftermath of Ahmed Shah Abdali’s sack of Delhi and the fall of Delhi into British hands in 1857 has produced some gems of Urdu poetry.

1739 saw the sack of Delhi by the Persian invader Nadir Shah.

Nadir Shah at the sack of Delhi. Credit: Museum of Fine Arts, Boston
It is said that he saw the massacre from Sonehri Masjid in Chandni Chowk. A gate near it, now no longer extant, was named Khooni Darwaza because of that.

Mohammad Rafi Sauda writes after Nadir Shah’s invasion:

Jahanabad tu kab iss sitam ke qabil tha

Magar kabho kisi aashiq ka yeh nagar dil tha

Ke yun mita diya goya ke naqsh e batil tha

Ajab tarah se yeh bahr e jahan mein sahil tha

Ke jis ki khaak se leti thi falak moti roll

Jahanabad you were never deserving of such tyranny

–

You were once the heart of lovers, many

Why has it been destroyed as if a lie by destiny?

T’was a wondrous beach in the sea of plenty

Precious stones on your shores galore

Mir Taqi Mir had to leave Delhi for Lucknow in search of employment and his shahr ashob reflects the economic devastation of Delhi:

Marne ke martabe mein hain ahbaab

Jo shanasa mila so be asbaab

Tangdasti se sab bahaal kharab

Jis ke hai baal, tau nahin hai tanaab

Jiske hain farash, tau nahin hain faraash

My friends all seemed to death, near

Whoever I met had lost all possessions, once so dear

Poverty seems to be a cross all have to bear

If one had a thread, no rope was in sight here

If one had a carpet, there were none to roll it out

These four months saw murder and mayhem, first of the British and Europeans by the rebellious sepoys and then by the British.
Two sepoys of the 31st Native Infantry who were hanged in Lucknow in 1857. Photo: Felice Beato
The wrath of the victorious British fell on the citizens of Shahjahanabad with those who weren’t killed fleeing the city. The Timurid family who lived inside the Qila e Moalla fled for their lives, many were captured and killed, many turned into menial servants by the British.

Mufti Sadruddin Azurda who held the post of Sadr e Delhi wrote in shocked disbelief.

Zewar almas ka tha jin se na pahna jata

Bhaari jhumar bhi kabhi sir pe na rakhha jaata

Sar pe bojh liye chaar taraf phirte hain

Do qadam chalte hain mushkil se tau phir girte hain

Those frail ladies, are made to carry heavy loads, alas

They can barely walk a few steps before they fall down

The delicate ones who couldn’t carry the weight of precious gems

For whom heavy jewellery was a burden too heavy
(published in Catch news http://www.catchnews.com/culture-news/the-lost-art-of-urdu-poetry-shahr-ashob-was-a-lament-for-a-city-1442426363.html)

(Nawab Shahab al-Din Ahmad Khan Bahadur, pen-
named “Saqib,” the eldest successor of Nawab Ziyaʾ al-Din Ahmad Khan Bahadur; peerless in the
universe as a composer of poetry and prose, of the elect disciples of Nawab Asad Allah Khan Bahadur
“Ghalib.”)

Ancient Sky, Delhi’s mortal enemy,
what did you gain when Dehli’s every trace was lost?
Alas that Shah Jahan’s building should be dug up!
Alas, for Delhi’s splendour has been razed.
Neither the Fort is there, nor its old street.
Why, then, should Delhites think Delhi is Heaven?
Thanks to this city’s ruin, other cities are peopled.
Delhi’s autumn is the worldly meadow’s spring.
Why shouldn’t Delhites bemoan their luck
when Bakht Khan takes taxes from Delhi?
There were thousands of musicians with enchanting melodies, but now
the few ones left are singing elegies for Delhi.
God sent us a governor, just and wise,
then some of Delhi’s houses were peopled again.
Who is that ruler of Jamshed’s rank? Cooper sahib!
May he be called the Shah Jahan of Delhi!
Night and day, the citizens of Delhi chant:
God save the ones who brought such grace to Delhi!”
Once more the Jama Masjid’s bustle fills the market,
once more, every store in Delhi is adorned.
There is a beautiful museum in the Fort
like a Chinese idol-house it watches over Delhi.
Chandni Chowk was ruined, but then built anew
let us call it the youthful fortune of Delhi.
The colour of adornment in the Chowk’s garden is such
that even Paradise swears by the life of Delhi.
No doubt Iranians will hear this ghazal, and they’ll say:
“Perhaps Saqib was of the knowers of the language of Delhi.”

(From Salahuddin Ahmad, ed., “Fughan-e Dihli” (Lahore, 1954 [Delhi, 1863]

1.Mushkil jo apni huyi jo bood o baash, Apne lashkar men hum baraye talash, Unke dekhi yaan ki turfa maash

1.When living became an uphill task, In soldiers camp we sought refuge, In narrow straits we found them caught.
2. Haye lab e nan pe sau jagah khirash, Nayi daam e aab hai, nayi chamchaa e aash

2.They lived on bread stale& scorched, No drop of drink, no spoon of broth
3.Marne ke martabe men hain ahbaab, Jo shanaasa mila so be asbaab, Tangdasti se sab bahaal kharab,

3.My friends, I found were nearing death, deprived of goods were all I met, Each and all were poverty pressed
4..Jiske hai baal tau nahi hai tanaab, Jiske hain farash tau nahi hai faraash.

4. If one had thread, he had no rope, If one had carpet,none to roll.

5.Zindagi huyi hai sab pe bawaal, Kunjre jheenken hai, rote hain baqaal,
6. Pooch mat kuchh sipahiyon ka haal, Ek talwar neeche hai, ik dhal, Badshaah o wazeer sab qalaash

6. Soldiers used their swords and shields as cots. The king and councillors, bankrupt all

7.Paise wale jot hay huwe hain faqeer, Tan se zaahir ragen hain jaisi lakeer, Hain maazib gharz sagheer o kabeer,
7.Men of means have joined beggars fold, Their veins like lines on paper,on their body show, Great&small r helpless,so are young and old

8. Makhiyan si giren hazaaron faqeer, Dekhen tukda agar baraber mash.
8.A thousand beggars pounce together like a swarm of flies, When a crumb or grain of wheat somewherethey descry
9.Shor mutliq nahi kasu sar men, Zor baaqi nahin asp o ushtar men, Bhook ka zikr aql o aksar men

9.Every head lies benumbed, Horse and camel are sans strength, Hunger cries on every
10.Khaana jangi se aman lashkar men, Na koi rind hai, na koi oobaash.

10.Thanks to the civil strife, soldiers sit content, No fear of drunken brawls or youth vagrant.
11Jitne hain yaan ameer, be dastoor, Phir yeh husn o salook sab mashoor, Pahunchana un talak bahut hai door

11 Unscrupulous r they all,the town’s elite, Everyone doth understand how they speak&treat, Moreover, these haughty rich aren’t easy to reach
12 Baat kahne kaa waan kise maqdoor Haasil unse na dil ko ghair khiraash

12.In their absence who can dare speak? Their conduct hurts theheart, biting is their speech
13 Bas qalam ab zabaan ko apni sambhaal, Khush numa kab hai aisi qail o qaal,

13.Enough now my pen,your tongue control, Who will b regaled with this tale of woe?

14.Hai kudhab charkh e roo seah ki chaal, Maslehat hai ke rahiye hokar laal, Fayda kya jo raaz kariye faash