BRAHM – Brown Pundits

Pakistaniat & Urdu from Qasim to Quaid

July 16, 2025July 18, 2025X.T.MBahá’í, BRAHM, Brown Pundits, Culture, India, Iran, Islam & the Middle East, Language, Pakistan, Partition, Postcolonialism & the Global South, Politics, Religion, X.T.MArabic, Baha’i Faith, Civilizational Commentary, colonial legacy, Cultural Assimilation, Culture, Diaspora, Identity, Juhi Malik, Language, Mahajir, Pakistan, Pakistan Studies, Partition, Persian, Politics, postcolonialism, Punjabi, Religion, Sindhi, South Asia, Ta’arof, Urdu2 Comments

UP’s very long shadow:

As I board my flight back to the UK after a brief but productive trip, I find myself reflecting on a language that continues to haunt and inspire me: Urdu.

It is a tongue caught between paradoxes. The language of courtesans and qawwals, of sacred supplication and sly seduction. It carries within it the scent of jasmine and blood, of Delhi’s dusk and Lahore’s lingering grief.

The Beloved Guardian of the Baha’i Faith once noted that while most Baha’i texts should be translated from English, Urdu alone is trusted for direct translation from Persian and Arabic. That proximity, that spiritual siblinghood with Persian, the language of kings, and Arabic, the language of God, renders Urdu magical.

Sanskrit, of course, is the language of gods, but Urdu, its stepdaughter of sorts, captures the longing of poet to partisan.

There’s a reason the Bahá’í prayer I share below is so piercing in Urdu. So here, before I cross back into another timezone, I offer this prayer—without commentary, without translation. Just Urdu, as it was meant to be heard.

And I wonder: perhaps this is what Pakistan truly is—a project in transcending the local. Not rooted in soil, but in sentiment. A place where Punjabis, Pathans, and Muhajirs are asked to shed skin and commune in Urdu. Where Pakistaniyat, for all its fractures, has succeeded in producing a common idiom: of piety, pride, and pain. Continue reading Pakistaniat & Urdu from Qasim to Quaid

Ta’arof & The Art of Flattery

July 14, 2025July 18, 2025X.T.MBRAHM, Civilisation, Iran, Islam & the Middle East, Race, X.T.MAssimilation, cultural appropriation, cultural misrepresentation, Culture, Diaspora, etiquette, Globalization, high-context communication, Identity, identity politics, Iran, Language, Media Criticism, Onunchi, Persian culture, Rainn Wilson, sociolinguistics, Ta’arof, Tehrangeles, Westernization7 Comments

I recently saw a cringeworthy clip of Rainn Wilson, yes that Rainn Wilson, earnestly trying to explain Ta’arof (while not even being able to pronounce Tahdig). The famed Iranian art of polite refusal was reduced, predictably, to the idea of “saying no three times.” A charming simplification, perhaps, but a misleading one.

The Ritual of Misunderstanding

Ta’arof is a millennia-old Persian artform; rooted perhaps as far back as the Achaemenid Empire. It is centered on flattery, politeness, and ritualised courtesy and is not merely etiquette; it is the performance and ritualisation of it.

Because Tarof isn’t about numerical formulae. It’s not just “no means yes after the third try.” It’s not a knock-knock joke.

Onunchi, Ta’arof, and High-Context Societies

Tarof is best understood as high-context negotiation within deeply hierarchical and emotionally attuned societies; a kind of cultural Onunchi (온눈치), for those familiar with Korean sociolinguistics. It’s the art of reading the room before the room speaks. More than etiquette, Tarof is a performance of dignity through flattery, deferral, and intuition.

And that’s precisely what’s being lost; not just in Rainn’s version, but in the Westernisation of diasporic Persian culture more broadly.

Why Pakistan Is a Colonial Project & India a Civilizational One

July 11, 2025July 13, 2025X.T.MAncient India, BRAHM, Brown Pundits, Civilisation, Geopolitics, Hinduism, History, India, Pakistan, Partition, Postcolonialism & the Global South, Politics, X.T.MBengali elites, British Empire, civilizational politics, civilizational unity, Civilizations & Identity, colonial legacy, India, Mandala Zone, Mughals, Pakistan, Partition, postcolonial critique, South Asia, trans-dharmic world32 Comments

Over the past few months, I’ve noticed a marked improvement in the quality of conversation on BP. A large part of this, I suspect, is due to eliminating trigger-response dynamics; as seen when I barred Q on a technicality. It created space: suddenly, the commentariat was thinking, not reacting. In that quiet, something became obvious.

Whenever Kabir invokes “neutral experts,” they always seem to be Western, usually venerably white, often from institutions directly involved in the colonial rape of India. And yet these same voices are elevated as if they were impartial or above it all. They aren’t. They are the architects, not the observers. This is the paradox at the heart of Pakistan. Continue reading Why Pakistan Is a Colonial Project & India a Civilizational One

“Between Scripts, Beyond Borders: What It Means to Be a Punjabi Hindu-Sikh Sufi Poet in Urdu”

July 10, 2025July 10, 2025Manav SachdevaAncient India, BRAHM, Brown Pundits, Culture, Hinduism, History, Iran, Islam & the Middle East, Pakistan, Partition, Postcolonialism & the Global South, Politics, Race, Religionmaasoom shah, manav, manav sachdeva, manav sachdeva maasoom, sachdeva, sufi poetry, sufi's garland, sufism11 Comments

“Between Scripts, Beyond Borders: What It Means to Be a Punjabi Hindu-Sikh Sufi Poet in Urdu”
By Manav Sachdeva urf Maasoom Shah

What is my being as a Punjabi Hindu-Sikh writer of Sufi Poetry in Urdu while living between Ludhiana, New Delhi, and New York? What does it mean to me, mean for me, and mean to other people as they look at me with equal parts wonder and disdain as I embrace Farsi and Urdu as my own as did my ancestors prior to partition when Urdu was a language of our regions, as Javed Akhtar once said about language being of regions rather than religions?

To be a Punjabi Hindu-Sikh writing Sufi poetry in Urdu is to carry the weight of centuries in my breath and the burden of a border in my bones. It means returning to a home I never left—and was never allowed to fully claim.
It means that when I write in Nastaliq script or even Roman or Hindi script but in Urdu, or quote Hafiz or write in Naskh in Farsi, I am not converting, betraying, or straying. I am completing a circle. One my ancestors began long before Partition redrew maps and mistrust into the fabric of everyday language.
As Javed Akhtar once reminded us, “Languages belong to regions, not religions.” I write in Urdu not because I am Muslim though I don’t deny that label for myself either, but specifically, because I am Punjabi. Because I am from a land where Heer ran through the fields, where Bulleh Shah danced with defiance, where Shah Hussain stitched poetry into the shawls of the soul.

It means I am watched—sometimes with wonder, sometimes with suspicion. Some marvel at the fusion: the New York poet invoking Mir and Ghalib in Brooklyn cafés, speaking of ishq-e-haqiqi in the same breath as trauma therapy and diasporic longing. Others look on with narrowed eyes, asking—silently or aloud—“Whose side are you on?”

To that, I say: I am on the side of poetry. Of shared breath across centuries. Of the tongue that trembles with truth regardless of script. Of the language that fed my grandfather’s soul in Amritsar and now finds voice again in mine in Washington Square or Connaught Place.

It means I translate myself daily—between identities, continents, alphabets. Sometimes I write Mohabbat in Devnagari. Sometimes I whisper shukr where others expect dhanyavaad. I live between the ik onkar and the bismillah, between naan and bagel, between Sufi silences and the American chaos of self-invention.

And what does it mean for me? It means freedom. It means rebellion. It means healing.

It means to remember that before Urdu became politicized, it was loved. Before it was feared, it was sung. It was the shared heritage of Lahore and Ludhiana–the cities of my father’s and my birth, Delhi and Dera Ghazi Khan–cities of ancestry, further and present.

I do not ask permission to write in Urdu. I write to reclaim what was always mine.

And what might it mean to others?

Maybe discomfort. Maybe curiosity. Maybe a slow awakening to the lie that language must belong to creed. Maybe the beginning of a reckoning: that art refuses to stay in its box, that love poems don’t ask for passports, and that faith is sometimes just the belief that what was broken can be made whole.

So I will continue.

To write qawwalis and qasidas and sehras and ghazals and nazms in cafés. To quote Baba Farid beside Rumi. To live as a bridge—not between East and West, but between the false walls we’ve built within ourselves. And if some still look on with disdain, let them. I am writing in the voice of my ancestors.

And they are no longer silent.

If You Have a Side, You Don’t Care for the Other Side

July 8, 2025July 13, 2025X.T.MBahá’í, BRAHM, Brown Pundits, Culture, Hinduism, Iran, Islam & the Middle East, Partition, Postcolonialism & the Global South, Politics, X.T.MAmbani, Bahá’í, Brown Pundits, civilizational politics, cultural criticism, Culture and Politics, Dharavi, Elite Continuity, empathy, Global South, Hindu pluralism, Hinduism, hypocrisy, India, Indian Identity, Islam, monotheism, Muslim minority, neoliberalism, oligarchy, Pakistan, partisanship, Politics, reform, spiritual worldview, Taleb, tribalism, wealth inequality8 Comments

In a world increasingly defined by sides, partisanship often masquerades as empathy. Whether it’s Pakistanis performing concern for Indian liberalism, or Indians invoking the plight of Muslim minorities to score points against their ideological rivals, the truth is simple: if you already have a side, you’re not truly invested in the fate of the other.

This isn’t cynicism; it’s structure. Sides, by their nature, demand loyalty. And loyalty comes at the expense of dispassion. You can mourn injustice selectively, but don’t pretend it’s universalism. More often than not, tribalism puts on the mask of principle.

As a Bahá’í, I’ve been shaped by a millenarian vision that urges global unity; yet I’m also deeply influenced by Hindu pluralism and pagan elasticity. Nicholas Nassim Taleb once said the more pagan a mind, the more brilliant it might be (excellent article) because it can hold many contradictions without demanding resolution. That capaciousness allows one to see that not every question needs a single answer. Hinduism, with its deep pluralism, contrasts radically with Islam’s (and Judaism’s) uncompromising monotheism. And yet, these two traditions are bound together—enmeshed across centuries of history, thought, and blood. Their tension is real, but so is their shared life.

That’s the point: opposites don’t just coexist, they form a whole. But when we prescribe change for the “other side,” we ignore our own capacity for reform. It’s always easier to critique outward than to renovate inward. Especially in a world run by oligarchic elites and managed emotions, where empathy is choreographed and outrage monetized.

So no, the Dalit Muslims of Dharavi aren’t the problem. Nor are the marginalized Hindus of East UP and Biharis. The problem is that a single family can build a private skyscraper in Mumbai while the city gasps beneath it. It’s the system that rewards power accumulation, not its occasional victims, that should concern us.

I don’t offer neat solutions. Maybe it’s taxation. Maybe it’s redistribution. Maybe it’s noblesse oblige. But the first step is this: stop pretending your critique of the other side is altruism. It’s not. It’s strategy. And perhaps the more honest work begins at home—with your own side, your own people, your own self.

Let Hindus Decide for India

July 7, 2025July 13, 2025X.T.MBRAHM, Culture, Hinduism, India, Iran, Islam & the Middle East, Pakistan, Politics, X.T.MBangladesh, civilizational agency, civilizational continuity, civilizational politics, cultural sovereignty, Geopolitics, Hindu identity, Hindu majority, Hinduism, Hindutva, India, India’s future, Indian Identity, Indian nationalism, Indian pluralism, Islam, Kashmir, Muslim politics, national identity, Nehruvian legacy, Pakistan, Pakistan strategy, political Hinduism, Politics, South Asia, South Asian geopolitics118 Comments

There’s a quiet but persistent coalition, inside and outside India, that seems intent on denying Hindus the right to define their own future. It includes unreformed Islamists who refuse to reckon with modernity, English-speaking liberal elites still shadowboxing for Nehru, minorities with veto power but no stake in cohesion, and a chorus of Western (and increasingly Chinese) voices, eager to manage India’s trajectory from afar. What unites them? A shared discomfort with Hindu political consolidation.

Let’s be clear: Hindu identity is not a new construct. Whether you place its roots 3,000 or 5,000 years ago, it’s one of the world’s oldest living civilizational continuities. That identity has always been plural, regional, and evolving. But it has also always been there; visible in memory, ritual, geography, and language. Today, that identity is waking up to its political form. And it will not be put back to sleep.

Hindutva is not going anywhere. Nor is the Indian Union. Those who hoped Kashmir would stay outside this arc have already seen the direction of travel. Pakistan’s decision to opt out of Hindustan, and then build an identity against it, has led not to strength but to strategic stasis. Bangladesh, too, for all its cultural richness, now stands as a separate civilizational lane. And so we arrive at the core truth: Hinduism and India are coterminous.

This isn’t a call for exclusion. But it is a reminder that those who opted out do not get to dictate terms to those who stayed in. That includes foreign commentators and diasporic gatekeepers alike. There is a difference between pluralism and paralysis. There is a difference between nationalism and denial. And if majoritarianism is the anxiety; perhaps the deeper fear is that Hindus are no longer apologizing for being the majority. Let India decide. Let Hindus decide. Let the world, finally, learn to listen.

The Mughals Were Not an Indian Dynasty — They Were a Dynasty in India

June 29, 2025July 13, 2025X.T.MBRAHM, Culture, X.T.MAkbar, civilizational state, decolonizing history, foreign dynasties, Hindu-Muslim interaction, hybrid empires, Indian dynasties, Indian History, Indo-Islamic synthesis, Islamic empires, Islamic India, Mughal culture, Mughal dynasty, Persian influence, Persianate culture, Richard Eaton, Sanskritic tradition, Sher Shah Suri, South Asian identity, Turko-Mongol rule70 Comments

The Mughals were not an Indian dynasty in the civilizational sense. They were a dynasty in India — rooted in the Persianate ecumene that stretched from Anatolia to Bengal, but distinct from the indigenous Indic civilizational framework.

Richard Eaton’s India in the Persianate Age captures this well. The Mughal elite, like other Turko-Mongol polities across the Islamic world, operated through a tri-layered framework: Arabic religion, Persianate high culture, and Turko-Mongolian kingship. This pattern held from Egypt to Samarkand — and India was no exception.

But here’s the distinction: while in places like Iran, Central Asia, and even parts of Anatolia, the ruling elite and the subject populations often shared linguistic, religious, or cultural proximity, in India the Mughal court sat atop a society whose foundational worldview — Dharma, Sanskritic cosmology, ritual plurality — was wholly different.

Yes, the Mughals were cosmopolitan. Yes, Akbar attempted synthesis. But at their core, the Mughal dynasty retained its sense of separateness — not just politically, but civilizationally. Persian remained the language of court and culture, their aesthetics leaned West, and their ethos remained imperially aloof. Their legitimacy was not drawn from Indian sacred geography but from Turanic, Persian, and Islamic claims of kingship.

Contrast this with the Suri dynasty, which, despite being devoutly Muslim, left a remarkably grounded imprint. Sher Shah Suri ruled in Hindavi. His administrative and infrastructural legacy felt local, even national. In some ways, paradoxically, he felt more Indian than the Mughals did.

This isn’t about Islam being foreign to India. Islam has deep roots in the subcontinent — from Kerala to Bengal to Kashmir. It has been deeply indigenized across regions. But when Islam arrives twinned with Persianate high culture, it becomes something else: a hybrid elite formation, distinct both from Sanskritic Hinduism and from vernacular Islam.

The British Raj, too, was alien — but ironically, its later administrators localized many elements of their rule. The Mughals, by contrast, represented a more refined foreignness: imperial, hybrid, and between worlds.

It’s telling that the most influential women of the Mughal court—Noor Jahan, Mumtaz Mahal, and Hamida Banu Begum—were all of Persian origin. They wielded real power: issuing firmans, shaping court politics, commissioning architecture. In contrast, the Hindu-indigenous consorts—Jodha Bai, Anarkali, even Aurangzeb’s Hindu Rajput lover—were celebrated in romance, not governance. They were symbols, not strategists. Influence, in the Mughal world, came not with local integration but with Persian pedigree. That, in itself, says a great deal.

So no — the Mughals were not an Indian dynasty. They were a dynasty in India. That distinction matters.

Zohran Mamdani and the Question of Civilizational Belonging

June 29, 2025July 13, 2025X.T.MBRAHM, Culture, Politics, X.T.MBollywood politics, civilizational identity, civilizational politics, Cultural Assimilation, cultural markers, Culture and Politics, Dharma, Diaspora, Hindu ethos, Hindu-Muslim dynamics, identity politics, Indian culture, Indian Identity, Indian-American politics, Indic civilization, Islam and India, Israel comparison, Mira Nair, post-Partition India, Progressive Politics, South Asian diaspora, Zohran Mamdani47 Comments

Kabir:

I would question how one defines “Indian” culture vs “Hindu” culture (this is a real question, I’m not being snarky). Zohran speaks Urdu/Hindi, wears shalwar kameez and uses Bollywood references in his campaign. So clearly, he has no issues with Indian culture. He’s not a Hindu so he doesn’t go to temples etc. I’m not sure exactly what you expect him to do?

While Zohran Mamdani expresses outward familiarity with “Indian” culture — speaking Hindi/Urdu, referencing Bollywood, wearing traditional attire — these are surface markers. They do not, on their own, constitute rootedness in Indian civilizational identity. Indian culture, especially post-Partition, is not simply a composite of languages and aesthetics. It is anchored in Dharma — a diffuse but pervasive civilisational ethos shaped over millennia by Hindu, Buddhist, Sikh and Jain worldviews.

Despite being born to a Hindu mother, Zohran’s public identity is strongly framed within a Muslim, Middle Eastern, and postcolonial activist context. His political and cultural instincts appear more aligned with pan-Islamic and Western progressive causes than with any articulation of Indian philosophical or spiritual heritage. His Syrian Muslim spouse, activist framing, and lack of visible engagement with Indic traditions contribute to this perception.

This is not a religious critique but a civilizational one. Just as Israel defines its national identity through a broadly Jewish character — irrespective of belief — India’s cultural self-understanding is inseparable from its Hindu roots. To be Indian, in this view, is not to perform cultural familiarity but to resonate with the metaphysical and historical rhythms of the civilization.

By that measure, Zohran — despite South Asian ancestry — does not code as civilizationally Indian, but rather as an American progressive of South Asian Muslim extraction. The distinction is subtle but important.

🕊️ On Iran, Israel, and the Right to Self-Defense

June 18, 2025July 13, 2025X.T.MBRAHM, Geopolitics, Iran, Islam & the Middle East, Partition, Postcolonialism & the Global South, Politics, Religion, X.T.MBaháʼí Faith, BRAHM letters, Gaza, Geopolitics, International Law, Iran, Iran-Israel conflict, Israel, Middle East, Middle East escalation, Netanyahu, Peace, peace and dignity, Religion and Politics, Reza Pahlavi, rules-based order, sovereignty, Tehran, unilateral warfare, World War lessons, Zan Zendegi Azadi26 Comments

Why loving Israel, believing in peace, and opposing regimes means defending Iran’s right not to be bombed.

Dear Friends,

I don’t usually write about politics. And when I do, I try to centre peace — not provocation.

Anyone who knows me knows I have always believed in the dignity of Israel, the rights of Palestinians, and the intertwined destinies of both peoples. I love Israel. I love Iran. I believe in Palestine. I believe in peace. And I believe that each nation — each people — has a right to their own story, their own future, and yes, their own defense.

Which is why I write today, with care and some sorrow, in response to the recent Israeli strikes on Iran’s nuclear facilities. Let me be clear: I oppose the Iranian regime. Vehemently. I stand with the brave women and men who chanted “Zan, Zendegi, Azadi” — women, life, freedom. But I cannot condone this unprovoked assault.

Read the rest at this link and please subscribe to my newsletter.