India, Dec. 14 -- The past week as the capital of Delhi was on a linguistic high with the grand celebration of the "Jashn-e-Rekhta Festival", which is the largest celebration of Urdu language and culture, tricity too brought a short but endearing date with Urdu language and literature at the Haryana Sahitya Akademi, headed by a much revered poet Chandr Trikha, and a fine dialogue curated by the Akademi editor Jatinder Parwaz. One of the finest couplets written in honour of Urdu as a language of the skilled is: 'Nahi khel ai Daagh yeh yaron se keh do/ Ki aati hai Urdu zaban aate aate'. Here the celebrated poet Daagh Dehli says that such is the finesse of Urdu that it takes time to learn it. The grace of the language has been celebrated immensely in poetry and prose alike. Famous author and columnist held that it was language of love saying "If you want to fall in love learn Urdu" and vice-versa that "If you want to learn Urdu then fall in love". Seminar was a celebration of the linguistic ties between Urdu and Punjabi. It was indeed a fine remembrance of the evolution of Urdu in its homeland of united Punjab in the 11th to 12th century. Interestingly it originated in the army camps where soldiers from the sub-continent with the local north Indian languages, around Lahore, got mixed with Persian,Turkish and Arabic with the Ghaznavi conquest. The word Urdu itself emerged from the Turkish word "Ordu", meaning the "army camp" when it became the court language. The merry mix began in the Punjab but it came to glory in the courts of Delhi and Deccan and going onto touch glorious heights in the poetry of immortal poets, including Mir Taki Mir, Mirza Ghalib, Ustad Zauq and many others till the present times taking on many names like Hindi, Hindavi, Rekhta, Hindustani, Dakhini and even Urdu-e-Mullah! Give it any other name but it became the cherished language of poets and writers across religions. This is so because poetry and literature represent culture and not religion. Yet there are those who choose to see it otherwise, more so in the present times. The finest rejoinder to this comes from Urdu poet and film script writer Javed Akhtar who says "Who says Urdu is not an original Indian language and adds that it is pure Hindustani and is spoken only in Hindustan and Pakistan which was not too long ago a part of Hindustan. Even in diaspora people, who went from India and Pakistan. It is not spoken in Kazakhstan, Persia or Saudi Arabia for that matter!" Lo! Well said Javed Sahib! Language, as it is said , communicates culture and not religion. The Haryana Sahitya Akademi, headed by well known literature and poet Khander Trikha, took it upon itself to hold a seminar and a lively dialogue on the "Linguistic Relations between Punjabi and Urdu" which was curated with thought and care to dismiss all the misgivings that are often created to polarise people. Among the scholars who spoke of this very inclusive and relevant topic were Madhav Koshis, president of Sahitya Akademi, New Delhi, poet and author Manmohan Singh and Rubina, a doctorate in Urdu literature and a professor of the language in Malerkotla. The highlight of the evening was a dialogue on Urdu poet whose hometown was Ludhiana. No, one is not talking about Shair Ludhianvi, but a close friend of his named Krishan Adeeb, who worked for long years as photographer in Ludhiana Agricultural University. He was a star in his times with his ghazals sung by well known singers including Jagjit Singh and one is reminded of the lyrics penned by him "Jab bhi aati hai teri yaad kabhi shaam ke baad, aur barh jaati hai afsurda dili shaam ke baad" ( Whenever I remember you post sundown, the sorrow of my heart rises after sundown). A lookback of the contribution of this Punjabi poet of Urdu was done soulfully by Dr Bhupinder Azeez Pariahar, a conscientious scholar and professor of Urdu. It took me back to the late seventies when I created the post of a cultural reporter for myself in the newspaper and villy-nilly stuck to it for a lifetime. Those were the times of poetry extravaganza with regular mushairas, Kavi darbars. Poets those days were not just meant to be read but to be heard in large assemblies and the one who gathered greatest applause was mentioned as the one who had stolen the "mushaira" or praised as the one "jo mushaira loot ke le gaya". Well those were times when poet of verses were considered as worthy as gold, if not more, and thus worth stealing! It was this self created beat that gave me acquaintance with many, including the poet of the city, Kumar Vikal, the primadona of Punjabi poetry, Amrita Pritam, great novelist Gurdial Singh, story teller par excellence Kulwant Singh Virk and so many others. Interestingly, my acquaintance with Adeeb mentioned above has a very interesting story. Vikal would often advise me on who to interview or meet and I benefited a lot by having as a "source", a common journalistic term', one of the most cherished revolutionary poets as a guide! So one day I got a call from him at the office that I should reach the Tagore Theatre in the evening as his friend Adeeb was participating in a mushaira there. So I did, with my elder brother, also a friend of Vikal, as a chaperone and we reached the wings of the stage and made a request. Soon we were guided into the green room face-to-face with the tall lean and handsome poet slipping from a glass of whiskey. When I told him that I had come to interview him, his reply was: "Welcome but I do not talk to my daughters after drinking whisky so come to my home in Ludhiana, and sit amid my family and I will talk to you". So it was to be and a close bond that existed till I finally wrote his obit many years later titled "Death of a poet". Such are the memories of the swinging 70s that one carries still! One closes with a few lines of a poem by Adeeb of the stuff dreams are made of: "Yeh hasin khayal mere zehan ke ziddi bache bina booche hi mere ghar se nikal jaate hain..." (These beautiful thoughts are the stubborn kids of my mind who leave the home sans my permission)....