raditionally, Hindustani classical music has been much more closely tied to the natural landscape of northern India than Urdu poetry. For example, there are ragas associated with different seasons. These belong to our own musical tradition and are not borrowed, like much of Urdu poetry, from Persian literary conventions.

Unfortunately, the Persian poetry written in the subcontinent has become increasingly unfamiliar to us because we have neglected the vast body of literature that survives in that language. It is often only when an Iranian dignitary visits Iqbal’s tomb that we remember he also wrote in Persian.

In Iran, Persian poetry written in the subcontinent was recognised as Sabk-i-Hindi and distinguished from Persian poetry written there. Many of the musical instruments mentioned in Urdu poetry were played not in this region but in the Persian world.

Many attempts have been made to give Urdu poetry a more local idiom. Nazir Akbarabadi was among the first to move in that direction. Later poets continued the effort, particularly after the Partition of 1947. Modern poetry also introduced metaphors drawn from local life instead of relying entirely on Persian and Arabic traditions.

Music, however, adapted to the local landscape much more naturally. Though Hindustani classical music grew into a highly developed classical tradition, its roots remained local. Much of the history of dhrupad has been lost, but the khayal repertoire preserves the speech of everyday life. Its bandishes were composed in Braj Bhasha, Dakhani, Poorbi, Haryanvi, Punjabi and, later, Sindhi.

This supports the view that classical music gradually grew out of the folk traditions of the region. Over time, these developed into the asthai and antara that have been sung across northern India for more than 300 years, while continuing to reflect the flavour of local speech.

The seasons occupy a central place in classical music. Barsaat, barkha rut and sawan appear far more often than they do in mainstream Urdu poetry. In Punjabi and Sindhi, these images carry the scent of the local landscape in an immediately recognisable way.

We have grown up with these traditions and rarely stop to think about where they came from. To someone from outside the region, however, their many sources are easy to see. Diverse traditions have enriched our imagination and shaped our expression. They should be understood not through exclusion, but through inclusion.

The writer is a culture critic based in Lahore.