14 November 2025 at 12:18 PM IST
First published on: 14 November 2025 at 12:18 PM IST
For many years, social media has been mesmerized by an extraordinary presence: a petite elderly lady with short gray hair, speaking in charming Urdu. Her speech was clear, her words measured, and she spoke of the beauty of language and our complex culture, of human dignity and compassion, of women’s rights, in ways few had heard before. Her name was Arfa Syeda Zahra, and she passed away in Lahore on Monday, leaving behind a legacy that will last beyond her years.
Arfa Aba, as I (and many others) called her, was a rare breed – the last generation to embody the best of our shared cultural heritage. I remember years ago having a conversation with her at a literary festival. At some point in our discussion, I asked her to answer a basic question: What is Urdu? She paused for a moment, and said with a twinkle in her eye as if she were about to let me in on a secret: “sword Mian, Urdu It is not just a language, it is a perfect polite name. (Urdu is not just a language, it is an entire culture)“. Complete culture is not just talk, it is a living experience, the sum of the way one lives, thinks, feels, and moves in the world; This is the perfection she has dedicated her entire life to protecting. This conviction was evident in almost every statement she made, often in a humorous manner. Regarding the impossibility of translating the cultural experience, she used to say: “Kofta I didn’t have any fun Meatballs I’m there, I can’t. (The joy of kofta cannot be experienced with meatballs).”
There are certain words in Urdu that have no equivalents in English; Among them Good manners and Clearance. The word Good manners It has been variously translated as “etiquette” or “polite manners.” Clearance Such as “honesty” or “honesty,” but none of these convey the essence of the original even remotely. while Clearance It also manifests an essential element of love and warmth, Good manners It entails a certain permanent attachment to the social values of the individual. Orpah Appa embodied both and insisted that they were the bedrock of human interaction. I met her once at Karachi airport. She waited until I was safely settled in my hostess’s car, insisted on paying the doorman herself, and gently reminded me that not only was I a guest, but she was mine as well. Bad man.
For Orpah Apa, language and personality were inextricably intertwined, and the refinement of speech reflected the refinement of the self. She warned repeatedly: The face of moral rebellion has become very frightening. (Without morality, religion has a terrifying face.) This was a principle she followed and protected with tremendous grace. At one event at the Karachi Literary Festival, a well-known British-Pakistani writer complained that “loving” workers around the world were “lazy and useless.” Arfa Abba tore through his speech without being objectionable, showing her listeners that dissent and civility are not mutually exclusive.
As an orator, Appa of the Four stood out like no other. Essence Lahori, the speech embodies Lucknowi elegance RefinementHer accounts of her encounter during her short stay in the city became legendary. The audience implores her to repeat it the way children ask for their favorite bedtime stories. And each time, with her sarcastic sense of humour, she gently poked fun at her own irreverent rudeness against the famous refinement of Lucknow. A self-deprecating sense of humor was an integral part of her personality. When Zarmina Ansari, founder of Joy of Urdu, asked her to suggest a name for her online poetry master class, she called them Moayad Arafa and Zarmina (“The Stupidity of Orfa and Zerminai”). The irreverently titled chapters have been shown to be a transformative pedagogical success.
A relentless advocate for women’s rights, Arafa Aba was a courageous critic of the authoritarian regimes that shaped her homeland’s political landscape. She referred to General Zia-ul-Haq as an abstraction lovable (“My Love”), reminding her people that humor can open deeper wounds than anger. She is a former professor of history and principal of Lahore College, Women’s University, and has served as special advisor to the prime minister on education and national harmony, chairperson of the National Commission for Women, and interim provincial minister. Through these influential roles, her contributions to public policy and civil society have been guided by the same ethical framework that has characterized her mission throughout her life: a resolute commitment to justice, human dignity, and the primacy of dialogue. Above all, she was a thinker who married tradition and criticism, insisting that culture was not a static legacy, but a dynamic territory. In an age of disappearing grace, she embodied values that we are at risk of losing.
The recordings will be available to play, and the quotes will be available to publish, but the true tribute to Arafat Apa will be to emulate her beliefs. Speak knowing that your words can hurt and heal. Stand with the weak. When language fails, accept what cannot be translated: call kofta kofta and allow it to maintain its status. men.
The writer is an international lawyer based in London, an Advocate of the Supreme Court of India, an author, and a visiting academic at the University of Oxford, UK.
(Tags for translation)Arfa Zahra
