“Yeh Lucknow University ka campus hai janaab, yahan baat abhi bhi adab se ki jaati hai.”
Lucknow ,famous for its tehzeeb in every sense of the word. Whether it is the gentle insistence of “pehle aap” or the warmth of its khatirdari, the city carries a reputation for politeness that goes beyond language and settles into everyday behaviour. Being a Lucknowi, I feel a quiet pride in this soft-spoken way of communicating ,one that is learned slowly, practiced daily, and rarely announced loudly.
It makes me wonder: what do we love listening to more “aap” or “tu”?
To me, both words carry their own warmth. When someone addresses you as “aap” a senior, a stranger, or even a street vendor it instantly creates a sense of respect, an unspoken invitation to continue the conversation and in return, you want to speak with the same gentleness. It quietly teaches you adab, not through rules, but through example.
At the same time, “tu” has a closeness of its own. When it comes from someone dear ,a close friend or a favourite person,it feels familiar and reassuring. It brings with it a sense of ease. In that space, “tu” does not feel disrespectful; it feels earned. The problem arises when familiarity is assumed too quickly. Imagine a stranger calling you “tu” while asking for directions to Kapoorthala. For many of us in Lucknow, that sudden closeness would feel unsettling, even offensive.
This gentle courtesy is easy to notice on the Lucknow University campus as well. I have often found my batchmates addressing me as “aap” while asking for notes or help. There is a quiet hesitation in using “tum” when meeting someone for the first time. We seem to prefer getting to know each other slowly,keeping conversations respectful and at a surface level, leaving space for comfort to grow on its own.
Even in society meetings or group discussions, there is a noticeable effort to address one another politely.
Students who come from different towns or cities to study in our university gradually fall into this rhythm. Sometimes it is a conscious adjustment; sometimes it happens naturally. After spending time with Lucknowi friends, they too begin to pick up the language, the pauses, and the gentle tone that defines Lucknow ka adab.
In contrast, phrases like “tu rehne de” often feel abrupt,dismissive rather than calming. Lucknow offers an alternative that feels kinder: “rehne dijiye, koi baat nahi.” The message may be the same, but the intent feels different. One shuts the conversation down; the other closes it with grace.
“Maaf kijiyega, agar bura lage” but I will always choose the latter. Because in Lucknow, even disagreement is wrapped in dignity and that, perhaps, is its greatest lesson.