There was a time when Urdu was the language of royalty. Its poets were not only patronized by kings but also adored by general populace. Advent of British and onset of decadence in the Mughal empire triggered the downfall of Urdu from its position of grace as Hindi and English picked up scorching pace. Even then the rapidity of decline has been monumental. Just consider that not so long ago Bhagat singh was writing his seminal letters in Urdu while Nehru's wedding invitation was in Urdu too.
Two characters caught in this downward spiral are Deven and Nur around whom this novel revolves. Their love of Urdu is pure though mistimed. This love for language and poetry helps them float through their woolly-headed ragtag cloudy rumbling existence but doesn't aid them in making a dignified living.
You can't help but feel for these two individuals with their romantic and enfeebled attachment to Urdu. They know they won't get anything out of this love yet they can't help getting sucked in. The father son moments between Deven's father/Deven and Deven/his son have a charming warmth about them.