On a foggy Delhi morning, Municipal Corporation of Delhi (MCD) school staff begin lining up students for assembly. The primary school is nestled in the bylanes of Old Delhi, the walled city of the capital. With over 100 children, the open space is so small that when they are asked to spread their arms, they get in each other’s way. Housed in a mansion abandoned during Partition, this Urdu-medium school caters to children who live in the nearby crowded streets. This school, like many other schools, was started in the 1960s.
Immediately after the assembly conducted in Hindi, students from Nursery to Class 2 are taken to the classroom. Three vacant classrooms remain locked. Children from classes 3 to 5 take their places on benches in front of the blackboard in three rows in the arched hallway outside the classroom. Some run here and there. Others are chatting, distracted by the noise emanating from the adjacent classroom. The school has an enrollment of 120 students, of which 90 are boys and 30 are girls.
Arman (name changed to protect confidentiality), who has been appointed as a teacher for children with special needs (CWSN), has been conducting classes for the entire school throughout the day. The only other teacher is out on administrative work. There are only two CWSN students in the school, but Arman moves between the hallway and the classroom, assigning work to different groups. He chooses a chapter on ‘Family’.
He says, “On days like this, or days when attendance is good, I choose a lesson that everyone can follow.” “Senior students have studied it before, but they repeat.” After assigning the lesson on the board, he steps into the classroom to help the younger students form the letters in their books. He comes back into the hallway and calls out the roll number to mark attendance.
Such scenes unfold daily in MCD-run Urdu-medium primary schools, which serve as the first point of formal education for children in Old Delhi, Shahdara and several densely populated areas of Central Delhi. The medium of instruction in 40 of the 1,185 primary schools run by the civic body across the capital is Urdu, meaning science, mathematics and social studies are taught in the language.
According to MCD data, more than 6.4 lakh children in the age group of 3 to 11 years study in MCD schools. Of these, more than 15,000 children, including 275 children with special needs, are enrolled in Urdu-medium primary schools. These schools follow the National Council of Educational Research and Training (NCERT) framework, and are neither madrassas nor minority schools.
During a visit to more than a dozen such schools, The HinduWith student enrollment declining rapidly over the past few years, a recurring pattern of understaffed classrooms has been found, especially at institutions with only two or three teachers. Between 2009 and 2024, only 48 Urdu teachers were appointed under the specific recruitment drive. Many people have retired.
kids ask for more
An 11-year-old class 5 student is sitting in the front row. Irfan (name changed) says that he wishes that classes should be taken separately. ” make a lot of noise“(They make a lot of noise), he says, referring to small children.
After Irfan completes primary school, he will be shifted to a Delhi government Urdu-medium school from Class 6 onwards. But asks his parents to transfer him to an English medium school. Irfan says, “It will be better for studies.”
Teachers say Urdu-medium schools run by the Delhi government do not face the same level of neglect. They emphasize that unlike MCD schools, which operate only at the primary level, Delhi government schools are under the Directorate of Education (DOE) from primary to senior secondary. “Once students (in MCD schools) complete Class 5, they move to DOE or aided schools, which are in better conditions,” says a teacher.
Sitting next to Irfan is Sana (name changed), another Class 5 student, whose younger brother studies with her in Class 3. Sana wants to become a doctor and her sister wants to become a teacher. “Our teachers are good, but it would be good if the classes were separated,” she says. Mathematics is her favorite subject, but, “At home, there is no one to help me study. I have to work hard.” This year, Sana will go to nearby government school in Lambi Gali, where her elder brother tells her, “They have different teachers for different classes.”
She recalls that in 2024, for a few months, when one of the two teachers went on maternity leave, two additional teachers were temporarily deployed to the school. “Students of classes 3 and 4 were then seated separately. Teaching was better.” The students mistake an unknown adult on campus for their new teacher.
An Urdu teacher at an MCD-run school in Old Delhi. | Photo Credit: RV Murthy
parental concerns
In parts of Old Delhi and Shahdara, Urdu-medium MCD schools are located in the neighbourhood, often within a short walking distance for children. For families where the burden of child care falls primarily on women, that proximity shapes their choice of school.
Ayesha Begum, 28, a parent of two children studying in Class 3 at the Old Delhi school, said she was unhappy with the quality of education, but had no option. “It’s the nearest school, 15 minutes away from our house,” she says. “There aren’t enough teachers here. Children keep playing even during class hours. Sometimes I feel I can teach them better at home.”
Conversations with parents return to familiar concerns: classes without enough teachers, lessons slipping between languages. Begum says that the textbooks are in Urdu, but the worksheets come only in Hindi. She adds, “Translating at home becomes difficult. The child is neither learning Hindi nor Urdu properly.” Officials attribute this to the lack of staff to translate the material.
Another group of parents say that if they could afford it, they would send their children to privately run English-medium schools. Only 134 MCD schools are English medium, most of the rest operate in Hindi.
But for families living in dense, predominantly Urdu-speaking areas, these schools remain the most accessible option. “Our worksheets are also bilingual. In Hindi-medium schools, English is taught as a second language, while in Urdu-medium schools, Hindi is taught as a second language,” says an official.
However, some parents want their children’s schooling to be in Urdu, the language spoken at home. A parent, who requested anonymity, says, “In the increasingly polarized environment in India, as a minority, I do not want my children to lose touch with their language and its script.” Parents say Urdu studies should continue even if other subjects are taken in Hindi or English.
teacher trouble
In Old Delhi, as morning dawns, Arman says not all students are coming to school as classes are now in hybrid mode due to pollution-induced Graded Response Action Plan (GRAP) measures. He sends the day’s worksheet on a WhatsApp group with parents. There are no online classes. “We manage somehow,” says Arman. “But managing is not the same as teaching the way children should be taught.”
He joined the school in 2023, and travels from north-west Delhi every day. On regular days, he makes a division on the board and teaches two subjects together. He further said, “We have written to the (education) department highlighting the vacancies in our school, but we get a reply saying that if teachers are sent here, other schools will face shortage.”
As per recruitment rules, primary teachers are required to study Hindi and English at least up to secondary or senior secondary level. An official says they try and ensure that for Urdu-medium schools, teachers have studied Urdu till Class 10, but it is not mandatory in the recruitment rules amended and notified in 2011.
According to data shared by MCD officials, out of 410 teachers in Urdu-medium schools – 370 regular and 40 special teachers – only 234 had Urdu as a subject till Class 10. “We have adequate number of Urdu teachers, but some schools are overstaffed and some are understaffed,” says an MCD official. “So the distribution remains unequal.”
The Right to Education Act, 2009, mandates a student-teacher ratio of 40:1 for schools with more than 200 students. While the number of MCD officers increases, there is a shortage of teachers in Arman’s school.
In another school in Old Delhi, the nursery section alone has 97 students, managed by a single teacher. Noor (name changed), a teacher, comes to school frequently even when unwell, and is worried about leaving her students unattended. “With so few teachers, we can’t afford to walk away. It’s already difficult to give equal attention to every child,” she says.
Schools in Najafgarh, Rohini and Narela have more staff, while schools in congested areas of Old Delhi, parts of Shahdara and Okhla function with two or three teachers. MCD officials say many teachers, especially those from Delhi rural and areas of Haryana and Uttar Pradesh bordering Delhi, demand transfer when posted in these schools.
stuck in intimewarp
In the City SP zone, of which Old Delhi is a part, most of the 15 Urdu-medium schools operate in old havelis or rented structures, which never had many classrooms.
Local representatives say that this issue has been raised repeatedly. In Sitaram Bazaar ward of the city SP zone, Aam Aadmi Party councilor Rafia Mahir points to the weakening network of Urdu-medium schools – 6 out of 11 in the area were slated to be closed before 2022 due to low enrollment and building concerns. She talks about letters sent over three years. “I am pushing to rebuild and reopen at least two schools,” she says.
A building built a decade ago in the Razia Begum area is one of those she hopes to revive. She suggests adopting English as the medium with Urdu as a compulsory subject.
MCD officials say new schools cannot be opened without the approval of the Delhi government and any decision to convert or close Urdu-medium schools requires the approval of the MCD House. “We cannot simply eliminate Urdu-medium education in areas where people still want it,” says an official. “The National Education Policy talks about multilingual education. The challenge is implementation.”
At a school in Okhla, wet spots from the last monsoon still stick to the ceiling, the paint peeling off in thin layers. In another school in Old Delhi, parts of a building have been cordoned off after a leak spread on the roof.
“We now run all classes from nursery to Class 5 in fewer rooms. Even the principal takes classes from her cabin. This is how we manage at the moment,” says the teacher in charge.
Suruchi.kumari@thehindu.co.in
