The Press that Transformed a Nation: Newal Kishore Press in Colonial India

Le Press Estd. 1858

In the mid-19th century, as the dust settled after the great uprising of 1857, a quiet revolution was taking shape in the bylanes of Lucknow. Amid the clatter of printing machines and the aroma of fresh ink, Munshi Newal Kishore – often called the “Caxton of India” – was launching a venture that would revolutionize print media in colonial India (Munshi Nawal Kishore « TORNOS – India). His Newal Kishore Press, established in 1858, did more than just print books; it unearthed lost epics, preserved fading traditions, and gave voice to a society in churn. This narrative journeys through the Press’s iconic publications – from the pioneering newspaper Avadh Akhbar to the literary magazine Madhuri and even a mystical weekly called Tilism – revealing how they shaped public discourse, bridged cultures, and sparked a literary renaissance.

A New Dawn in Lucknow’s Print Culture (1858)

In November 1858, only a year after mutiny and mayhem had rocked Awadh, Newal Kishore opened the doors of his printing press (Munshi Nawal Kishore « TORNOS – India). It was the first Indian-owned press in Lucknow’s post-rebellion era, heralding “a new era of the mass-produced book” for both Hindus and Muslims (Munshi Nawal Kishore « TORNOS – India). Kishore was just 22, brimming with entrepreneurial energy and a passion for knowledge. He had cut his teeth at Agra’s Koh-i-Noor Press and saw first-hand how powerful the printed word could be (Nawal Kishore Press - Wikipedia). Now in Lucknow, he leveraged the latest printing technology and savvy marketing to make literature and learning accessible to all (Nawal Kishore Press - Wikipedia) (Munshi Nawal Kishore « TORNOS – India).

Early on, the Press printed books in multiple languages – Sanskrit, Arabic, Persian, Hindi, Urdu – covering everything from religion and philosophy to science and law (Nawal Kishore Press - Wikipedia). By doing so, it became a rare bridge between India’s diverse knowledge traditions. Scholars marveled as rare manuscripts of Hindu and Islamic lore that had languished in obscurity were suddenly available in affordable print (Munshi Nawal Kishore « TORNOS – India). Newal Kishore had a devout respect for both cultures: famously, he even required his Hindu workers to perform ritual ablutions before binding copies of the Qur’an, a gesture that earned him deep respect among Muslim intellectuals (Munshi Newal Kishore: Munshi Newal Kishore: Contribution at Koshala Literary Festival | Lucknow News - Times of India) (Munshi Newal Kishore: Munshi Newal Kishore: Contribution at Koshala Literary Festival | Lucknow News - Times of India). His press turned into a confluence of Indo-Islamic and Hindu thought, churning out editions of Sanskrit Puranas in Hindi, Persian mystical poems, Unani medical treatises, Urdu love stories – you name it. As one account notes, the Nawal Kishore Press “played an instrumental role in promoting literature,” preserving Islamic texts and Urdu-Persian storytelling traditions while also translating Sanskrit works and popularizing Hindi retellings of the epics (Nawal Kishore Press - Wikipedia).

Yet, just as Newal Kishore’s venture took off, it’s worth remembering those who attempted similar feats before him. In fact, a few months before the Press opened, an Urdu weekly newspaper called Tilism Lucknow (meaning “enchantment”) was being run out of old Firangi Mahal. Every Friday in the spring of 1857, Tilism published something rather extraordinary – a serialized report of the first-ever census of Lucknow city (Full text of "Images Of Lucknow"). Readers were enthralled by this parade of population figures and neighborhood data, a completely new use of journalism for public knowledge. Sadly, Tilism did not survive the upheaval of 1857. But its brief run proved how hungry the public was for information, and Newal Kishore would soon pick up that mantle. With the founding of Newal Kishore Press in 1858, Lucknow’s printing scene was reborn on a grand scale (Munshi Nawal Kishore « TORNOS – India). It was time to feed that hunger – with news, with stories, with ideas – and the Press’s first great offering was about to make history.

Avadh Akhbar: The Voice of Awadh and Beyond

(image) Front page of Oudh Akhbar (Avadh Akhbar), 1st January 1875. The weekly newspaper’s ornate masthead depicts Lucknow’s famed Chattar Manzil palace, reflecting its pride in Awadh’s heritage.

In 1858, Newal Kishore’s Press launched Avadh Akhbar (also spelled Oudh Akhbar) – an unassuming weekly that would blossom into the most popular Urdu newspaper of its time (Avadh Akhbar - Wikipedia). At a time when newspapers were a novelty in North India, Avadh Akhbar became a trailblazer. It started as a humble four-page weekly, but its reputation for reliable news and enlightened commentary caused demand to skyrocket. By the 1860s it had expanded to a 16-page semiweekly, and in 1877 it made history as the first Urdu newspaper to be published daily in northern India (Avadh Akhbar - Wikipedia) (Microsoft Word - 9-Ulrike Stark). Suddenly, readers could count on fresh news every morning – an innovation so successful that for a decade Avadh Akhbar had no serious rivals, until Lahore’s Paisa Akhbar emulated the concept of a low-priced daily in 1887 (Microsoft Word - 9-Ulrike Stark).

What made Avadh Akhbar such a sensation? For one, it was remarkably eclectic in content. Its pages carried a lively mix of politics, social issues, and literature (Avadh Akhbar - Wikipedia). A village elder in Punjab, a clerk in Delhi, or a poet in Lucknow – all could find something of interest. Local happenings in Lucknow sat next to dispatches from London and Constantinople. By the late 1870s, as imperial powers clashed abroad, Avadh Akhbar kept Indian readers riveted with reports on the Russo-Turkish War and the Second Anglo-Afghan War, even printing detailed maps and a special column of “latest news from the battlefield” to satisfy the curiosity of its audience (Avadh Akhbar - Wikipedia). Such coverage was especially electrifying for North Indian Muslims, who followed the Ottoman Empire’s struggles with intense interest. Never before had an Indian paper so comprehensively connected its readers to global events.

Crucially, Avadh Akhbar wasn’t just a news rag – it was also a platform for literary innovation. In 1878 it began serializing a sprawling Urdu novel, Fasana-e-Azad, penned by one of its own editors, Ratan Nath Dar “Sarshar.” Week after week, readers waited eagerly for the next installment of this witty social satire. It was the first time an Urdu novel was published in serial form (Avadh Akhbar - Wikipedia), and it set off a trend of serial storytelling in newspapers. One can imagine the scene in a Lucknowi café: a group of friends passing around the latest Avadh Akhbar, laughing at the exploits of Sarshar’s characters, discussing the plot’s twists – truly, a shared cultural experience born from the press. The newspaper’s blend of news and literature blurred the line between a journal and a magazine, expanding the very idea of what journalism could be.

As the decades passed, Avadh Akhbar grew to embody the conscience of its community. It championed social reforms and wasn’t afraid to criticize authority. Remarkably, as early as 1875 – a full generation before the Indian National Congress – Avadh Akhbar’s editorials were daring to articulate nationalist sentiments. On April 11, 1875, Munshi Newal Kishore himself wrote in its pages that “Independence is our birthright” (Munshi Newal Kishore: Munshi Newal Kishore: Contribution at Koshala Literary Festival | Lucknow News - Times of India) – a radical clarion call in an era when open dissent against the Raj was dangerous. The paper also took up the causes of the oppressed. It exposed the excesses of local princes who cozied up to the British (Munshi Newal Kishore: Munshi Newal Kishore: Contribution at Koshala Literary Festival | Lucknow News - Times of India), and in the 1920s it boldly published the court proceedings of the Kakori Conspiracy case, along with the defiant prison poetry of revolutionaries like Ashfaqullah Khan (Munshi Newal Kishore: Munshi Newal Kishore: Contribution at Koshala Literary Festival | Lucknow News - Times of India). Through such actions, Avadh Akhbar became far more than a chronicle of news; it was the voice of a nascent public opinion. It gave its diverse readership – from commoners in Lucknow to villagers across North India – a sense of shared awareness and even political agency. Little wonder that the paper was read widely across the subcontinent, from Delhi to Hyderabad and Lahore to Calcutta (Microsoft Word - 9-Ulrike Stark), knitting together an Urdu public sphere that transcended province and creed.

By the time Avadh Akhbar finally closed (around 1950, after nearly a century in print (Microsoft Word - 9-Ulrike Stark)), it had long cemented its legacy. It proved that an Indian-run newspaper could achieve both mass appeal and high standards, turning a profit while also “setting a precedent for journalistic excellence” (Newal Kishore Press Museum write up.docx). It trained a generation of Urdu journalists and editors. And it showed the colonial establishment that Indians were not passive subjects but an informed populace, engaging with world affairs and voicing their dreams and dissatisfactions in print. In short, Avadh Akhbar was the beating heart of public discourse in its era – a newspaper that not only reported history, but helped to shape it.

Preserving Legends: Dastans, Tilisms, and the Indo-Islamic Imagination

Even as Avadh Akhbar was making headlines, the Newal Kishore Press was busy rescuing India’s literary heritage from the ravages of time. Munshi Newal Kishore understood that printing was a tool not just for news, but for cultural preservation. Perhaps his most celebrated contribution in this arena was the publication of the monumental Urdu epic Dastan-e-Amir Hamza – the centuries-old cycle of fantastical tales about Amir Hamza’s adventures – including its most magical chapter, the Tilism-e-Hoshruba. These were classics of the oral storytelling (dastangoi) tradition, brimming with genies, sorcerers and enchanted worlds, traditionally performed by master storytellers late into the night. Fearing that such jewels might vanish with the last of the old dastangos, Newal Kishore set out to immortalize them in print.

In 1883, the Press embarked on an ambitious project to publish the entire Amir Hamza saga in Urdu prose. The result was nothing short of astounding – 46 volumes, totaling some 42,000 pages, painstakingly produced over a decade. He commissioned writers (like Syed Muhammad Husain Jah and Ahmed Husain Qamar) to adapt the tales for print, maintaining the flair of the spoken word on the printed page. The sheer scale and quality of these editions set a benchmark – never before had an Indian publisher produced such a voluminous work with consistent accuracy and elegant typography.

The impact was profound. These printed dastans extended the life of Urdu’s magnificent fantasy literature well into the 20th century. Generations of readers who never heard a live dastangoi performance could now lose themselves in the same magical adventures through books. In preserving the Tilism-e-Hoshruba, Newal Kishore Press also preserved a piece of the Indo-Islamic imagination – its rich symbols, its language play, its moral universe – at a time when such traditional arts were under threat from modernization. Indeed, the Press was famous for championing all forms of classical learning: along with dastans, it printed Persian love legends (qissas), Sufi poetry, histories of Mughal emperors, and theological works. Simultaneously, it catered to Hindu readership by publishing affordable editions of Sanskrit texts and Hindi myths. From the Bhagavata Purana to Tulsidas’s Ramcharitmanas, Newal Kishore Press brought Hindu sacred and literary texts into mass print, often with parallel Urdu or English translations (Nawal Kishore Press - Wikipedia). This was a radical democratization of knowledge—what had once been guarded in palace libraries or temple monasteries could now be bought from a bookseller by any curious mind.

The socio-cultural ripple effects were significant. Printing the epics and scriptures in local languages helped preserve linguistic heritage and instill pride in it. Urdu, Hindi, and Sanskrit each found a champion in the Press’s catalog. By the late 19th century, scholars and reformers in North India relied on Newal Kishore editions as authoritative references for Indian history and literature. The cross-pollination was notable: a Muslim reader in Lucknow might pick up a Hindi-printed Mahabharata, while a Hindu student in Allahabad might read Urdu translations of Avicenna’s medical treatises. In an era of growing communal divides, the Press’s inclusive library subtly reminded readers of a shared civilizational legacy. It is no surprise that researchers today still turn to the Press’s well-crafted 19th-century editions, praising their authenticity and scholarly value (Newal Kishore Press Museum write up.docx). By preserving and propagating the old tales and texts, the Newal Kishore Press ensured that the flame of India’s composite culture continued to burn bright, even as winds of change blew across the subcontinent.

Madhuri: A Hindi Literary Renaissance in the 1920s

(Madhuri (1928). This issue was edited by Munshi Premchand. – @vintageindianclothing on Tumblr) An illustration from a 1928 issue of Madhuri magazine. As a leading Hindi literary monthly, Madhuri often featured art portraying modern Indian women, reflecting the era’s cultural and social themes.

As the 20th century dawned, the torch of Newal Kishore Press passed to the next generations of the Bhargava family. Though the founder had died in 1895, his legacy persisted – especially in the realm of journalism and literature. By the 1920s, a new star emerged from the Press’s stables: Madhuri, a Hindi illustrated monthly that became the darling of literary enthusiasts. Madhuri was launched in July 1922 from Lucknow under the editorship of Dulare Lal Bhargava (Hindi Journalism: Voice of Indian Freedom Movement – Statetimes) (a testament that the family’s involvement continued). It quickly earned a “good reputation in a short span, as it was primarily a literary journal.” (Hindi Journalism: Voice of Indian Freedom Movement – Statetimes) For Hindi readers hungry for quality writing in their own language, Madhuri was a godsend.

In an era when Hindi literature was coming into its own, Madhuri provided a vibrant platform for poets, essayists, and story writers. Every issue was a treasure trove – short stories, reflective essays, literary criticism, humor, even the latest gossip from the world of books. Crucially, Madhuri drew many contributors from the rising generation of Hindi writers who were shaping modern Hindustani literature. The famous writer Munshi Premchand himself joined Madhuri’s editorial team: from 1924 to 1926, Premchand served as co-editor of the magazine (Print History: The biggest mistake of my life - Munshi Premchand and Saraswati Press, Benares | PrintWeekIndia). During this Lucknow sojourn, he penned some of his finest novels (like Rangbhoomi and Kayakalp) and numerous stories (Print History: The biggest mistake of my life - Munshi Premchand and Saraswati Press, Benares | PrintWeekIndia), many of which graced Madhuri’s pages before appearing as books. In fact, the competition for Premchand’s work was intense – Madhuri and other Hindi journals vied eagerly to publish his latest story (Print History: The biggest mistake of my life - Munshi Premchand and Saraswati Press, Benares | PrintWeekIndia). This illustrates Madhuri’s standing: it was one of the top literary outlets of its time, able to attract the best talent.

What set Madhuri apart was its modern, multi-faceted outlook. Unlike the somber Sanskrit-heavy journals of previous decades, Madhuri was lively and wide-ranging. It carried illustrations and cartoons, bringing visual art into the mix of literary culture. It spoke to women readers as well – featuring women’s writing and often addressing social topics like education for girls or the reform of outdated customs. In many ways, Madhuri mirrored the ethos of the 1920s: a period of ferment in India, with the freedom movement on the rise and a new consciousness awakening in society. The magazine wasn’t overtly political, but it subtly echoed the spirit of the times through fiction and satire. It was an important forum for debate on language and culture too. For instance, essays in Madhuri argued for a simpler Hindi style accessible to the masses, contributing to the development of Hindi as a national language. Month after month, its issues connected a growing community of Hindi readers across North India, shaping tastes and opinions.

Readers eagerly anticipated each issue, which often featured serialized novels (just as Avadh Akhbar had done in Urdu decades earlier) and translations of Bangla or Marathi stories into Hindi. Young writers who later became luminaries got an early break in Madhuri. The magazine’s influence even extended to journalism beyond literature – its success inspired other Hindi publishers to start magazines, spurring a mini-boom in Hindi periodicals during the 1920s and ’30s. Looking at Madhuri’s legacy, literary historians often place it alongside Saraswati (another pioneering Hindi journal) as a catalyst of the Hindi literary renaissance. It nurtured a readership that was both nationalistic and culturally refined, likely contributing to the intellectual milieu that shaped India’s freedom struggle. When we flip through surviving copies of Madhuri today – yellowed pages filled with elegant prose and early 20th-century artwork – we are reminded of a time when the written word in Hindi was ascending to new heights, and Newal Kishore Press was right there at the forefront of that journey.

Conclusion: The Lasting Impact of a Print Revolution

The story of the Newal Kishore Press is, in many ways, the story of India’s awakening through print. Over nearly a century, the Press published some 12,000 titles, including newspapers, magazines, books and pamphlets (Nawal Kishore Press - Wikipedia) – a colossal output that touched virtually every aspect of society. Through Avadh Akhbar, it pioneered fearless journalism and fostered an informed public. Through its preservation of epics and scriptures, it safeguarded a rich tapestry of Indo-Islamic and Hindu traditions for posterity. Through Madhuri and other journals, it spurred new literary movements and gave a platform to indigenous voices. All of this was achieved by an Indian enterprise operating under colonial rule, which makes it all the more remarkable.

The socio-cultural impact of this print revolution cannot be overstated. In the 19th century, Newal Kishore Press showed that knowledge could be democratized – that a scripture or story need not remain confined to manuscripts in a scholar’s chest, but could be printed by the thousands for anyone who cared to read. This democratization helped create an educated middle class in North India that was conscious of its heritage and rights. The press also became a medium of Hindu-Muslim unity in a tangible sense: a Hindu publisher printing Islamic texts with as much zeal as Hindu texts sent a powerful message of shared culture. It is telling that Newal Kishore earned the title of “Munshi” (a term of respect for a learned man) from the Urdu-speaking gentry, and simultaneously garnered praise from Hindi literati – bridging a divide through print.

By the early 20th century, many other Indian-owned presses had sprung up, but Newal Kishore Press remained an icon. Ulrike Stark, a scholar of South Asian print history, notes that it “rose to great fame in the history of commercial and scholarly publishing in India with an unparalleled range” of publications across languages (Microsoft Word - 9-Ulrike Stark) (Microsoft Word - 9-Ulrike Stark). Indeed, its model inspired others – for example, the Indian Press in Allahabad and the Lahore publishers who followed the penny-paper model – to emulate its success in journalism and book trade. Even the nationalist leaders recognized the power of the printed word that presses like Newal Kishore had unlocked.

By the time India achieved independence in 1947, the subcontinent had a thriving vernacular print culture – one that owed a debt to the early efforts of Munshi Newal Kishore and his press. It’s a testament to his vision that, even decades after the original press shut down, there are moves to revive the old press building in Lucknow as a museum and cultural space celebrating this heritage (Newal Kishore Press Museum write up.docx) (Legacy | Le Press Hazratganj). The legend of Newal Kishore Press lives on in every book fair stall that sells reprints of its classics, and in every discussion of how newspapers sowed the seeds of Indian independence.

For literary enthusiasts, the tale of Newal Kishore Press is an inspiring reminder of the pen’s (and the press’s) might. It is the story of how one man’s passion for print ignited minds across a colonized nation – fostering critical thought, preserving stories and songs, and ultimately, helping to write the destiny of India. The next time we curl up with a novel or scan the morning news, we might spare a thought for pioneers like Munshi Newal Kishore, who, over a century ago, made it possible for India to speak to Indians in ink and paper. Through Avadh Akhbar, Tilism, Madhuri and countless other printed wonders, the Newal Kishore Press truly revolutionized media in its age – a legacy that still resonates in the literary and cultural landscape of today.

Sources:

1. Ulrike Stark, “Politics, Public Issues and the Promotion of Urdu Literature: Avadh Akhbar, the First Urdu Daily in Northern India,” describing the launch of Avadh Akhbar in 1858 and its wide reach and popularity (Microsoft Word - 9-Ulrike Stark) (Microsoft Word - 9-Ulrike Stark).

2. Wikipedia: Nawal Kishore Press, noting the Press’s role in preserving Islamic texts, Urdu/Persian dastans, and publishing Sanskrit and Hindi works like the Puranas (Nawal Kishore Press - Wikipedia); also its pioneering Urdu daily Avadh Akhbar (first daily in N. India, 1877) and its massive output of 12,000 publications (Nawal Kishore Press - Wikipedia) (Nawal Kishore Press - Wikipedia).

3. Wikipedia: Avadh Akhbar, overview of the newspaper’s founding, content (politics, social reform, literature), and the first serialization of an Urdu novel (Fasana-e-Azad) in its pages (Avadh Akhbar - Wikipedia).

4. Roshan Taqui, Images of Lucknow, mentioning the Tilism Lucknow weekly of 1857 which published the Lucknow census in a series, printed at Mohammadi Press, Firangi Mahal (Full text of "Images Of Lucknow").

5. Times of India (Lucknow News), “Patriot who attacked Imperialist with ink” – recounting Newal Kishore’s contribution: the Press publishing in many languages and Oudh Akhbar’s bold coverage of the Kakori trial, Ashfaqullah Khan’s ghazals, and an 1875 editorial asserting “Independence is our birthright.” (Munshi Newal Kishore: Munshi Newal Kishore: Contribution at Koshala Literary Festival | Lucknow News - Times of India) (Munshi Newal Kishore: Munshi Newal Kishore: Contribution at Koshala Literary Festival | Lucknow News - Times of India)

6. PrintWeek India, “Print History: Premchand and Saraswati Press” – noting Premchand’s stint as co-editor of Madhuri (1924–26) and how top Hindi magazines like Madhuri competed for his stories (Print History: The biggest mistake of my life - Munshi Premchand and Saraswati Press, Benares | PrintWeekIndia) (Print History: The biggest mistake of my life - Munshi Premchand and Saraswati Press, Benares | PrintWeekIndia).

7. Statetimes (Prabhat Kishore), “Hindi Journalism: Voice of Indian Freedom Movement” – on the launch of Madhuri in 1922 under Dulare Lal Bhargava’s editorship and its rise as a respected literary journal (Hindi Journalism: Voice of Indian Freedom Movement – Statetimes).

8. Dawn (Karachi), “Literary Notes: Tilism-i-Hoshruba” – on Newal Kishore Press’s landmark publication of the Dastan-e-Amir Hamza cycle, including 8 volumes of Tilism-e-Hoshruba, immortalizing this Indo-Islamic epic in print (Literary Notes: Tilism-i-Hosh Ruba: Urdu`s classical tale with modern orthography - Newspaper - DAWN.COM).

9. Tornos India (Lucknow heritage blog), “Munshi Nawal Kishore” – highlighting Newal Kishore as a key knowledge broker who “opened a new era of printing in Lucknow” post-1857, printing rare works of Hindu and Islamic wisdom for the public (Munshi Nawal Kishore « TORNOS – India).