Manto was born as Saadat Hasan Manto in 1912 and died in 1955. He was never a bright student; failed thrice for his matriculation and, ironically, failed in Urdu, his idiom of expression, in all those attempts. He began his writing career as a cadet journalist in a monthly magazine and Baari Alig encouraged him to start translating classics from European languages. Victor Hugo's "Last days of a condemned" was his first attempt. His first story "Tamasha" was published in the same monthly magazine in 1934. In his chequered career, he always struggled financially. The political atmosphere in the country in the 30s and 40s was poisonous for both Muslims and Hindus. The communal riots started both in mainland India and would- be Pakistan. It significantly affected Manto's thinking. Many of his friends and benefactors dissuaded Manto from migrating to Pakistan, a decision that he always regretted. In the maelstrom of communal frenzy, there were many writers of both Hindi and Urdu, who succumbed and wrote stories siding with their respective communities. He remained above the prejudices of religion, caste, and creed. He wrote, what he saw, faithfully. Some critics had suggested that Manto died as a writer when he moved to Pakistan, though many of his classic stories emanated after reaching Pakistan, particularly, those which were written against the backdrop of partition. Manto rightly thought that he was being neglected and was not given the respect that was his due. Secondly, he always felt out of place in Lahore, which he found too stuffing in the new nation being formulated along religious lines as had ever been used to secular environs of pre-partitioned India, no matter how dangerous political atmosphere was. From his Bombay (now Mumbai)'s days in India until Lahore in Pakistan, Manto had become addicted to alcohol. As his resources were limited, that on occasions, he would write a story in a newspaper's office in half an hour and collect money, just enough to buy half a bottle of Rum. What makes Manto significant? "When I read Manto, I always feel that all his contemporaries, including me, am traveling in a bullock cart while he is flying in an airplane above us. He is so much ahead of his times".(Krishan Chander, the legendary writer from the sub-continent)Krishan Chander was reflecting on the themes of Manto's stories, which had never been attempted before by an Indian author. He was charged with obscenity for his stories, at least, three times, because the subject matter he was writing was taboo. Unsurprisingly, all the cases originated in Lahore (now, in Pakistan) where he went and settled after migrating from India. In his lifetime, Manto was accused of provoking sexual perversion. Here a quote from Waris Alvi, a prominent critic, would be not out of place."Sex has been an active theme in many of Manto's stories; but, there is also much more than sex in them. His characters reveal many other traits of their personalities. For example, his stories on prostitutes must not be called erotic stories. However, sex is a necessary part of a prostitute's life, and her profession but Manto's prostitutes are also motherly, selfless, innocent, caring. They are victims of degradation, isolation, and contempt of the society".To persistent criticism that he was indulging in sex, Manto replied that he did not have a "Salle Allah Ki Laundry " where he could wash and rinse human emotions and their actions. His themes for his time were avant-garde. Manto has written good, memorable, enduring, and weak stories. His mediocre stories are, mainly, a product of his desperate desire to buy a half bottle of Rum. When alive, he wrote an epitaph to be engraved on his grave after his death- "Here lies Manto, under mounds of earth. He thinks if he was a greater storyteller or God above." I am told that this epitaph has now been removed, under the pressure of the clergy, as it was considered blasphemous.
If you killed a bad man, what you would have killed was not his badness, but the man himself." As Mumtaz prepares to leave for Pakistan—a concept that in itself seems strange—Juggal can't shake away the feeling of guilt. His closest friend, his confidante was leaving because of what he said and the strange thing was, Juggal wasn't sure whether his guilt had to do with the fact that Mumtaz was leaving or the fact that he'd meant what he said: "I would kill you." Partition will forever be that one event that created and destroyed so much in its wake for India and Pakistan. Lands, homes, lives, and relationships suffered, turning neighbours into strangers, friends into foes. Even as Mumtaz bids a reluctant farewell to Bombay, he can't stop thinking of Sahae, the pimp with a heart of gold, a man who lived a life of contradictions until his very last breath. Manto's genius lies in telling stories whose characters forever remain a suspect to conventional morality. With Sahae, he also manages to show us how his thinking was way ahead of his times. Powerful and heartwrenching, this is short fiction at its best.
MantoSaadat Hassan Manto was born in Paraudi, Samarala, (Punjab) India in 1912 and died in 1955. In very short lived life, he produced 37 books in the Urdu language. He was an unconventional and intrepid writer. He did not follow any set rules of the society to write about the truth, and to him, it did not matter how acrimonious and dreadful it was.Manto started his writing career as a trainee in a magazine under the guidance of Baari Alig, who encouraged him to translate the European classics. Victor Hugo's "Last days of a condemned" was his first attempt. He also translated some Russian authors work in Urdu. Manto joined the Progressive Writers Association of leftist leanings, but quickly detached himself from the "Red" concept. So, Manto became a 'turncoat' in many writers forum of "Redness," and he did not care for them, but he kept his friendship with Kishan Chandra and Ismat Chughtai. Manto got the opportunity to write dialogues for the movies. He wrote stories, movie-dialogues, and screenplays for the different films. Due to financial and other reasons, many films remained incomplete, and those that were ultimately released were never a box office hit with one exception. While Manto was struggling to get his last gasp in Lahore, the movie Mirza Ghalib, which was penned by Saadat Hassan Manto, was running successfully and honored with the highest National Award by the Government of India. Manto wrote about Sugandhi, Sultana, Shanti, Siraj, and many others that the world did not treat them well. However, in his time, the world did not esteem him honorably either. Manto could not comprehend the logic to dissect India on the religious beliefs. He wrote the stories about the cross-border, such as 'Aakhri Salute, Toba Tek Singh, and Teetwal Ka Kutta', which ostracized Manto in the community. Thanks to overzealous fundamentalists, and for an extended period, Manto was proscribed and indicted, yes, three times in British India and three times in the Islamic Republic of Pakistan for the vulgarity written in 'Dhuan, Open it, The Odor, Kaali Shalwar, Thanda Gosht and Up and Down and In-between, ' and all those charges originated in Lahore. However, paying even twenty-five rupees as a penalty was consent of his guilt, though, Manto's friend, Nasir paid the fine. The people believed that Manto was very honest to the extent of being blunt. Moreover, that morality got him in trouble. Manto stated about himself in this sketch, "I could tell you with full confidence that Manto, who has been charged several times for being an abrasive writer, is a very fastidious person. However, I could not resist mentioning; he is such a doormat, who keeps himself shifted and winnowed." Some decriers venerated Manto for being honest about his writings. Yes, Manto Sahib that's what you penned, 'Everybody is naked in the bathroom. It is not your job to put the clothes on them. It is the job of the tailors.' Manto was an unconventional and brave writer. He didn't rely on the purported fictional standards of decorum established by the moralistic writers. To Manto, the truth was the truth, regardless, how appalling it was, and Manto never corrupted it. Manto wrote, "If you don't discern your social order, read my stories. If you catch a flaw, it's the defect of your society, not my stories."Moreover, Manto was gutsy enough to write his own epitaph, challenging God as to who was the better story writer, Manto or Him. After all, the Omnipotent kept him under His shelter, though, he tried to be brazen. However, nothing could be said about Manto's admirers. They were scared along with his family that Manto's flout could be blasphemous; therefore, his tombstone's epigraph was substituted with a verse of Ghalib.Rest in Peace, Janab Saadat Hassan Manto.
Ever since Sultana had moved to Delhi, business had slowed down. Unlike her time in Ambala, not a single gora had visited her so far. Even Khuda Bakhsh, her lucky charm wasn't bringing her any luck. Times were so bad that she didn't even have any money to buy black mourning clothes for Muharram. Lonely and idle, Sultana felt as if she was wasting her days away. Until she met Shankar. Confusing, intriguing and unlike any other man she'd ever met—and she'd met more than her share of men—Shankar was just like her and yet nothing like her. What she didn't realize though was that with a curious exchange and the promise of a black salwar, hers and Shankar's lives were about to be entangled in ways she could never have imagined. Written in Manto's typically engaging style, The Black Shalwarand its surprising twist at the end is as bewitching as Sultana and as unexpected as Shankar.
“[Manto’s] empathy and narrative economy invite comparisons with Chekhov. These readable, idiomatic translations have all the agile swiftness and understated poignancy that parallel suggests." ---Boyd Tonkin, Wall Street Journal Stories from "the undisputed master of the modern Indian short story" encircling the marginalized, forgotten lives of Bombay, set against the backdrop of the India-Pakistan Partition (Salman Rushdie) By far the most comprehensive collection of stories by this 20th Century master available in English. A master of the short story, Saadat Hasan Manto opens a window onto Bombay’s demimonde—its prostitutes, rickshaw drivers, artists, and strays as well probing the pain and bewilderment of the Hindus, Muslims, and Sikhs ripped apart by the India-Pakistan Partition. Manto is best known for his dry-eyed examination of the violence, horrors, and reverberations from the Partition. From a stray dog caught in the crossfire at the fresh border of India and Pakistan, to friendly neighbors turned enemy soldiers pausing for tea together in a momentary cease fire—Manto shines incandescent light into hidden corners with an unflinching gaze, and a fierce humanism. With a foreword by Pulitzer Prize–winning poet Vijay Seshadri, these stories are essential reading for our current moment where divisiveness is erupting into violence in so many parts of the world.
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