Showing posts with label Urdu. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Urdu. Show all posts

Saturday, 27 June 2020

Knives, daggers, and bullets cannot destroy religion.

Manto (2018)
Netflix

We always try to portray the world as a place of hope, of joy, dream, and the sky is the limit of our achievements. This is just hogwash. In the real world, Mother Nature is particularly hostile towards its creations. And we, the products, are no different towards each other. We sugarcoat the world around in perfect harmony with apple trees, honey bees and snow white turtle doves. In reality, it is ruled by bigots and kleptocrats who use their Machiavellian techniques to hoodwink everyone to fill up the world with their preset agendas. They paint an image of heaven on Earth, but deep in their pockets, they have conceived a plan of chaos and entropy. But still, these flag-waving jingoistic cabals have only one thing on their agenda - control and the power that comes with it. 

As if to entice its followers, they create an imaginary enemy and a promise of an unproven paradise. Consequently, the conforming automatons think with their brain; not with their heart, losing the only thing that keeps humanity alive. Compassion. 

History tells the story of the victors. Theirs would be the account as depicted by the powers that be. Writers, especially great ones, tell a different view of history. They say what is going at the ground level and is more indicative of that is true to life. Look at the mainstream media. See how 'truth' is hijacked to suit the narrative of the day and the viewpoint of their paymasters. Nobody likes bad news. They feel motivated when things are going on well as planned. They label writers as nihilistic and pessimistic as they tend to highlight only the things that are rather unseen, unheard, suppressed and marginalised. The raw reality of life is viewed as obscenity.

Hassan Sadaat Manto was a successful short story writer, novelist and screenwriter who lived in British India around the time of Indian Independence and Partition. Having a successful career in pre-Independent India in Bombay and Delhi, he was forced to leave for Pakistan after increasing aversion against Muslims in Bombay. He was deeply affected by the Partition by the things that he saw. Describing in detail, with no holds barred, the accounts of atrocities of Sikhs and Muslims against each other, he got into trouble to the Pakistani newly drafted obscenity law. He became progressive depressive, hit the bottle, jobless and succumbed to cirrhosis of the liver.

From the movie, I discovered two heart-wrenching short stories - Thandha Gosht (Cold Meat) and Toba Tek Singh (his last composition in 1955). Thandha Gosht tells the story of a Sikh man who meets his fiery and suspicious mistress after going missing for a couple of days. The mistress, suspecting that her lover had been disloyal to her, especially when he failed to rise to the occasion, slits his throat. The man confesses that he had gone off to kill Muslims. This was at the time of Partition. He joined the band of men at revenge rape of Muslim women. He emotionally tells how he attempted to rape a lady only to discover that she had already died. She was just like cold meat.


Manto with his wife Safia and sister-in-law Zakia
Manto Family Archive
Toba Tek Singh is a sad tale of an elderly Sikh man who is institutionalised in the Pakistani mental asylum. He longs to reunite with his family whom he left in the town of Toba Tek Singh. The old chap is unsure whether the city is in India or Pakistan after the Partition. Every one whom he asks gives a different account the town is situated. Then comes the day when Pakistan and India exchanges prisoners and mental patients. This old man is at the no man's land between two countries when he is released to India. Confused whether the town is actually situated, in India or Pakistan, he just drops dead in the agony of frustration.

Read an account of this remarkable storyteller here.


“Be afraid. Be very afraid.”*