January 18 is the death anniversary of Saadat Hasan Manto ( 1912-1955), who I regard as one of the greatest short story writers in the world. Manto could be compared to the likes of Guy de Maupassant, Somerset Maugham, D.H. Lawrence, O. Henry and Premchand.
I never had the privilege of meeting Manto, but I used to often meet his friend Upendra Nath Ashk, who too is a popular Hindi short story writer, in the Coffee House in Civil Lines, Allahabad. I was a lawyer in Allahabad High Court then.
Ashkji had been Manto’s colleague in the All India Radio in Delhi from 1941 to 1942 and even wrote a book on him—'Manto Mera Dushman'. Ashkji told me that Manto was an emotional, angry, highly sensitive man.
Some of Manto’s stories like Khol do, Bu, Kali Shalwar and Dhuan were called pornographic by some people, just like Maupassant’s stories. He often wrote about the seamy, squalid, sleazy, and sordid side of society, which no other writer dared to do. He was tried for obscenity six times in a court of law, but was never convicted. “People call my stories dirty, but that is because your society is dirty. I only tell the truth,” he had famously said.
Manto strongly opposed Partition, calling it madness. He was living in Bombay then, writing for films, but had to depart for Pakistan when Muslims connected to the film world started receiving death threats. In Lahore, he would associate with Faiz Ahmed Faiz, Nasir Kazmi, Ahmad Rahi, Ahmad Nadeem Qasmi and other writers in the Pakistan Tea House, but it seems he was never happy. He became an alcoholic and died of cirrhosis of the liver before he was 43.
Manto’s stories about Partition highlight its horrors and reveal the macabre animalistic side of human beings whose minds had been filled with communal hatred.
His ‘Letters to Uncle Sam’ are a satire on Pakistan which he believed had become a neo-colony of America.
It is a pity that such a great writer died so early.
Justice Markandey Katju retired from the Supreme Court in 2011.
The opinions expressed in this article are those of the author's and do not purport to reflect the opinions or views of THE WEEK.