Boo by Saddat Hassan Manto
I read this story in English translation. And I loved it. It is a story of a man who gets ensnared by the smell of a woman. We do not know who that woman is. She is just someone on the street in front of his house – a poor, beggar woman, maybe smelly, unwashed, but with a young supple body. The man sees her from his balcony and gestures her to come to him. They have sex. In other words, he takes advantage of her in the garb of helping and saving her from hostile streets as long as his lust lasts.
While he is promiscuous, he feels crippled by this experience. He gets married to a woman of his class; educated, 'detergent-clean' like him, but he feels unmoved by her. His body is fully captivated by the smell of the street woman. Her sexual influence on him is so powerful that he remains unresponsive to his newlywed wife. He is haunted by the memory of her 'smell' that has so firmly been lodged in his body.
Although it is a short story, Manto effectively captures its nuanced content. One theme of the story is the sorts of castles we build around the body of woman. It is through her body that Patriarchy asserts and perpetuate itself. The woman who is picked up from the street is not just a random homeless person, she is most probably an 'Untouchable' or a lower caste woman. Manto in his penchant for calling spade a spade, shows us the pretensions of Indian society. In the context of caste, untouchables are created so that they can be exploited, shunned, and mocked. However, in the story, the upper caste/class man is at her feet – the ideas of pure/impure, clean/unclean seems to exist in his room, he makes love to her and touches what is not to be touched. It is the sexuality that trumps the man-made binaries. Later, as we see how he suffers the facade of his 'clean, upper caste marriage.'
This is not one of Manto's most well-known stories but it is a good specimen of his work. It indicates Manto's ingenuity as a writer. Manto was aware of his own brilliance. Once he proudly claimed that there are only two entities who can write short stories; one is god and the other Manto himself. He further added that the god is struck with disbelief when he looks at Manto's stories from his heavenly abode.
One could hear and smell Bombay in Manto's stories. They are as resilient and informative as any significant archival record on the city. I think the Bombay one sees in Manto is probably the best and most 'authentic' portrayal of the city in Indian literature. I hope in future more gifted writers would translate his work into English. For the time being, one can use whatever translations are available. In other words, if I cannot see the Taj Mahal in real, I will at the least like to see a full-length poster of the wondrous monument.
While he is promiscuous, he feels crippled by this experience. He gets married to a woman of his class; educated, 'detergent-clean' like him, but he feels unmoved by her. His body is fully captivated by the smell of the street woman. Her sexual influence on him is so powerful that he remains unresponsive to his newlywed wife. He is haunted by the memory of her 'smell' that has so firmly been lodged in his body.
Although it is a short story, Manto effectively captures its nuanced content. One theme of the story is the sorts of castles we build around the body of woman. It is through her body that Patriarchy asserts and perpetuate itself. The woman who is picked up from the street is not just a random homeless person, she is most probably an 'Untouchable' or a lower caste woman. Manto in his penchant for calling spade a spade, shows us the pretensions of Indian society. In the context of caste, untouchables are created so that they can be exploited, shunned, and mocked. However, in the story, the upper caste/class man is at her feet – the ideas of pure/impure, clean/unclean seems to exist in his room, he makes love to her and touches what is not to be touched. It is the sexuality that trumps the man-made binaries. Later, as we see how he suffers the facade of his 'clean, upper caste marriage.'
This is not one of Manto's most well-known stories but it is a good specimen of his work. It indicates Manto's ingenuity as a writer. Manto was aware of his own brilliance. Once he proudly claimed that there are only two entities who can write short stories; one is god and the other Manto himself. He further added that the god is struck with disbelief when he looks at Manto's stories from his heavenly abode.
One could hear and smell Bombay in Manto's stories. They are as resilient and informative as any significant archival record on the city. I think the Bombay one sees in Manto is probably the best and most 'authentic' portrayal of the city in Indian literature. I hope in future more gifted writers would translate his work into English. For the time being, one can use whatever translations are available. In other words, if I cannot see the Taj Mahal in real, I will at the least like to see a full-length poster of the wondrous monument.
Comments
Post a Comment