Suroor mera pura blog le le magar apni ye post mujhe de de !!
Drinking Blood
Thursday, June 12, 1947 - Lahore.
Pressing the large butcher’s knife against Manmohan’s throat, Laddan screamed one more time,
“Tell me the truth!”
“No, no! Please leave me. I told you I’m Brahmin. I’m not Muslim. I hate all Muslims – harami saale sab ke sab (bloody bastards all of them). I’m your Hindu brother in faith.”
Laddan pierced a small hole in Manmohan’s throat and the latter let out a piercing cry, but no one heard it. Outside, the city was on fire. Quit India movement was still raging on. Nine days earlier Lord Mountbatten had announced plans for the partition of India. The communal war was being fought furiously but no one knew who was on whose side. Hindus and Sikhs were against Muslims. Muslims hated them but together they were supposedly fighting against the British. Amanatullah’s kothi was burnt down to ashes. Yousuf Ali’s three daughters were raped and slaughtered in broad daylight. Amongst this chaos, Lord Mountbatten found order through sipping the Colonial tea which was exported to the UK and hugely benefited the business of the late Glaswegian, Sir Thomas Lipton.
Indians drank only cheap blood.
Laddan’s accomplice winked at him to hint Manmohan was telling the truth that he was Hindu. Without hesitation Laddan sliced open Manmohan’s teenage throat in a single motion. He was now a pro. Manmohan gargled furiously on his gushing blood which had splattered everywhere. In his fist he tightly held his taweez, hiding it from Laddan. Pupils fully dilated, Manmohan’s shocked eyes stared at nothingness as he tried to proclaim, “La ‘ilaa-ha ‘il-lal-laa-hu mu-ham-ma-dur ra-soo-lul-laah.”
Laddan aka Salamat Ali stared at Manmohan aka Abdul Latif in utter shock. He turned to his naïve accomplice and shouted,
“Saale! You said he was a Hindu swine?!”
(For me technically it was a weak story as it was easy to identify adult muslim/hindu quickly via circumcision. I still loved this story because of the central theme that, 'when you get blind with religion, you get decieve easily'. When I expressed my reservation to suroor, she explained to me: "You know I used to think that too and thus Manto made sense but there were many Muslim families who didn't (or forgot to) practice circumcision which should have made life during partition more difficult. For instance my grandfather had 15 siblings (9 brothers) from two mothers and except for two older boys none was circumcised! They were raised by Hindu nannies and life just got on without anyone remembering that the seven boys were never snipped". - Thanks suroor)
8 comments:
ahhhhhhhhhhh!!! :O
That was an amazing compliment, Mystic! I am truly humbled because I admire your writing immensely. You have the soul of a writer who was born to write.
You are always welcome !
I am serious. I was not expecting such a story from you. To be honest, I re-checked, if I am reading your blog. I will put your answer to my reservation re. cirumcision here.
That's interesting - why weren't you expecting it from me? It would be interesting to know what readers think about my writing style.
Kia aap dono Anjuman-e-tareef-e-bahmi kai members hain?
"Anjuman-e-tareef-e-bahmi"....hahaha. That' funny.
No indeed not, but if you read suroor, you will find her a very very intelligent writer who is well read and 'knows her s***".
Suroor - this is a classic kind of story from 'Manto era'. As far as I know about, you are an half arab and grew away from subcontinent. So it was a pleasent surprize to read this from second pakistani generation who lived most of his life away from India/Pakistan.
OK, I get anony's comment now - hehe!
I know my s****! I know my s****! I love this tagline! - A post on this soon.
Oh, ok. Yea, I spent long afternoon hours with my dada and he spoke non-stop about the partition and what him and his family had to go through. At one time I started to believe I was born again, that I had lived in that time once and was freedom fighter who was killed!! Also, both my dada and father were writers so I got to read what they wrote on the topic. I just loved listening to dada's stories.
My great-grandfather was personally brought to Aligargh by Sir Syed Ahmed Khan and he grew up to become the warden of the university hostel.
lol...I think, knowing self's shit is the most important thing and compliment in the world !!
Thanks for sharing yr family history with us. Now we know, you have intelligent genes.
Can't wait more to see yr post on S*** thingy...
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