saadat hasan manto

Recite the Kalima!*

La ilaha il-lal lah, muhammadur rasul allah You are a Muslim, believe
1

me, I speak only the truth. Pakistan has nothing to do with it. Honest. Im
ready any time to lay down my life for Quaid-e-Azam Jinnah. Please, dont
be so hasty. Yes, of course, I know you dont have time, especially during
these turbulent days of rioting. But, for Gods sake, at least hear me out.
Yes, I killed Tikka Ram, slashed his stomach with a sharp kitchen knife as
you say, but not because he was Hindu. Well then, if I didnt kill him, who
did, you might ask. All right, let me relate the whole story.
Recite the kalima: La ilaha What wretch knew that he would be
embroiled in this mess? I killed three Hindus during the last Hindu-Muslim
riots. But that was different, believe me. Ill tell you what happened, why I
killed this Tikka Ram.
Well, sir, whats your opinion of this breed called woman? I think our
elders have spoken the truth: only God can save us from their wiles, their
shenanigans. If Im spared the hangmans noose, I swear, Ill never come
anywhere near a womanever. But, sir, a woman is not the only one to
blame; men are no less guilty. The minute they see a woman, any woman,
they start drooling all over. Inspector Sahib, I have to die one day and
face my Lord. The moment my eyes fell on Rukma, I just crumbled.
Now one should ask: man, youre a petty employee who makes only
thirty-five rupees, what have you got to do with love? Collect the rent and
be on your way. Call it my misfortune, Sahib, one day when I went to
collect the rent for Kholi No. 16 and knocked at the door, Rukma Bai came
out. I had already seen her several times before, but that day her body was
glistening with rubbed oil under a loosely wrapped gauzy sari. God knows
why, a sudden impulse gripped me to yank on her sari and start massaging
her body with all my strength. Well, that was the day when this wretch
*

Pay Kalima, from the authors collection Mannma (Lahore: Sag-e Ml

Publications, 1990), 25967.
1
There is no God but Allh; Muammad is the messenger of Allh.

76

Saadat Hasan Manto 77

surrendered his heart and mind to her.
My, my, what a woman she was! Her bodyso firm I thought I was
massaging a piece of granite. I was gasping from exertion within minutes,
but she kept saying, A while longer.
Married? Yes, she was married. And if Khan the watchman is to be
believed, she was also carrying on with a lover. But listen to the whole
story, the lover will figure in it and so will everything else.
So, I went gaga over her that day. And she seemed to have guessed as
much. She would give me a side-glance and smile. But, as God is my witness, every time she smiled a tremor of fear ran through my whole body.
At first I thought it was the result of seeing ones love so close, but only
later I realized but you should listen from the very beginning.
As I mentioned, I had exchanged amorous glances with Rukma Bai,
now my entire effort was focused on how to get further along with her.
Her husband, the bastard, remained glued to the kholi all the time carving
his puny wooden toys and never gave me a chance.
One day I sawwhat was her husbands name, yes, GirdhariI saw
Girdhari headed for the bazaar carrying a bundle of toys wrapped in a
chador. Here was my chance. I immediately ran to Kholi No. 16 and knocked
at the door with my heart pounding so hard it seemed as though it would
jump out of my chest. The door opened. Rukma Bai stared at me. I trembled right down to the roots of my hair, I swear. I would have fled, but she
smiled and signaled for me to step inside.
She closed the door behind me and said, Sit! I sat down. She came
over near me and said, Look, I know what youre after. Its not likely that
youll get it, not while Girdhari is alive.
I stood up at once. Her closeness was roasting me. Even my temples
were buzzing. She had oil rubbed over her body again today and had
thrown the same gauzy sari loosely around her. I grabbed her shoulders
and pressed them hard as I said, I dont know what youre talking about.
Oh those biceps, by God, they felt as hard as steel! I cant even begin to
tell you what kind of woman she was.
Anyway, please listen to what happened.
I was so worked up I was sizzling. I hugged her tightly and blurted
out, Girdhari can go to Hell youve got to be mine.
She pushed me away. Watch out, youll get oil all over you.
Who cares, I said and clasped her again. Even if somebody had
flayed my back raw with a whip, I wouldnt have let go of her. But boy,
oh boy, did she have a way with words! I cooled off and quietly sat down
where she told me to sit. I knew she was thinking. That sala, Girdhari, is
away at the moment. What is she so afraid of? When my patience ran out,

78 The Annual of Urdu Studies, No. 29

I said, Rukma, we wont get such a fine chance again.
She ran her hand over my head lovingly and said with a smile, Oh
we will, we will, an even finer chance, youll see. But tell me this: will you
do as I say.
Sahib, I was like someone possessed. I was broiling with passion. Yes,
yes. I can kill for you, not one but fifteen people if I have to.
She smiled, Of that Im sure.
I swear to God, once again I trembled all over. I thought it was because
of my inflamed passions.
Well, I stayed with her a little while longer, engaged in some love-talk,
ate her fried bhajiyas, and then quietly slipped out. That thing well, it
didnt happen, but, Sahib, that sort of thing doesnt happen the very first
time. Some other time, I told myself.
Ten days went by. On the eleventh day at twoyes, it must have been
two in the morning, someone quietly woke me up. I sleep down by the
staircase.
When I opened my eyes I was surprised to see Rukma Bai in front of
me. My heart started to pound. Whats going on? I asked in a hushed
voice. And she said very softly, Come with me.
I followed her barefooted to her kholi. I flung every thought to the
wind and then and there clasped her tightly to my chest. And she whispered, Wait a little. She turned on the light; the sudden glare blinded my
vision somewhat.
When I was able to see again, I found someone lying on the floor on
a mat; the face was covered with a piece of cloth. I gestured with my hand
asking Rukma who it was. She said, Sit down. I sat down like an uncomprehending fool. She came close to me and, caressing my head lovingly,
said something that knocked the living daylights out of me. I was frozen
stiff, as if all the blood had coagulated in my veins.
Recite the kalima: La ilaha Ive never seen a woman like her in my
life. Kambakht, she said smiling, Ive bumped off Girdhari.
Believe me, shed murdered a sturdy man with her own hands. What
a woman, Sahib! Whenever I recall that night every hair on my body stands
on end. The heartless woman showed me the braided electric cord she
had used to strangle Girdhari. She had attached a piece of wood to the cord
and twisted it around and around with such force that the poor mans
tongue and eyes had popped out. She told me it only took minutes to finish
him off.
She removed the piece of cloth and showed me Girdharis face, and I
froze down to the marrow of my bones. What a wench! There, in front of
her dead husband, she hugged me. I swear by the Quran. I immediately

Saadat Hasan Manto 79

felt as though Id become a dud forever. But, Sahib, the minute her body
rubbed against mine and she gave me a strange sort of kiss, I was revived
like never before. Ill remember that night for the rest of my life. Oblivious
of the corpse lying in front of us, Rukma and I were deeply absorbed in
each other.
In the morning we hacked Girdharis body into three pieces. That
was no trouble; the poor mans tools came in handy. Yes, we made a lot
of banging noise, but people must have thought that Girdhari was working.
Well now, you might ask: why did you participate in such a gruesome
deed? Sahib, if you want the truth, shed made me her slave in just one
night. Had she asked me, I would have had no trouble making short work
of fifteen men. Remember, Id told her as much.
The big problem now was how to dispose of the chopped-up body.
Rukma, regardless of her pluck and nerve, was a woman after all. I told
her, Darling, dont you worry. Lets just dump the pieces in the trunk for
now. Ill carry it out at night and get rid of them. As luck would have it, a
riot broke out that day and a lot of fighting and killing took place in five
or six areas of the city. A thirty-six-hour curfew was imposed. I told myself, Abdul Karim, you must dispose of the body today no matter what.
So I got up at two in the morning and hauled the trunk out of her kholi.
God, it was heavy! I was afraid of running into a khaki-turban any minute
somewhere on my way and hed sure as hell arrest me for breaking the
curfew. But Sahib, no one harms him whom God wishes to protect. Every
single bazaar I passed through was deathly still. I spotted a small mosque
near one bazaar. I opened the trunk, threw the pieces inside the mosques
courtyard and went back.
Oh, wouldnt a man sacrifice his life to the Lords absolute power!
Come morning it was discovered that Hindus had set fire to that mosque.
Girdhari must have been burned up with it, I imagined. Now, Sahib, there
was no impediment. I advised Rukma to let it be known in the chawli that
Girdhari had gone out with his toys. I would visit her about two-thirty in
the morning and wed have action. She said, Abdul, lets not be hasty.
Lets not meet at all for a fortnight. That made sense. I kept quiet.
Seventeen days passed. Girdhari stole into my dreams to frighten me,
but I told him, Sala, youre finished, dead. You cant do a thing to me now.
On the night of the eighteenth day, as I was sleeping at the foot of the stairs
as usual, Rukma came, woke me up and led me to her quarters. It must
have been around twelve, or at most one.
She stretched out naked on the mat and said, Abdul, my body is aching.
Come, give me a massage.
I quickly took some oil and started rubbing it over her body. I was out

80 The Annual of Urdu Studies, No. 29

of breath within half an hour and a few drops of my perspiration dripped
over her clammy body. But would she ever say, You can stop now, you
must be tired? Eventually, I had to say, Rukma, that should do it. She
smiled, and what a smile it was! After catching my breath I sat down on
the mat. She got up, turned off the light, and snuggled up to me. I was so
exhausted from the hard work of massaging her that I couldnt think
straight. I just put my arm on her breast and dozed off.
At some point I woke up with a start, feeling confused. I felt something
hard digging into my neck. The thought of that twisted electric cord ran
through my mind. Before I could wring myself out of the tightening noose,
she had already mounted my chest. She gave the cord a couple of twists
with such force that my throat began to make cackling sounds. I tried to
scream, but my voice couldnt get to my throat. After that I passed out.
I believe it must have been around four when I slowly came to. My
neck was hurting badly. I stayed put and started slowly unraveling the
rope around my neck. Suddenly I heard noises. Holding my breath with
my eyes wide-open, I probed the pitch-dark room but saw nothing. The
noises gave the impression that two men were wrestling. Rukma was
gasping. Breathless she said, Tikka Ram, turn on the light! A frightened
Tikka Ram peeped feebly, No, no. Rukma, no. She said in a mocking tone,
So timid! How will you cut him up and carry the pieces out in the morning? My body froze stiff. I have no idea how Tikka Ram responded to her.
God knows at what point the light suddenly came on. I got up rubbing my eyes. Tikka Ram let out a scream, hurriedly opened the door and
took off. Rukma quickly closed the door behind him and latched it securely.
Sahib, how can I ever tell you about my state then. Although my eyes were
wide-open and I was seeing and hearing everything, I had absolutely no
strength in me to move.
Tikka Ram was not somebody I didnt know. He often came to our
chawli hawking mangoes. I have no idea how Rukma managed to hook
up with him.
She was gaping at me as if she didnt believe her eyes. She thought
she had killed me. But here I was alive and breathing right in front of her.
She was about to pounce on me when there was a knock at the door followed by a crescendo of voices. She quickly grabbed my hand and dragged
me to the bathroom. Then she opened the front door. The people outside
were all chawli-wallahs. They asked her, Is everything all right? We just
heard a scream. Everything is fine, she replied. Its just that I have this
habit of walking in my sleep. When I opened the door and came out, I
dashed against the wall. I panicked and screamed. Thats all. The people
felt satisfied and left.

Saadat Hasan Manto 81

Rukma shut the door and latched it tightly. I was worried sick thinking
of what lay in store for me. Believe me, sir, thinking the wretch wouldnt
leave me alive produced a burst of energy in me to fight her with all my
might. In fact, I decided to hack her to pieces. When I managed to get out
of the bathroom and saw her peering out of the big window, I leapt over
to her, lifted her rear end and pushed her out. All this happened in a blink. I
heard a heavy thud, quickly opened the door and cleared out. Lying on
my cot, for the rest of the night I kept rubbing oil on my badly frayed
neck to sooth ithere, you can see the bruises. None of the neighbors
would have a clue about what happened, I thought with satisfaction. Didnt
she tell them herself that she had this habit of walking in her sleep? Her
corpse lying on the other side of the chawli would convince them that she
must have been sleepwalking and fell out the window. Dawn broke,
taking all the time in the world. I had wrapped a kerchief around my neck
to hide the bruises. It got to be nine oclock, and then twelve, but nobody
was talking about her dead body. Where she had landed was a long, narrow space wedged between two tenements with a door on either end to
stop people from using it for a toilet, still quite a heap of trash tossed out
of the windows of the two buildings got collected. The sweeper woman
carried it away every morning and evening. Perhaps she hadnt come to
collect garbage that day, I thought, for if she had, she would have noticed
Rukmas dead body as soon as she entered and would have made quite a
hullabaloo. What the hell was going on? I wanted people to know about it
without delay. By two oclock. I couldnt hold back anymore. I opened the
door and peeked. I was stunned. No dead body, no garbage either. Wonders! Where the hell did Rukma disappear? I swear by the Quran, if I ever
walk away from the hangmans noose a free man, it wouldnt surprise me
more than her inexplicable disappearance. Id pushed her from the third
floor onto the cobbled ground below. How could she have survived? But
then who carried her corpse away? Reason refuses to accept it, but who
can tell, Sahib, the woman she was, she might have walked out alive.
Chawli-wallahs think that either some Muslim made off with her or killed
her. Good for him if he killed her, but if hes keeping her in his house,
you can imagine what end hell come to. God save him, Sahib.
Now let me tell you about Tikka Ram. He met me twenty days later
and asked, Wheres Rukma? I told him I had no idea. No, you damn well
know, he insisted with a veiled threat in his voice. I told him, Brother, I
swear by the Quran, I know nothing about her. No, he said, youre
lying. Youve killed her. Im going to file a report with the police. Ill say
that first you dispatched Girdhari, then Rukma. And then he left. I broke
into a sweat from sheer terror. I thought long and hard about what to do,

82 The Annual of Urdu Studies, No. 29

but couldnt think of anything except that I should make short work of him.
You tell me, what else could I have done? So I took a kitchen knife and
sharpened it in absolute secrecy, and then I went out looking for Tikka
Ram. By chance I found him near the urinal at the corner of the street. He
had just put his empty boxes of oranges down outside and gone in to take
a leak. I darted in behind him. He was just unwrapping his dhoti when I
yelled, Tikka Ram! The moment he turned around, I plunged the knife
into his stomach. He tried with both hands to keep his guts from spilling
out but doubled over and crumbled. There and then I should have made
my escape, but look at the foolhardy thing I did. I started to check for his
pulse to make sure he was dead. All Id heard was that everyone has this
vein, but whether it was on the left or right of the thumb I didnt know. I
was taking a long time figuring it out. That was my undoing. A constable
entered unbuttoning his crotch. He grabbed me. Well, Sahib, this is the whole
story, pure and simple, without a grain of falsehood. Recite the kalima: La
ilaha ! q
Translated by Muhammad Umar Memon