sA’ADAt HAsAN mANto. Open It!*. The special train left Amritsar at two in the afternoon, taking eight hours to reach Mughalpura. Quite a few passengers were . “Khol Do” is one of the most famous and controversial stories of Manto. It is one of the masterpiece depicting the effects of violence during the. This story is published as “Khol Do” in a new translation by Aatish Taseer of Saadat Hasan Manto’s Selected Stories (Random House India).

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The special train left Amritsar at two in the afternoon and reached Mughalpura eight hours later. Many people were killed en route, many injured; some went astray.

Old Sirajuddin opened his eyes on the cold floor of the camp; seeing the swelling sea of men, women and children, he became still dtories confused. He stpries vacantly at the murky sky. There was chaos all round him, but he heard nothing, as if his ears were blocked. Anyone who saw him would think he was consumed by deep worry. But that was not so: His eyes struck the sun, and he awoke with a start as its sharp blaze entered him.

Images assailed from all sides. Sirajuddin stood up immediately, and like a madman, began surveying the sea of people all round him. For three full hours he scoured the camp, crying, “Sakina, Sakina. All round him, there was mayhem.

Manto’s Mirror To Partition: A Feminist Review Of ‘Khol Do’

kjol Someone looked for his son, another for his mother; someone for his wife, another for his daughter. Sirajuddin, tired and defeated, sat down on one side and tried to recall where and when he had been separated from Sakina.

But as he racked his brains, his mind fixed on Sakina’s mother’s body, her intestines spilled out, then he could think no further. Sakina’s mother was dead. She had taken her last breath before Sirajuddin’s eyes.

But where was Sakina? Her mother had said as she was dying, storiies me be.

Take Sakina and run. Sakina had been at his side. They had both run barefoot. Sakina’s dupatta had fallen down. He had stopped to pick it up, but Sakina screamed, “Abbaji, leave it! His eyes fell on his coat as he remembered this. He put his hand in the bulging pocket and took out a cloth: Sirajuddin tried hard to remember, but to no avail.


Had he brought Sakina as far as the station? Had she boarded the train with him? Had he become unconscious when the train was stopped, and the rioters came aboard? Was that how they were able to make off with Sakina?

Sirajuddin’s mind was full of questions, but not a single answer. He was in need of comfort, but then so were all the people scattered round him.

Sirajuddin wanted to cry, but his eyes would not co-operate. Who knew where all the tears had gone?

Six days later, once his nerves had settled, Sirajuddin met eight young men. They had a lorry and guns and said they would help him. Sirajuddin blessed them over and over again and gave them a description of Sakina.

Large eyes, black hair, there’s a big beauty spot on her right cheek. She’s my only daughter. Your God will reward you. The young volunteers assured old Sirajuddin, with great feeling, that if his daughter was alive, she would be by his wtories within a few days.

The men made every effort, even putting their lives on the line. They went to Amritsar and rescued men, women and children, and brought them to safety. Ten days passed, but Sakina was not to be found.

One day, the men were driving to Amritsar in their lorry, engaged in their work when, near Cherat, they saw a girl on the side of the road. She gave a start at the sound of the lorry and began to run. The volunteers turned off the engine and ran after her, managing to catch her in a field. She was very beautiful, with a large beauty spot on her right cheek.

One of the men asked, “Are you Sakina? The girl’s face di pale.

It was only after the men had reassured her that her terror left her, and she confessed she was Sirajuddin’s storiex, Sakina. The eight young volunteers comforted her, sat her in their lorry and gave her food and milk. She was distressed to be without a dupatta, and tried vainly to cover her breasts with her arms until one of the men took off his coat and gave it to her. Sirajuddin still had no news of Sakina. He would spend the whole day doing rounds of the different camps and offices, but received no word about Sakina’s whereabouts.


At night he would pray for the success of the young men. They had assured eo that if Sakina was alive, they would find her within a few days. One day Sirajuddin saw the young volunteers at the camp.

They were kyol in the lorry. Sirajuddin ran up to them. Sirajuddin asked, “Boys, have storiee heard anything about my Sakina? They all said in one voice, “We will, we will. Sirajuddin prayed once again for their success and his heart was a little lighter. Towards evening, there was a disturbance in the camp near where Sirajuddin sat. Four men were bringing something in. He made enquiries lhol discovered that a girl had been found unconscious near the rail tracks; she was being brought in now.

کھول دو [Khol Do] by Saadat Hasan Manto

Sirajuddin set off behind them. The people handed her over to the hospital and left. Sirajuddin stood still outside the hospital beside a wooden pole. Then slowly, he went in. There was no one in the dark storiew, just a stretcher with a body on it. Sirajuddin approached, taking small steps.

THANDA GOSHT and KHOL DO by Saadat Hasan Manto

Suddenly, the room lit up. Sirajuddin saw a mole on the pale face of the body, and cried, “Sakina! The doctor looked at the body on the stretcher. He checked its pulse and said to Sirajuddin, “The window, open it! At the sound of the words, Sakina’s corpse moved.

Kbol dead hands undid her salwar and lowered it. Old Sirajuddin cried with happiness, “She’s alive, my daughter’s alive!

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Her body beyond pain Saadat Hasan Manto The special train left Amritsar at two in the afternoon and reached Mughalpura eight hours later.