Short stories by Saadat Hasan Manto: A daughter’s return reveals the violent price of the Partition

The special train left Amritsar at two in the afternoon and reached Mughalpura after eight hours. A lot of people were killed on the way. Many were injured and some got lost here and there.

At ten in the morning, when Sirajuddin opened his eyes on the cold floor of the camp, he saw around him a turbulent sea of men, women and children. He was at a loss. For a long time, he kept staring at the murky sky. Though every corner of the camp was reverberating with noise, it seemed as though old Sirajuddin’s ears were sealed. He could not hear anything. Anyone who saw him would think he was lost in deep thought but that wasn’t the case. His senses had been numbed. His entire being seemed as if it was suspended in empty space.

While gazing aimlessly at the murky sky, Sirajuddin’s eyes met the sun. Its bright rays penetrated and settled into the fibres of his being and he woke up. Several images flitted across his mind. Looting, fire … chaos … station … bullets … night, and Sakina … Sirajuddin stood up with a start and, with a mad fervour, began rummaging through the sea of...

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