To divide Saadat Hasan Manto, the celebrated Urdu writer, along the lines of nationality would be the ultimate irony.
He took the Partition so much to heart that it broke him. So I was very keen for the film to be released simultaneously in India and Pakistan. He equally belonged to both countries and that is why I wanted the film to be released in them simultaneously.
I was fully aware of the fragile nature of the relationship between the two countries and the frequent banning of cross-border movement of art and artists. But we did manage to get one of the best distributors on board due to the popularity of Hindi films there and the buzz Manto had generated. After much back and forth with them over the past few months, I just got the news that Manto was not passed by their Censor Board. The reasons cited are that “the film has anti-Partition narrative theme and explicit scenes, which is against the norms of Pakistani society”.
Censorship is not unknown to us in India. I personally have had to face similar committees for Firaaq and Manto. In both instances, after several hours of negotiations, I managed to limit the cuts to only a few audio ones.
In any case, the whole process of censorship is so subjective and arbitrary that one can only hope to reason it out. Unfortunately, this time around, I won’t get the opportunity to present my case to the Pakistani Censor Board. In the last six years that I have been working on Manto, not only his family but many others in Pakistan have been waiting anxiously to see it on the big screen. So while this explanation is in defence of freedom, it is also for them.
To call a film “anti-Partition” is actually a startling way to criticise it. With two million dead and 14 million displaced – the largest mass migration in the world to date – Partition has made an indelible mark on our shared history. But the trauma of Partition is more complex there than in India. I was sensitised to this during my first visit to Pakistan in 1996. As an Indian, I did not understand that for them, the pain of Partition violence and the joy of the birth of a new nation are deeply intertwined. Their very existence is linked to it. Yet, the reality of the violence cannot be ignored.
From the feedback the film has received, it is clear that most have looked beyond the nationalistic narrative. Instead they have deeply empathised with Manto, who had internalised the pain felt by millions on both sides of the border. This was best expressed in Manto’s story, Toba Tek Singh, which reminds us of the absurdity of the mindless violence in ways that history and statistics do not.