
A bit of Manto in Urdu theatre workshop at Daryaganj school
NEW DELHI: 'If you cannot bear these stories, it is because we live in unbearable times,' wrote Saadat Hasan Manto—words that lingered like a quiet pulse in the sunlit auditorium of Crescent School, Daryaganj.
Just past 10 am, the room buzzed with the vibrant energy of over 40 students, their laughter and chatter filling the space. This was no ordinary summer programme—it was a celebration of Urdu's enduring spirit, brought to life through a theatre workshop hosted by the Urdu Academy under Delhi's Department of Art, Culture, and Languages. Here, young minds are not just learning lines but breathing life into Manto's timeless stories, rediscovering a language that connects, heals, and inspires.
Open to students from classes IV to XII, the workshop runs daily from 10 am to 1 pm, transforming the auditorium into a stage of creativity and courage. Children sat in a loose circle on the polished floor, their faces lit by morning light.
Leading the session was Naghma Parveen, whose warm smile and infectious enthusiasm set the tone. 'Aaj hum Manto ki kahani 'Toba Tek Singh' ko zinda karenge,' she declared, her voice brimming with excitement. Through mirror exercises, tongue twisters, and scene rehearsals, students found both voice and confidence. One girl's raw portrayal of Bishan Singh moved the room to silence. Younger participants lit up the stage with Ismat Chughtai's Chui Mui.
'Theatre teaches empathy,' Parveen said. 'Manto's stories demand raw honesty, and Urdu gives these children the words to express it.'
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She highlights the importance of the International Booker Prize giving equal emphasis to both the writer-translators and the writers from the original language. 'So, I think that attention is very important for translations and writer translators as well', she says. Talking about the media coverage Heart Lamp received, Ms. Bhaskar says there is immediate media coverage once a book is longlisted or shortlisted for a prestigious award, and such coverage doubles if the book wins. She adds that this kind of visibility has a direct impact on sales. 'This, in turn, has a direct impact on sales', she says. Ms. Bhaskar says they have seen sales numbers of books spiralling the moment they win prestigious awards. She notes that the ripples spread far, and that major wins typically benefit all literature coming out in a certain language. She emphasizes that such recognition also helps literature in translation overall, and sometimes even specific genres like poetry or short fiction. It also bodes well for literature in translation (as a whole), and sometimes, it bodes well for certain genres. Ms. Bhaskar points out that very often, in India, readers look for approval abroad before buying a book published locally. She stresses the need for Indian readers to start recognising the wealth of literature already available in the country—in English, in translation, and in regional languages—and to start supporting these books without necessarily waiting for validation from the West. Ms. Butalia says readers are more willing to buy translated works in general, perhaps this is because translated books are also more visible now, both in offline and in online bookshops. And they are better marketed, as books in their own right and not as poor cousins of an original. Ms. Bhasthi says that compared to other literary fiction, translated fiction is still not as widely read as it should be in a diverse country like India. She expresses hope that readers show more interest in translated fiction, and specifically mentions Kannada as one of the more under-translated languages in South India. Ms. Bhasthi says'I hope more translators bring forth some of the extraordinary works that we have in my language.'