A Woman Setting Literature Free: The Story of Ismat Chugtai

A distinct and unique person, Ismat Chughtai was always certain of what she wanted in her life. Firm in her decisions and lucid in her writings, she changed the world around her and the world that was born from her pen. Only a few have such abilities. Her story stands tall in those of the Progressive Writers of her time.

Ismat Chugtai. Illustration by Tarun Kumar

Ismat Chughtai was destined to be a fierce personality from the start. Born as the ninth of ten siblings in Badaun, United Provinces (1911), she grew up doing everything that her brothers did, whether it was horseback riding, climbing trees, or playing football in the streets. Adamant and unrelenting, she got what she wanted. This was especially true for her education. She completed her education up to 4th grade in Agra and completed 8th grade in Aligarh. After this point, her parents wished for her to be trained in the nuances of being a housewife, but Chughtai wouldn’t have any of it. She threatened to run away, convert to Christianity and enrol herself in a missionary school. At this point, her father had to relent, and she started 10th grade in Aligarh. She went on to graduate with a Bachelor of Arts degree from the Isabella Thoubourn College (Lucknow) in 1940.

Chughtai, considered one of the four pillars of Modern Urdu Literature, was also a part of the Progressive Writers’ Association. Despite being a part of the Movement, our beloved rebellious heroine followed her own heart. She recalled ‘When the...PWA rigidly concluded that Progressive literature is only that which is written about the Peasant and the Labourer, I disagreed. I cannot know and empathise with the Peasant class as closely I can feel the pain of the middle and the lower class... Independent thinking has always been my nature and still is.’ Because she was firmly secure in her own self, she was able to write about and bring to the fore various themes that had often been overlooked in Indian literature.

Chughtai wrote extensively about women—about sexual exploitation, loneliness, unfulfilled marriages, love, and social restrictions that choked all women. One of her works, a 1942 short story named Lihaaf, brought home notoriety and legal issues. She was summoned by the Lahore High Court on charges of an obscene depiction of female homosexuality. On her journey to Lahore, Chughtai was accompanied by fellow PWA writer, Sadat Hasan Manto, who was similarly accused for his short story Bu. Both were later exonerated.

Lihaaf was a watershed moment in Chughtai’s life, one that weighed heavily on her for the rest of her life. In 1942, she married Shahid Latif. In love as in other aspects of life, Chughtai was anything but conventional. She warned Shahid ‘All my life I’ve cut the chains that fettered me, I won’t be able to take up another shackle. Obedience, chastity, and other virtues expected of a woman do not suit me. Lest you repent in the end.’ About Shahid, Chughtai later said ‘A man can offer love, respect, and even prostrations to a woman, but he can’t give her an equal status; Shahid gave me an equal status.’

Shahid Latif also became her entry point to the film industry, where she often wrote screenplays and dialogues for various movies. Thus, Chughtai left behind a vast legacy including both literature and movies. Some of her most notable works in the film industry include Sone Ki Chidiya, Ziddi, Aarzoo, Junun, Buzdil, Shikayat, and Garam-Hava. Her literary works include Mausam, Dil Ki Duniya, Ek Qatra Khun, Ajib Admi, Dayen, Saas, Genda, Neera, and more.

What truly set Chughtai apart was the lens through which she wrote. When she wrote about women, she was not writing as a mere bystander who was narrating the episode. Rather, she could feel what she wrote, and she wrote what she felt. Perhaps this is the reason why many of her short stories contain pieces of herself. Chughtai was unconventional through and through, and even at the end, she desired to be cremated instead of being buried, saying ‘I am very scared of the grave. They bury you beneath a pile of mud. One would suffocate...I'd rather be cremated.’ Her wishes were respected when she passed away on 24 October 1991.