I have always been a little skeptical about translated works as it takes a lot to keep the essence of the original text intact. Often, a lot is indeed lost in translation. But as I want to read as vastly as possible I also frequently find myself searching for translated books. Had I given in to my cynicism and stayed away from translated works, I wouldn’t have discovered many writers that I have come to adore. Orhan Pamuk, Isabel Allende, and Haruki Murakami are on the top of my list of authors whose English translations have charmed me. At times, though, I wish I could read the original works.

Likewise, I love reading Urdu poetry in translation. I first read the English version and then struggle with Urdu. There is something extremely romantic and calming about the way Urdu rolls off your tongue. Try it! Faiz Ahmed Faiz and Mirza Ghalib are my constant favorites.

I picked up Saadat Hasan Manto’s ‘Bombay Stories’ because I wanted to read more Urdu writers and not just stick to the occasional poetry and I couldn’t have had a better start. Translated from Urdu by Matt Reeck and Aftab Ahmad, you can see, hear, and feel the stories—through characters Manto feels most drawn to: immigrants, prostitutes, gangsters, those struggling to survive, the hopeful ones, and the hardened souls.

Born in 1912, Manto moved to Bombay from Amritsar in 1936 and made it his home. He had actually written a wistful declaration, ‘Main chalta-phirta Bambai hoon’ (I am a walking, talking Bombay) that expresses how the city was a big part of his identity. However, Bombay isn’t romanticized in Manto’s stories. As a reader you get a sense of the place and feel like you know its inhabitants, even if you have never set foot in the city.

Manto is best known for stories about the partition of the subcontinent after India’s independence in 1947. Most of the 14 stories in Bombay Stories were written after he moved to Pakistan in 1948. Thus, a longing for the city he had just left is clearly evident.

The most interesting character in the book is Manto himself who appears in several stories. He sets up meetings for his actor friends, tries to care for the women they hurt, and reflects on what men and women are capable of doing to each other. Manto, who died in 1955 at 42 after a long battle with alcoholism, has in a way been immortalized by and in his stories.

Bombay Stories feels as relevant today as it was when it was written over 70 years ago, though Manto did occasionally get tried for obscenity. He is believed to have said that if people find his stories dirty, it’s because the society they live in is so. Manto’s stories capture society from its least flattering angles and in that way forces us to look at what we would have otherwise never paid much attention to. And, best of all, Bombay—or Mumbai, as you would call it today—comes alive right before your eyes.