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The Collected Short Stories of Khushwant Singh
Book by Singh, Khushwant
232 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1989
34 people are currently reading
801 people want to read
About the author
Khushwant Singh
298 books1,432 followersKhushwant Singh, (Punjabi: ਖ਼ੁਸ਼ਵੰਤ ਸਿੰਘ, Hindi: खुशवंत सिंह) born on 2 February 1915 in Hadali, Undivided India, (now a part of Pakistan), was a prominent Indian novelist and journalist. Singh's weekly column, "With Malice towards One and All", carried by several Indian newspapers, was among the most widely-read columns in the country.
An important post-colonial novelist writing in English, Singh is best known for his trenchant secularism, his humor, and an abiding love of poetry. His comparisons of social and behavioral characteristics of Westerners and Indians are laced with acid wit.
An important post-colonial novelist writing in English, Singh is best known for his trenchant secularism, his humor, and an abiding love of poetry. His comparisons of social and behavioral characteristics of Westerners and Indians are laced with acid wit.
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Displaying 1 - 13 of 13 reviews
February 7, 2015
When I issued this book from the library it was from a vague remembrance of a short story of the author I had read in school.I haven't read the more famous "Train to Pakistan" by Khushwant Singh and plunged into this one without any expectations...
Well what I read was a pleasant surprise! The author's prose is sharp,witty and tends to betray a delicious sense of irony in almost every story.The stories are a scathing dissection of the social,economic,class,caste and religious barriers that divide the Indians,all the time exposing the hypocrisies in them.My favourites were "Posthumous","The portrait of a lady","Kusum","The memsahib of mandla","Black Jasmine","The bottom pincher,"Paradise"&"Wanted:a son"..
I would advise the readers to savour every moment of this volume as this one deserves it!
Well what I read was a pleasant surprise! The author's prose is sharp,witty and tends to betray a delicious sense of irony in almost every story.The stories are a scathing dissection of the social,economic,class,caste and religious barriers that divide the Indians,all the time exposing the hypocrisies in them.My favourites were "Posthumous","The portrait of a lady","Kusum","The memsahib of mandla","Black Jasmine","The bottom pincher,"Paradise"&"Wanted:a son"..
I would advise the readers to savour every moment of this volume as this one deserves it!
May 19, 2009
Collected Short Stories makes good reading overall. Some stories are brilliant. One of my faves is the Bottom Pincher. KS is a dirty old man with a devil may care attitude and a wicked sense of humour to match.
KS on his enemies-I think I will have wax images of my pet hates and vent my spleen on them by sticking pins in their effigies. May the fleas of a thousand camels infest their armpits!
Ks on Indians and sex-Indians have sex more often in their brains and not where it should be....
KS on his enemies-I think I will have wax images of my pet hates and vent my spleen on them by sticking pins in their effigies. May the fleas of a thousand camels infest their armpits!
Ks on Indians and sex-Indians have sex more often in their brains and not where it should be....
December 25, 2011
Must read stories in it are by, in my opinion, by Kabir Bedi and Ruskin Bond. They stood out amongst others by their simplicity of language. Having said that, does not mean that the rest are any less powerful.
September 25, 2019
A good bunch of stories from Khushwant Singh. The stories stand out simply because of the time and place they are set in, which are far away from today. They are set in the times of the British Raj, in pastoral fields of Punjab, in jungles, in urban centres and feature colourful characters such as bottom-pinchers, religious preachers, conscientious gentlemen and demure women. I suppose one is at home writing on subjects he has seen and can imagine to a fair degree of detail. For example, I can see myself writing short stories on the effects of technology, the intolerance in the air, homophobia etc.
Singh is a good storyteller and writer describing the happenings with ease with more than the odd sophisticated word, sending you scurrying to the dictionary. In this regard, he is akin to R. K. Narayanan. He is also able to draw upon and comment on certain universal behaviours be it the difficulty in getting rid of hate leading to trivial conflicts or communal riots, or the eccentricities that all individuals have. Not all the stories are as interesting and it is not hard to guess where some of the stories or heading towards. Singh being Singh, there are also frequent vibrant descriptions of women.
Singh is a good storyteller and writer describing the happenings with ease with more than the odd sophisticated word, sending you scurrying to the dictionary. In this regard, he is akin to R. K. Narayanan. He is also able to draw upon and comment on certain universal behaviours be it the difficulty in getting rid of hate leading to trivial conflicts or communal riots, or the eccentricities that all individuals have. Not all the stories are as interesting and it is not hard to guess where some of the stories or heading towards. Singh being Singh, there are also frequent vibrant descriptions of women.
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September 25, 2019A good bunch of stories from Khushwant Singh. The stories stand out simply because of the time and place they are set in, which are far away from today. They are set in the times of the British Raj, in pastoral fields of Punjab, in jungles, in urban centres and feature colourful characters such as bottom-pinchers, religious preachers, conscientious gentlemen and demure women. I suppose one is at home writing on subjects he has seen and can imagine to a fair degree of detail. For example, I can see myself writing short stories on the effects of technology, the intolerance in the air, homophobia etc.
Singh is a good storyteller and writer describing the happenings with ease with more than the odd sophisticated word, sending you scurrying to the dictionary. In this regard, he is akin to R. K. Narayanan. He is also able to draw upon and comment on certain universal behaviours be it the difficulty in getting rid of hate leading to trivial conflicts or communal riots, or the eccentricities that all individuals have. Not all the stories are as interesting and it is not hard to guess where some of the stories or heading towards. Singh being Singh, there are also frequent vibrant descriptions of women.
Singh is a good storyteller and writer describing the happenings with ease with more than the odd sophisticated word, sending you scurrying to the dictionary. In this regard, he is akin to R. K. Narayanan. He is also able to draw upon and comment on certain universal behaviours be it the difficulty in getting rid of hate leading to trivial conflicts or communal riots, or the eccentricities that all individuals have. Not all the stories are as interesting and it is not hard to guess where some of the stories or heading towards. Singh being Singh, there are also frequent vibrant descriptions of women.
June 12, 2018
this was a very exciting book
July 9, 2025
It was 2015, and the world around me was becoming heavier, louder, more digital, more divided — all at once. I craved a book that could cut through the noise without pretending the world wasn’t messy.
That’s when I met The Collected Short Stories of Khushwant Singh. Not stumbled upon, not “discovered,” but met — like you meet a particularly blunt uncle at a family gathering who smells of Old Spice, speaks his mind, and has no filter, but damn, if he doesn’t tell the truth.
Khushwant Singh didn’t just speak to me — he grabbed me by the collar, smirked, and said, “Come, let’s talk about the India you know and the India you’d rather not.”
What followed was a slow, layered reading over many months. I didn’t devour the stories — I lived with them. Some stayed on my desk for days. Others crept into my head on public buses. One or two followed me to bed.
And what a world Singh lays bare. In these 30-odd stories, he draws up an India that’s at once familiar and foreign: the mud-slicked lanes of a partition-torn Punjab; the dimly lit offices of pompous civil servants; the cold compartments of first-class railway cars where Westernized Indians sip brandy and speak in clipped accents; the overstuffed city buses where hands stray, and shame is passed around like spare change.
If I had to pick one story that has lived inside me since that first read, it would be The Mark of Vishnu. A simple tale on the surface — a schoolboy, a snake, a devout servant — but its undercurrents cut deep. The clash of reason and belief, the grotesque comedy of blind ritual, the dignity of the marginalized, and the fragility of truth. It’s a story I’ve returned to more times than I care to admit, each time peeling off another layer.
Then there’s Karma, a story so short, so snappy, that I initially mistook it for a joke. But read it twice — and it becomes a tragedy wrapped in satire. The man who performs his Westernization like a theatre act, only to be publicly undressed by his own delusions — it’s pure Singh: ironic, brutal, and utterly brilliant.
What’s remarkable about Singh’s fiction is how it never tries too hard to impress. He doesn’t dress up his sentences in velvet. His prose is lean, journalistic, and sharp — the kind that gives paper cuts if you’re not paying attention. He trusts you to get the joke, the pain, the politics. He doesn’t sermonize. He winks. And you, the reader, either laugh or flinch.
Of course, not every story lands. Some, like Wanted: A Wife or The Bottom-Pincher, edge dangerously close to parody, and not always in a flattering way. At times, Singh’s obsession with libido can feel like a tired reflex — the nudge-nudge of a writer who got too comfortable making readers blush. And yes, his female characters don’t always rise above types — seductress, servant, saint. But even in these moments, Singh is honest. He writes the India he saw — flawed, complex, lewd, spiritual, cruel, loving.
Years later, I still reach for this collection when I need a jolt — when I want to be reminded that literature needn’t always be lofty to be profound. Singh’s stories wear no masks. They spill their guts — caste, class, communal rage, repression, absurdity — all laid out in broad daylight. But they do so with humor and heart. And that’s what makes them linger.
The Riot, for instance, should be mandatory reading in any course on communal violence. Its restraint is its weapon. And The Portrait of a Lady, Singh’s tender homage to his grandmother, could soften even the most hard-boiled cynic. It’s a story that smells of old prayer books, ghee lamps, and fading memory.
There’s comfort in returning to this book — not because the stories are always pleasant, but because they’re true. Not factually, but emotionally. And emotional truth — raw, unfiltered, and fearless — is what Singh dealt in best.
Now, in 2025, a full decade since that first reading, The Collected Short Stories of Khushwant Singh remains on my shelf, within reach. Sometimes I pull it out just to reread a page. Other times, just to touch the cover and remember who I was when I first met these stories.
Books grow old. We grow older. But some stories?
They become part of your blood.
That’s when I met The Collected Short Stories of Khushwant Singh. Not stumbled upon, not “discovered,” but met — like you meet a particularly blunt uncle at a family gathering who smells of Old Spice, speaks his mind, and has no filter, but damn, if he doesn’t tell the truth.
Khushwant Singh didn’t just speak to me — he grabbed me by the collar, smirked, and said, “Come, let’s talk about the India you know and the India you’d rather not.”
What followed was a slow, layered reading over many months. I didn’t devour the stories — I lived with them. Some stayed on my desk for days. Others crept into my head on public buses. One or two followed me to bed.
And what a world Singh lays bare. In these 30-odd stories, he draws up an India that’s at once familiar and foreign: the mud-slicked lanes of a partition-torn Punjab; the dimly lit offices of pompous civil servants; the cold compartments of first-class railway cars where Westernized Indians sip brandy and speak in clipped accents; the overstuffed city buses where hands stray, and shame is passed around like spare change.
If I had to pick one story that has lived inside me since that first read, it would be The Mark of Vishnu. A simple tale on the surface — a schoolboy, a snake, a devout servant — but its undercurrents cut deep. The clash of reason and belief, the grotesque comedy of blind ritual, the dignity of the marginalized, and the fragility of truth. It’s a story I’ve returned to more times than I care to admit, each time peeling off another layer.
Then there’s Karma, a story so short, so snappy, that I initially mistook it for a joke. But read it twice — and it becomes a tragedy wrapped in satire. The man who performs his Westernization like a theatre act, only to be publicly undressed by his own delusions — it’s pure Singh: ironic, brutal, and utterly brilliant.
What’s remarkable about Singh’s fiction is how it never tries too hard to impress. He doesn’t dress up his sentences in velvet. His prose is lean, journalistic, and sharp — the kind that gives paper cuts if you’re not paying attention. He trusts you to get the joke, the pain, the politics. He doesn’t sermonize. He winks. And you, the reader, either laugh or flinch.
Of course, not every story lands. Some, like Wanted: A Wife or The Bottom-Pincher, edge dangerously close to parody, and not always in a flattering way. At times, Singh’s obsession with libido can feel like a tired reflex — the nudge-nudge of a writer who got too comfortable making readers blush. And yes, his female characters don’t always rise above types — seductress, servant, saint. But even in these moments, Singh is honest. He writes the India he saw — flawed, complex, lewd, spiritual, cruel, loving.
Years later, I still reach for this collection when I need a jolt — when I want to be reminded that literature needn’t always be lofty to be profound. Singh’s stories wear no masks. They spill their guts — caste, class, communal rage, repression, absurdity — all laid out in broad daylight. But they do so with humor and heart. And that’s what makes them linger.
The Riot, for instance, should be mandatory reading in any course on communal violence. Its restraint is its weapon. And The Portrait of a Lady, Singh’s tender homage to his grandmother, could soften even the most hard-boiled cynic. It’s a story that smells of old prayer books, ghee lamps, and fading memory.
There’s comfort in returning to this book — not because the stories are always pleasant, but because they’re true. Not factually, but emotionally. And emotional truth — raw, unfiltered, and fearless — is what Singh dealt in best.
Now, in 2025, a full decade since that first reading, The Collected Short Stories of Khushwant Singh remains on my shelf, within reach. Sometimes I pull it out just to reread a page. Other times, just to touch the cover and remember who I was when I first met these stories.
Books grow old. We grow older. But some stories?
They become part of your blood.
February 13, 2025
Short naughty fictional tales of Punjab and its peoples. Some stories are so vividly told that they bring the picture of the bygone era before your eyes as you read every word so aptly used.
🙈 With a colorful vocabulary and superb command over the storytelling, Khushwant Singhji writes stories around characters and mannerisms he had observed in real life. And that adds the true flavors to his writing. His keen eye apparently captured behavioral idiosyncracies and his pen was weaving tales around it. To top it, the sense of humor that's rare to come by. He was most definitely our very own Benny Hill--for the lack of the right word to describe my affinity for this maestro!
💣 Not smut. Not sleazy but bold writing, delicately balanced to evoke the right imagery and yet not leave the reader with a funky aftertaste. Packed with emotions that you hardly find in short story collections nowadays. Although, the end of the stories leave a lot to our imagination.
🤪 The Bottom-pincher is one of the tongue-in-cheek tales I'll remember this book for. And as an odd treat The Memsahib of Mandla is for paranormal fiction lovers like me.
🙈 With a colorful vocabulary and superb command over the storytelling, Khushwant Singhji writes stories around characters and mannerisms he had observed in real life. And that adds the true flavors to his writing. His keen eye apparently captured behavioral idiosyncracies and his pen was weaving tales around it. To top it, the sense of humor that's rare to come by. He was most definitely our very own Benny Hill--for the lack of the right word to describe my affinity for this maestro!
💣 Not smut. Not sleazy but bold writing, delicately balanced to evoke the right imagery and yet not leave the reader with a funky aftertaste. Packed with emotions that you hardly find in short story collections nowadays. Although, the end of the stories leave a lot to our imagination.
🤪 The Bottom-pincher is one of the tongue-in-cheek tales I'll remember this book for. And as an odd treat The Memsahib of Mandla is for paranormal fiction lovers like me.
April 27, 2011
amazing collection of stories..very hilarious and entertaining..! Loved it..!
September 2, 2014
Short stories are not my cup of tea. Still tried to read this book, as I am a Khushwant Singh FAN.... But the book disappointed me.
April 13, 2017
Wonderful collection with stories as old as even 50 years. The vitriolic style of Khuswant Singh is at full display in this book which amuses, enriches and provides the necessary spice to keep flipping through this tome. Full of life, full of satire and liberally peppered with brazen and lascivious pages. Overall a major introduction to the works of the very unique Khuswant Singh.
April 25, 2017
4.5 stars. Sarcasm is top-notch.
Displaying 1 - 13 of 13 reviews